But now, I am totally feeling the same way. Every time I share a post and I read comments (on facebook or here) I have similar responses. If someone writes, "oh, that sounds so great...so much fun...I would love to be doing that!" or anything positive, I want to write back "ARE YOU CRAZY! THIS IS THE HARDEST JOB IN THE WORLD AND NOTHING ABOUT IT IS FUN, AND EVERYDAY I WANT TO CRY!"
But then, if someone shows me pity, with comments such as, "Oh, so sorry...I can't believe you are doing this" then I want to write back, "NO, SERIOUSLY...DO NOT FEEL SORRY FOR ME! I HAVE THIS BEST JOB IN THE WORLD! IT IS SO EXCITING AND FUN, AND EVERYDAY I PRAISE THE LORD FOR IT."
So, basically...yes...I am crazy. I have turned into that girl. But don't be afraid to leave comments. I love comments, and really you can't lose with whatever angle you choose to go with.
I am not sure which response is truly accurate. I think it all depends on the day, but I honestly believe that this job entails a little of both. Like right now, I am super excited to FINALLY be getting into the tribe in six days, but the process of getting there is very hectic and stressful and I really do just want to cry at the end of everyday.
You see in order to move our stuff into the tribe we have a limited number of flights that can carry it all. And those flights are in a small plane that can only carry so much weight. And then in a helicopter that can only carry/sling so much weight.
|Helicopter "slinging" wood for our coworker's house.|
But before we can get all our stuff in, we have to get our actual house in. By that I mean all the materials to build our house. And for all you MTC and NTBI folks, your batteries alone will take up and entire flight and a half. That's right. JUST THE BATTERIES, not the solar panels, and wires, and plumbing, and plywood, and tin roofing, and nails, and screws, and stove, and washer, and fridge and freezer, and really do I need to go on any further? I mean I can, but this would get pretty monotonous after a while, right? Oh yeah, and I have to fly in food supplies for five months as well. Do you see why I want to cry every night these days?
Right now, we are trying to figure out what we are going to sacrifice and live without for five months. While that list is actually pretty long, I don't really want to do to you what I did in the previous paragraph, so I will just tell you that the big things we have chosen to leave here are our furniture (yeah, no furniture for five months will be fun) and our Christmas tree. I know that sounds dumb, but I am a little sad that we won't have a Christmas tree in our house this year. There is always the possibility of chopping down something in the jungle, but please remember that this is the rainforest and the trees are huge and full of scary and disgusting living creatures. Who knows, maybe I will just draw a tree on my wall with a sharpie. We can't paint right away anyway, so I might as well...plus I will not be the first one to do it, I can tell you that (cough cough, Courtney Shontere).
I know I will feel better once we just get in there, but then there is the realization that I will basically be living in a shell of a house for a year (at least). Our goal for the work team is to get the roof, floor and walls up, and to get our plumbing and electrical going. There probably won't be any inside walls (except for the bathroom) and no kitchen cabinets. Our entire house will be wrapped in tarp like this...
And honestly, if all that gets done I will be one happy, Mama. My dear, sweet, and wonderful 3N1 will be working on the house every Saturday to try to finish it, because during the week he will be trying to get in a minimum of 40 hours of language study so that we can learn language a.s.a.p. in order to disciple believers and go with them to reach their neighboring villages. Sigh.
So, do I still seem crazy? I mean, honestly there are things to envy. And there are things to pity. But overall, I still think this is the best job in the world and there is nothing else on this earth that I would rather be doing.