I fought the bitter cold at o'dark-thirty to enthusiastically torture myself in my crossfit class. I conquered another class, and came home (still in the dark). Longing to crawl back under my blankets, I made the proper hygienic choice and showered before doing so. Just before my head hit the pillow for my early morning nap (when you wake up at 4AM, you take morning naps), I noticed I had a voicemail. This could only mean one thing -- I am being summoned for work! Forget the nap, it's time to kick it into high gear and get ready for the day like a sub (I really wanted to write "boss" but I'm a sub...). "Ah! You know that light green scarf would go so great with this outfit," as I rummaged through my scarf drawer, I began a rather lengthy conversation with myself. I generally feel entitled to such conversations when I am up many hours before the sun, and yet to have the proper amount of coffee.
"Where is it?!" I began to panic as my super cute outfit began to fall apart.
"Mary, you got rid of it when you tried cutting down on your collection,"
"But why that one? It was a solid color, and was a light material -- perfect for Uganda,"
"Okay, I used the word 'collection' before out of respect for myself. But let's be real. No girl really needs thirty scarves!"
"That doesn't answer my question!"
"You kept your top nine scarves. Nine is reasonable. Clearly at the time, that scarf wasn't as important to you,"
"But my brother gave it to me,"
"Dude. He gave you most of them... He also has a problem..."
"Dude. He gave you most of them... He also has a problem..."
"This may be true... But my other green scarf just isn't gonna work with this outfit,"
"Then pick another outfit!" Which is exactly what I did. The only thing that remained the same was my jeans. All because I got rid of the scarf I wanted to wear. For not planning my outfit around my scarf, I took a bit of a dramatic turn. Did I mention I had only drank one cup of coffee at this point?
I love scarves! I wear them year round, and I think at one point I had forty, and if not quite that many, then it was close! My obsession started my senior year of high school, when I joined a gospel choir. When we performed, we wore solid black, and a colorful scarf. The next thing I know, scarves became my favorite accessory, and I had one for every occasion times five. They come from a number of different resources, but my brother became my biggest scarf supplier. Christmas. Birthdays. Whatever required a gift, he gets me a scarf... then gives me such a hard time for owning so many.
In August, I moved out of the house I lived in for a year into a temporary place before my move to Uganda. I took that opportunity to purge most of my belongings I knew I would not be saving or taking to Uganda. I tried desperately to get myself down to the bags I planned on taking, and I came very close to that goal. Now, I did this three years ago, and have yet to collect a grand sum of belongings, which made the process quick and rather painless. That is, until I decided I did not need over thirty scarves. I weeded out the ones I rarely wore, and found myself at twenty-eight. Progress. Twenty-eight scarves takes a lot of space when one tries to pack an entire life into two footlockers, that can only weigh fifty pounds, and a carry-on. The real pain began as I made the crucial decision of which scarves to keep and which I must give away. I dove into this massive project with no agenda and no guidelines (you know, "anything ranking below a five toss"). My room became a raging sea of scarves, as I shuffled them back and forth, not sure what to do with any of them. My heart gave valid reasons to keep every scarf, but my head continued to put my heart straight, reminding her of the ultimate goal: bringing the gospel to a people in such desperate need of grace. After several hours of battle, I dwindled my collection down to nine scarves. Immediately, I took the discarded scarves to the local thrift shop before I could change my mind. I knew I would find a moment of regret, when I realized I missed one of my beloved scarves, just as it happened yesterday.
Many missionaries share struggles as they pack up their lives. I can't speak for everyone, but I continually find myself flopping back and forth from laughing at what I chose to struggle giving up, and being mortified how difficult it was to give up something so minuscule. Yet here I find myself, desperately missing a green scarf.
I find beauty behind this "struggle". For a moment, I find it hard to give up something that was so precious to me. Yet how much more the joys of being a witness to the gospel -- to watch individuals come to a relationship with Christ. Those momentary struggles will one day seem so small, as I look back on what God has brought me through. I even laugh at myself now, thinking how difficult it was compared to the glory of God and all He does for me.
I love scarves! I wear them year round, and I think at one point I had forty, and if not quite that many, then it was close! My obsession started my senior year of high school, when I joined a gospel choir. When we performed, we wore solid black, and a colorful scarf. The next thing I know, scarves became my favorite accessory, and I had one for every occasion times five. They come from a number of different resources, but my brother became my biggest scarf supplier. Christmas. Birthdays. Whatever required a gift, he gets me a scarf... then gives me such a hard time for owning so many.
In August, I moved out of the house I lived in for a year into a temporary place before my move to Uganda. I took that opportunity to purge most of my belongings I knew I would not be saving or taking to Uganda. I tried desperately to get myself down to the bags I planned on taking, and I came very close to that goal. Now, I did this three years ago, and have yet to collect a grand sum of belongings, which made the process quick and rather painless. That is, until I decided I did not need over thirty scarves. I weeded out the ones I rarely wore, and found myself at twenty-eight. Progress. Twenty-eight scarves takes a lot of space when one tries to pack an entire life into two footlockers, that can only weigh fifty pounds, and a carry-on. The real pain began as I made the crucial decision of which scarves to keep and which I must give away. I dove into this massive project with no agenda and no guidelines (you know, "anything ranking below a five toss"). My room became a raging sea of scarves, as I shuffled them back and forth, not sure what to do with any of them. My heart gave valid reasons to keep every scarf, but my head continued to put my heart straight, reminding her of the ultimate goal: bringing the gospel to a people in such desperate need of grace. After several hours of battle, I dwindled my collection down to nine scarves. Immediately, I took the discarded scarves to the local thrift shop before I could change my mind. I knew I would find a moment of regret, when I realized I missed one of my beloved scarves, just as it happened yesterday.
Many missionaries share struggles as they pack up their lives. I can't speak for everyone, but I continually find myself flopping back and forth from laughing at what I chose to struggle giving up, and being mortified how difficult it was to give up something so minuscule. Yet here I find myself, desperately missing a green scarf.
I find beauty behind this "struggle". For a moment, I find it hard to give up something that was so precious to me. Yet how much more the joys of being a witness to the gospel -- to watch individuals come to a relationship with Christ. Those momentary struggles will one day seem so small, as I look back on what God has brought me through. I even laugh at myself now, thinking how difficult it was compared to the glory of God and all He does for me.
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