It’s about that time again. Time for a little deactivation date with my Facebook account.
I’d be lying if I said my intentions were entirely noble. I would love to be able to say that I’m deleting my Facebook so that:
-I can spend more time with God.
-I can better love other people.
Although these usually play a role in my thought process, the truth of the matter is:
Social media feeds my hate plant of discontent.
There’s a process to getting to where I am today. A journey, I should say. This is what it was like for me.
Once upon a time, I was part of a wide circle of friends. I had deep relationships. I understood the culture I lived in–mostly. I thrived and I felt independent and secure.
But soon after nestling into my seat on a plane bound for Seoul, I became rid of all earthly things to which I could be identified–college student, massage-therapist, nanny, US resident, driver. I was then transplanted in a new environment, which spoke a language I didn’t know, and given a new set of things with which to identify myself, effective immediately–missionary volunteer, teacher, expatriate.
Once past the honeymoon season of transplantation, which some people skip entirely, you typically go straight into shock season. This usually includes late night conversations, which you might still be jet-lagged for, it all depends on how long your honeymoon stage lasted. These conversations are typically one-sided and go something like this,
“What the *bleep* am I doing here? I suck at ____ (pick your poison). God, You clearly made a mistake.”
After you’re finished telling God how to do His job, albeit you may still have doubts, you roll up your sleeves and decide you’re going to make the best of it; so you get to work. You build relationships, you start to learn language, and most importantly–you learn how to laugh at your mistakes.
Then, you reach the coveted “mountain top” stage of transplantation. You get high – figuratively, of course. It’s exhilarating. This is what you were destined for. Your ministry is booming. People are getting healed, there’s a mad dash of people running to pools of water, wanting to take the plunge…life is going darn-tootin’ well.
The mountain-top days are short-lived when the flaming arrows of doom burn down the sails on your ship, and you, my friend, are stuck in the middle of the ocean. It’s stinking hot and you are not going anywhere anytime soon. Finally, the sun begins to set and you sense relief coming, when out of the blue, a storm breaks. All the while, you’re trying to sew new sails and not sink your ship.
Your ministry might teeter back and forth between the ‘mountain days’ and the ‘storm from hell – boat’s about to sink’ stage, until you finally land in the plateau stage. Life has calmed down considerably, enough to the point of maybe feeling slightly mundane. ‘Lull Land’ is where discontentment really takes root. At least for me.
All of a sudden, life isn’t exotic enough – when compared with others. You question if it was all worth it. Friends from “home” seem to have moved on without you. You don’t feel needed like you once thought and you now have no clue what anyone is talking about pretty much on a daily basis. I thought Duck Dynasty was something like DuckTales and I was stoked about that possibility – until someone finally let me in on what it was. Disappointment on disappointment! I haven’t heard of most of the movies people are seeing in cinema and I still have no idea what the heck the fox says, and you know what? I don’t really care.
So I am deleting Facebook. Again. And I will probably keep deleting it every few months as long as it continues to be a source of pain, stress, or as long as it is something I attempt to find security in. It’s not that I don’t love or miss people. I surely do. It’s hard for me to be here when I’m constantly reminded of a former life that isn’t waiting for me.
You should go love on a missionary today. More than likely, they aren’t in a ‘mountain-top’ season right now and holidays in general are pretty hard on those living overseas!