The New Normal

Drip...

Drip...

Drip...

I sat in our crudely built Hewa church building one Sunday morning going nuts because I couldn't figure out what was leaking or where it was leaking from. It wasn't currently raining, though it was the RAIN FOREST so it had probably rained at least 5 five minutes ago. It had to be coming from the roof, right? I mean I could see holes from the old tin that had been "repurposed" as the church roof. But I could only see sunlight streaming through those holes, no leaking or dripping.Then...

S P L A S H

The drip had now become a splash on my leg. I made the rookie mistake of looking down to see what exactly had splashed on my leg when the next

S P L A S H

landed on my face. I wiped my cheek with my hand and turned towards the direction of the splash and quickly discovered the source of the leak. It was definitely a leak. Just not a WATER leak.

You see we sit very close to each other and very close to the dirt floor in Hewa church and my very close neighbor just happened to be a new mother.

A new mother whose baby was asleep.

A new mother whose baby was asleep, but whose body said it was actually time for baby to eat.

A new mother in a remote jungle setting who has never seen or heard of nursing pads.

So the leak that had been dripping and splashing on me for the last 30 minutes was her breast milk dripping through her shirt, making a small puddle on her skirt, then slowly dripping through the skirt onto the ground beneath her and next to me.

"Oh, so that's what that dripping is, " was my response, and having discovered the source of the leak went on listening to the sermon without another thought.

I think I officially became a missionary that day. I didn't get freaked out or grossed out. I didn't go home and wash my face or leg. It wasn't a big deal to me. I was used to all manner of bodily fluids ending up on me at church, and of all the bodily fluid possibilities in that small building, breast milk was definitely one of the better options.

This was my new normal.

It just sort of happened. Gradually. Each day the strange became a little more familiar, the new became a little more customary, and the gross became a little less...well...gross.

Sure there are some things that you absolutely have to work at to fit in to a totally new culture and people group, but some things just come by living day by day alongside people as their normal practices and activities just rub off on you or splash off onto you as in this case.

But if you'd have asked me before we moved to Papua New Guinea, if I would have just been cool with some lady's breast milk splattering on my leg and face then I'm sure I would have told you, "No! Ew! Gross!" I never would have imagined that this would become part of the my new normal in tribal life, yet there I was Christened into a new life of community and  extreme poverty and bodily fluids.

None of these pictures are of the day or mother in the story. They are just here to show you how close we sit and to help you picture how this incident may have occurred.

I am yet again stepping into a new and strange phase of life. A phase that if you'd have asked me 15 years ago if I'd ever be entering I would have told you, "No! Ew! Gross!"I never would have imagined my life NOT on the mission field or at least not serving in some way Stateside. It was never part of the plan. I was this one person who would only, could only do this one thing.

The end of this month will be the end of our time with Ethnos360 (New Tribes Mission). And I feel like I'm hanging on the edge of cliff holding onto a rope where all but one strand has frayed and broken. I know I need to let go. I know that "cliff" is really just a short hop down, but it doesn't FEEL that way.

It feels strange and wrong. It feels like grief.

I feel guilty even calling it "grief" when I have watched friends and loved ones go through horrific tragedies and true GRIEF, but I just don't know what else to call it.

It's still a loss. Loss of a life style and dream and all the time, effort, energy, and money that we (and most of you) have poured into for the last 15 years.

It's still starting over...

At almost 40  

And it is way scarier than going ever was.

It's still me crying almost everyday even when I really don't know what I'm crying about. It's like my body allocated a certain amount of tears for PNG and it WILL spend them no matter what. No matter how inappropriate the time and place. (Sorry to the Barista in the Starbucks drive-thru. The line was long and when I ordered my coffee I was fine, but by the time I pulled up, the tears were flowing and there was nothing I could do to stop them). Apparently this not feeling normal when repatriating IS actually normal. So normal that they even have a phrase for it- Reverse Culture Shock. Only this is harder because people don't expect you to have culture shock. YOU GREW UP IN THIS CULTURE FOR GOODNESS SAKE! But there are a lot things that I still don't know how to do as an American. I've never been a mom to teenagers in America. I've only had very little practice with my kids in school in America and it was very weird and intimidating and we just sort of got through it rather than really engaged in school culture and community.

It also doesn't help that the whole world is upside down right now, and everyone is searching for their new normal.

I will say, though, that the scripture, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted" (Psalm 34:18) has been so true during this phase. Yes, I am brokenhearted, and while he is not taking the hurt away, He has been so faithful to stay close, to allow me to feel His presence, and to bless me with special things that I certainly don't deserve (like this dog pictured below that I swear the Lord designed and created exactly for me).  He has given me a loving and understanding husband and He is loving my kids and helping them with their losses as well.

Please resist trying to count my chins in this picture

When I began to realize that this was happening I started reading all kinds of books about suffering, the loss of dreams, and life not turning out the way we hoped or planned. They were all very helpful. The most helpful was Shattered Dreams by Larry Crabb if you're looking for something in the sad, lonely, depressed genre. (But seriously very good book with sound Godly advice).

Anyway even with all that I know the Lord just kept reminding me of what Elisabeth Elliot wrote after she lost her husband on the mission field. "Just do the next thing." The Lord keeps putting those "next things" in my path and I just have to do them. He put a small Christian school where I could teach and the girls could attend in our my path, so I submitted my resume. I got a job and the girls are excited to not have to home school (I'm not taking it personally or anything) and we feel like it is a great Christian environment that will help us all transition a little easier.

The Lord also put a house in our path that belonged to John Michael's grandparents. His family very generously made it affordable to us, so we now have a roof over our heads. It is an older house that needs some updating, but maybe the fact that it doesn't have central air and heat or a dishwasher is the Lord's way of keeping me from going soft in America. *chuckle chuckle*

Our house

John Michael is still looking for a permanent job, but right now he is working for a friend in construction and is enjoying working with his hands. We are praying that he will find something soon that will provide our family with insurance, since you know the main reason we are home is to try to get my health under control, and it is kinda hard to see doctors without insurance. *nervous chuckle*

So as I take the next steps on this path that the Lord lays out, hopefully things will start to feel more normal and maybe even in a year or two I'll be in a restaurant or public place and some stranger's breast milk will splash on me and maybe I will be so comfortable in my new American life that I will freak out, gag, immediately rush home to shower, and burn all the clothes I was wearing.

One can only hope.

Update Letter

**I realize I haven't posted in a really long time and there is a lot to catch up on. To be fair I did warn you that once I started teaching I would probably never blog again. I'm still not really "blogging" because I am just going to post our most recent update letter here. I'm not in a place to emotionally or mentally where I can write out all my uncensored thoughts and feelings about all that is happening like I normally do here, because honestly those thoughts and feelings seems to change by the hour. So anyway, I'll just put this here for informational purposes only..

Many of you have followed the intense journey we have been on over the last month through email and Facebook, so you know that the last 30 plus days have been a whirlwind of events and emotions that in some ways seem indescribable. Somehow, I am going to try to describe them here, and share some news about some big changes happening for our family and the Hewa ministry.

As most of you know, I (Jessi) have been dealing with some significant health issues over the last few years that have had us traveling back and forth from PNG, Australia, to the U.S. to try to find answers and relief. We spent a year in the U.S. in 2018 to try to find solutions to the various things going on with my health. It was a difficult year for us as most of those “solutions” could not happen as long as we lived overseas. We had a difficult decision to make then: do we stay and treat my conditions or do we go back to PNG until I can no longer function?

After a lot of seeking the Lord’s direction in prayer and weighing all of our options, we felt like we needed to go back to PNG to try to finish the task we started with the Hewa ministry. We wanted to see a mature church planted among the Hewa people, and we were very close to that conclusion as elders and deacons had just been appointed in the church. We knew, however, that those elders and deacons needed more teaching, guidance, and discipleship before they were left on their own. We also knew that nothing I had was life threatening, and could wait another year or two for treatment.

We spent the year on our mission’s largest center so we could be close the medical clinic and doctors for when I had flare-ups. John Michael continued lesson writing and discipleship with the people, and I was able to teach fourth and fifth grade at the mission school. We spent the entire year in prayer about our future in PNG, weighing what was going on with my health with where the Hewa church had needs. We came to the conclusion in March that our time in PNG would end in June at the close of the school year, and when John Michael finished writing lessons for the Hewa church on the book of James. The elders were doing a great job, and our co-workers also decided to move out of the tribe permanently to let the church stand on its own two feet. This is the natural progression of a tribal church plant, to work ourselves out a job, and we knew that we had come to this point in the ministry.  We spent early March discussing our plans and decisions with our leadership teams in PNG and the U.S. and planned on sending an email to all of our supporters and churches in April to let you know that we would moving back to the U.S. in June.

However, just like most of you, our lives were turned upside down by the COVID-19 pandemic. All missionaries on the field with underlying health issues were asked to leave the field by our leadership team and doctors because borders were closing, and treating us would become more difficult and dangerous. Although, we were devastated to have to leave our home and country of service for the last nine years so soon and so quickly, we agreed with and respected their decision. We packed up and sold everything as quickly as possible, said the goodbyes that we could and desperately scrambled to get back to the U.S. before all the surrounding countries that we would have to pass through closed their borders. We purchased and then had to cancel a total of 4 different sets of tickets because borders and countries were closing very rapidly without notice. It was devastating to us that we would not be able to go back into the tribe to say goodbye to our Hewa brothers and sisters, but we are praying that the Lord will allow us to go back one day to see them and properly say goodbye. Our trip home was full of unknowns and rapid changes, and we even had a very close call in the country of Singapore where we were told that we would be turned over to immigration if we didn’t get on a flight before the country closed its borders in the next few hours. We were so thankful to the Lord for sending an airport employee who worked incredibly hard to make sure we got on a flight to the U.S. just minutes before the deadline to be out of the country.

We arrived home exhausted but thankful to be back in America even though our luggage was still in Singapore with no way of knowing when they would get it to us with all the cancelled flights and border closings.

However, after only two days of arrival, John Michael began showing symptoms of COVID-19 shortly followed by myself, his dad, and finally his mom. Through all the chaos of trying to get home, we had no time to find another place to quarantine, so we came to John Michael’s parents home where we got sick, and then infected them as well. Most of us had what are considered “mild” cases of the virus, but we still felt pretty bad for two weeks. His dad, however, did have to be hospitalized with pneumonia. Thankfully, he never had to be put on a ventilator, but stayed in a regular room on oxygen while he received treatment for a week.

Currently we have recovered from the virus and are continuing to shelter in place as much as we can just like the rest of the country and most of the world.

Right now, our plan is to continue to stay on with Ethnos360 (NTM) until the month of July, so that John Michael can finish the James lessons and email them to our area leadership who can put them into the hands of the Hewa church elders. We ask and pray that you would continue to support us as we make this transition so that these lessons can be finished for the Hewa church. Our family will still depend on your support to get this done. Please know that we are still passionate about missions, particularly reaching unreached people groups and Bible translation for those without God’s Word in their language. We are leaving with heavy hearts, but good standing with the mission and feel like the Lord will always have us involved in His work even if it is voluntary. Ethnos360 even offered us options to serve in ministries here in the U.S. but for now feel like Mississippi is where the Lord wants us. We have loved our time with Ethnos360 will continue to promote and encourage their ministries around the world.

While we are continually looking back at all the Lord has brought us through, and thanking Him for his protection and provision, I have to admit that we are questioning and wondering why He would bring us to this place of huge transition out of the life and ministry that we have be involved in for over a decade at what seems like the worst possible time. To have us completely start over, career-wise, while the world is shut down and most people are not hiring is frightening at times. I have frequently asked the Lord, “WHY?” over and over. But we have seen Him do incredible things in our lives in what the world would consider impossible situations, so we are clinging to the truth of His word and His track record of 100% faithfulness.

I apologize for the length of this update, but we wanted you all to have as much information as possible going forward with us. Again, we ask and pray that you would continue to support us through Ethnos360 through the month of July, so that John Michael can finish his work of Bible lesson writing for the Hewa church. After that time we will seek employment elsewhere, although right now we have no idea where that will be or what we will do. We desperately need your prayers for God to provide jobs for us in Mississippi where we plan to live for the foreseeable future.

There are no words to express how thankful we are as a family to all of you who have prayed and given financially to us so faithfully over the last nine years (13 for those of you who have been with us since our time in East Asia). We most certainly would not have been able to do any of this without your love, prayer, and support. We are praying for you all constantly during these turbulent times, trusting that our Creator who holds all things together (Colossians 1:17) will be faithful to us all through this current crisis.

With all our love,

The George Family

JM, Jessi, Lucy, Mattie, and Mia