The water is off today.
I thought I had prepared for the usual water cut by setting the timer on my washer. Sad fact: I had that washer for over two years before I realized it even had a timer. Still, I loaded it, set the timer, and went to bed feeling like I had outsmarted the water company.
In the morning, I expected the clothes to be ready to hang on the line. I also expected to see the usual puddle next to the washer because it leaks. But when I walked in, my heart sank. There was no puddle.
This could only mean one thing. The water is off today.
Bucket baths and dishwashers
We have always kept an extra barrel of water in case of water cuts. Honestly, a large water tank would be nice, but installing one is not in the budget right now. The barrel system works well for us as long as we keep it full. We have learned to manage the house for a day or two with about 50 gallons of water.
It is amazing how quickly you learn to conserve when you have to. I have learned to take a bath from a bucket and am, in fact, an expert at bucket bathing. I know how to use one bucket for a bath. I can even wash and condition my hair with that same bucket. That takes some serious conservation skills.
While waiting for the water to come back on, dishes pile up in the sink, and frustration levels rise. My family knows that dirty dishes are unacceptable to me. A dishwasher would feel like an amazing luxury. Whenever we travel to visit family and friends, I silently ache to press the start button on someone’s dishwasher.
It really is incredible how hot water and soap work together. In about an hour, clean and mostly dry dishes come out of that machine. I try to keep my thoughts about dishwashers to myself, but now that I have published them online, I guess it is all out in the open.
If I were blessed enough to have a dishwasher, it would sit silent, just like my washing machine, because the water is off today.
While the water is off
Life on this side of the world is inconvenient, uncomfortable, and unpredictable. Yet it is in this strange place that I fit. I am sure I seem like an enigma to friends and loved ones whose lives look very different from mine. Sometimes I even struggle to explain myself to myself.
Why do I enjoy this life so much? How can I enjoy it when the water is off today?
There have been times over the years when I have tried to fit in with my more “normal” counterparts in far-off lands, at least far-off to me. Whenever one of our children has gotten married, and we have traveled to attend the wedding, I have done my best to scrub up and look the part of the mother of the bride or groom. Still, everyone knows that no matter how nice a dress I wear or how good the salon makes my hair look for the day, my simple side lurks close to the surface.
The high heels will make my feet hurt, and I will kick them to the back of the closet after the wedding. They will never be worn again. Unlike everyone else, my lipstick, several years old, will not be freshened up, and I will not even think about checking my makeup. Embarrassingly, I do not know how to dance. So when it comes time for a special dance with a son or with my husband, I am sorely deficient.
Another sad fact: Once, when we had family pictures taken by a professional photographer, I forgot to have my nails done. At one point, the photographer had me stand behind Jamie, hugging his shoulders. This pose showed off my unmanicured, unpolished nails for all to see. There has never been a more authentic depiction of who I am before or since. Why try to repeat perfection?
The water is off and I don’t understand
I love visiting family and friends. If all goes according to plan, we are preparing for another transatlantic flight to see family for Christmas and the New Year. I am so looking forward to it! Now that we have grandchildren, we have even more reasons to visit and spoil them just a little. Having grandchildren is a little piece of heaven on earth. I wish I could enjoy them more.
Yet, it is inevitable that the ache to return home to Africa will draw me back to where I fit. This is when, separating from the children and grandchildren, I don’t understand myself the most. Going back to where the water is off, it is where I belong. Long ago, I learned to accept who God made me to be and the assignment He has given my husband and me. While I learned the lesson, that doesn’t mean that I enjoy every part of what I am called to do. There is a suffering that accompanies the calling. There’s a price to pay when you accept being who God makes you to be.
Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, all those who have left houses, brothers, sisters, mother, father, children, or farms for me and for the Good News will get more than they left. Here in this world they will have a hundred times more homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children, and fields. And with those things, they will also suffer for their belief. But in this age they will have life forever.”
Mark 10:29,30 NCV
Live without apology
As painful as it is to leave, I inevitably find myself climbing a plane, holding Jamie’s hand tightly, and flying back to where my work feels fulfilling. Back to where I make sense. It is in Africa that God taught me to live as He made me to be. I have slowly learned to let myself be who I am and to live without apology where God has placed me. Does it make sense? Will everyone embrace the call? Likely not. But surrendering to the call is all I know how to do.
We have lived this life for so long now that most of our family and friends understand that, for us, there is no turning back. One compelling reason we live this way is for the sake of our family, our children, and our grandchildren. It is for them that we hope the testimony of our lives will give them the courage to live authentically. To live in obedience to God’s call on their lives, whatever that may be.
What will we do when God answers this prayer?
If you are struggling, as you read this, to either let someone go and follow God’s will (not only overseas but anywhere) or to do God’s will yourself, consider the impact your reaction has on others. Many of us have prayed for laborers to be sent into God’s harvest. What will we do when God answers that prayer by sending us, or someone we love, far from home?
After these things the Lord appointed seventy others also, and sent them two by two before His face into every city and place where He Himself was about to go. Then He said to them, “The harvest truly is great, but the laborers are few; therefore pray the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest. Go your way; behold, I send you out as lambs among wolves.”
luke 10:1-3 NKJV
The work is hard enough. We will encounter the wolves among us as we go. As hard as it is, fighting the wolves in the field is easier than fighting the wolves at home. It is time to surrender. For me, part of that surrender brought me here, where the water is off today.
This was written during my time in Burundi, where water cuts and unpolished nails were the norm. I learned to lean into who I was created to be, and not who I thought I should be.
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