A Day (or a few) in a Missionary Kid’s Life
The other day I asked my dad, “So what do you think about me getting married?”
“What?”
“Well this text message, right here, it says ‘Two are better than one because they have a good reward for their labour. (ecclesiasts4:9-10. Gen. 2:18-25. Gen 39:30) Please i love you be my wife the rest of my life. Please text back. Thank you.’ and the next message says, ‘It’s Gen. 29:20 Not 30.’”
“Did Paul send that to you?” Paul is one of my dad’s Bible College students. He actually calls himself a Pastor or Evangelist depending on his mood, but we all refuse to use the title.
“Yes,” I lowered my head and bit my lip. Dad was on the verge of explosion.
“I’m gonna call him right now! What’s his number?”
I produced the number for my enraged – and rightfully so – father. I honestly had hoped that he would flip out at least a little bit because this guy needed a serious talking to.
“Are you sick, my friend? Are you having malaria?” I could hear Dad’s voice bellowing throughout the house. I could not keep from laughing.
A few more harsh words and an “I-don’t-want-to-ever-see-you-speak-to-her-again” and the telephone call was over. But this guy was far from gone.
As usual, he showed up at Bible College that weekend.
On Saturday, he was given permission to speak to me so that he could apologize. Sadly, he apologized like a girl, profusely as well.
I told him “Fine, I forgive you. It’s in the past. But I have no respect for you.” I did not tell him that he had not had any respect to lose in the first place.
Let me elaborate, like I said earlier, this guy is a self-proclaimed weirdo – hem, sorry, did I say that? – I meant pastor. The legalistic, Satan obsessed, tongue-speaking, falling down, screaming type. Great! Just my kind of guy. Honestly, I think the time he apologize and I said that I told I forgave him, was the longest conversation we had ever had. I don’t know where he got the idea that I would want to marry him – or that he would even want to marry me.
“Maybe it’s because I resemble a very large visa to the United States,” I told a friend.
Because Paul only attends our Bible College and not our church, I didn’t see him for a week. But over the course of that week he ‘flashed’ (in the cell phone lingo of my country, that means that you call somebody, let it ring once, and then hang up because you don’t have enough credit to actually talk to them) me a few times.
That Sunday I told him, “Listen, Paul, you remember that whole no respect thing? And how you said you wanted to earn it back? Well to do that, you’re gonna have to not talk to me. Just wait for me to talk to you, ok?”
“Ok. Sorry,” he said.
Sure. Sorry. Whatever that meant in his vocabulary, it certainly meant something different in mine.
He called me the next Saturday. I picked up – reluctantly and with much disgust.
“Hello.” There was no response. I said it again, “Hello.” Still no response. Eventually, I just hung up. Then I sent him a text message: “And ur reason 4 callin me and not sayin anything?”
He responded a few hours later: “My reason 4 calling you can not be explain, i don’t want to say or do anything to make you unhappy because, i love you so much.”
What part of back off didn’t this guy understand?
When I showed his text to my dad we decided that it was time for me to give him a stern talk; each of the pastors had already tried and it does not seem like he listened.
“I’m not a mean person. I have a hard time yelling at people, Grace,” I told my friend.
“I think you should slap him and then just make sure we’re around to back you up in case he tries anything,” suggested an anonymous guy friend.
“I’ll just practice on you, Grace,” I told her.
So that day at the beach, I yelled at Grace. Then throughout the rest of the afternoon and evening, I tried to get myself into a ‘mean mood,’ a mindset of being stern and maybe a little bit scary. And at Bible College class that night, I spewed my carefully collected venom.
Among a myriad of other things I told him, “You don’t love me. You can’t love me because you don’t know me…This isn’t my father speaking, this isn’t Pastor Daniel speaking, this is me telling you I’m not interested! And when a girl tells you this as sternly and strongly as I am , you go away.”
He said, “Ok.”
I walked away, thankful that I had been able to be mean enough, and thankful that I had something to laugh about.
This is my everyday life - I am missionary kid. We face interesting situations almost everyday – not always ones involving astronomical requests in a text message – but we do face them everyday nonetheless. Some days they are funny, some days annoying, some days painful, and others – a complete and total blessing from God that remind us why we are here on mission field.