I often find myself wishing that life here was tougher. I came expecting a situation that would push me beyond my limits and drive me closer to God, yet I landed in the American pavilion of the African Epcot Center. I have to escape the compound to even see Africa. My living conditions are more illustrious than I've ever had on my own: electricity, hot running water, fast internet, supermarkets, cars, cell phones . . . is this my mission field??
I wish I were required to work harder; I'd have less time to think and ponder and mull. I really do have time on my hands, but I always seem to squander it. My first appointment daily is at 8:30 a.m. Many nights I work until 10 p.m., but I still feel as though I've been busier in school than I am here. I worry that when I come home, I'll have stories of safaris and souvenirs, but nothing to show of service.
I wish I had real, tangible things to complain about, like lack of food or water or electricity or plumbing or cooking or, well, anything. Instead, I just get grumpy, and I can't blame it on anything but me.
I've been placed here for a reason. God didn't plan for me to rough it. He planned a place that was like home so that I would learn to lean on Him in familiar situations, not just tough ones. This is training for life.