The Beautiful Ache

In my last post, I described how a married man came on to me. I was grateful the situation was mild and the resolve seemed quick. I can imagine all of that going down a lot worse. Anyway, the following day, Mr. E called me. I assumed it was about the kitchen shelves but he kept using a word that I did not associate with shelves. I eventually realized he was working on my insurance problem but needed some information from me to get prices. He texted me several times in regards to the insurance. I felt stressed by the interactions since I just wanted to keep a distance from him for a while. 

The situation had affected me emotionally. Just as men are affected by what they see, women are affected by emotional interactions. The scene kept replaying in my mind. It was so intimate and yet inappropriate. It was a twisted perversion of what I truly desire. 

Eventually the lies came. I want to be embraced and kissed like that, but not by him. The lies said that I won’t ever have that in my life. Great. I did not want to have to work through all of this yet again. I had been content for such a long time. That evening I listened to my friend share how she had met her husband. And another lie creeped in. She gets to do life with her best friend and you won’t ever have one for yourself. You won’t have a story to share one day, unless... (enter more lies.)

And so on it went. After a long day with locals and fighting through these lies, I went home and had a good cry trying to work through the jumble of emotions and lies. One of the things I kept feeling was that he had stolen something from me. You see, by choice, I haven’t dated anyone for over ten years. After some relationships with distant exes became more physical than I would have liked them to be, I decided that I needed to rethink my dating habits. I saw that the typical pattern for dating gave way to giving hearts over too quickly and giving way to physical temptations too easily. I decided that I would take a step back and really get to know a guy’s character from a distance and if through the avenue of friendship I saw things that would incline me to marry him, and he was interested, then we would date to see if we were right. When I stepped back, I began to observe that there were very few guys that I would actually consider dating. Among the guys I would consider dating, they were either unavailable or else uninterested in me. Thus, 11 years have passed and I have not been out with a guy again. Nor have I been embraced romantically by one. I guess you could say I have been fasting from these kind of embraces. 

So when this married man embraced me, it felt as if he took from me what I have been saving for the friend turned boyfriend turned husband. He stepped in and took what I did not give and what did not belong to him. He took from me what he should have come from his wife. And in his taking, he made me feel deeply the lack of embraces in my life. 

I happened to see this quote on Facebook that day, “God is the goodness better than any good we’ve ever seen or heard or tasted. He is the shelter safer than any government, laws, or armies.” -Shane and Shane 

This was such a timely reminder for me. It was balm for my aching heart. God is better than any man could ever be for me. I am already privy to this goodness that none on earth can outgive. 

It doesn’t mean that I don’t grieve the fact that I have been 11 years without a companion and have no idea when this “fasting” will end. John Piper said, “Occasionally weep deeply over the life you hoped would be. Grieve the losses. Then wash your face. Trust God. And embrace the life you have.”

I did this. I poured out my sorrows to the Father. I named the lack, but having it fulfilled is not so simple. This question of marriage, even asking for it, it’s a tricky one. Most likely, getting married would mean I’d have to move back to America. It would mean moving away from these people who I have grown to love. It’s hard to see how I could have both my life here and a husband. So when I get to these hard, grieving-the-lack-of-a-husband days, I am slow to ask for one. For to find a husband one would almost certainly break my heart in another way. After I grieved the losses, I came to the conclusion that if having a husband would mean abandoning this call and this people, I choose the lack. Jesus is worthy of the lack. 

As the week progressed there were more reminders of my lack. Will I ever have children of my own? Will I ever have a best friend to do life with? Will I be embraced in a beautiful way rather than a distorted one? 

One night, I sat in the dark praying for those near me whom I love. I was thinking of my married friends and how they have great love stories. It occurred to me that the Author of their stories is also the Author of mine. I know this Author can write great stories, great histories even. I know because I have read his best work multiple times and it is greater than any stories from a human mind. I imagined that if I were to read my story from start to end, I would love it. I wouldn’t want to put it down. I would cry through parts, laugh through parts and be in awe of the way he used every tear, pain, and laugh to shape me. Nothing would be wasted. I would see how I was wooed. Today if I could read the end, I wouldn’t change a thing. I would have no regrets.

Cultural Lessons the Hard Way

“You mean you have never, not once, had a woman on the side. I find that hard to believe. Most men I know have several women on the side.”

“I will marry one day fully expecting my husband will cheat on me.”

“It’s hard for a single person to find a place in this culture. Families don’t want to welcome them in. If it is a male single, the husband will eventually get jealous and think the single guy will try to steal his wife. If it is a single female, the wife will be convinced something is going on between the single and her husband. These things do happen quite often so jealousy is expected.”

I have heard these things about my culture. I also know their preconceived ideas about single American females believing, like our movie counterparts, we will jump in bed with any old guy almost as soon as we have met them. As such I have tried to live my life in a respectful way and take a very conservative approach to my interactions with men. This doesn’t mean that I never interact with men but I try to be wise about when I talk to men, how much I talk, and in what settings, etc. I had a general rule that I would not be alone with a man, nor would I spend more than 15 minutes talking with one. If a guy asked me to drink coffee with him I refused. If I tried to visit a female friend and found only her husband at the shop, I would move along. Of course there are some exceptions and sometimes I bend the rules depending on the situation. 

Several months ago I met a husband and wife duo at their shop. As months passed, J and I began to spend time with them and their two daughters in a family setting. They were a sweet family and seemed to actually love and care for one another. This came out in the ways they picked on each other amiably. I felt quite comfortable with them and enjoyed time in their company. 

One day I stopped by their shop to see if they could help me with a couple of problems. I needed help finding local health insurance for my residence permit and I needed some shelves in my kitchen. I figured they could advise me on the first and supply me with the second since that was their line of work. When I arrived I learned that the wife was at home with a toothache. Mr. E asked if I wanted to have a cup of tea with him. I bent my normal rule thinking that since I was in a public place, asking professional questions and wouldn’t be there for more than 15 or 20 minutes, it should be fine. Besides, our interactions had had no hint of anything beyond the abi/abla (brother/sister) relationship. We sipped the tea and he answered my questions. 

After 15-20 minutes when all my questions were asked, I got up to leave.  He stood by the door (normal) intending to walk me out (also normal.) As I was standing, he put his arms out by his side. This was not normal. There are lots of gestures here that I don’t understand but I thought since we are closer friends he may have wanted to do the more friend-like greeting. Normally men and women don’t touch each other. They might shake hands as a greeting or my closer male friends will hold my hand, like a handshake, and touch the side of their forehead to my forehead and then switch to the opposite side and do the same. What he was doing looked less like that and more like a hug but a hug didn’t fit into a space in my cultural repertoire. I put my arms the same as he had with a confused expression on my face. The next thing I knew, he had wrapped me in a full hugging embrace and then kissed me on the top of the head but not in a brotherly way. I was in shock! I had not expected that outcome. I backed away and he began to play it off like I had misunderstood and that we were just friends. He quickly switched the subject and told me he would come measure my kitchen shelves later that evening. I didn’t say much and got out of there as quickly as I could. 

As you can imagine, there were lots of emotions going through my head. Disgust, sadness for his wife, wondering what I had done to signal to him that this was ok, regret that I had sat with him, feeling foolish, mistrusting all the men here, wondering why his eyes were on me instead of his wife, wanting to rewind and erase, wanting to never see him again yet simultaneously wanting to continue the relationship with the females in his family. 

I wanted to send him a message saying what he did was wrong and I never wanted to see him again. After going home and praying through the situation though, I decided I needed to salvage the relationship with his family and also hoped the Father would somehow use this for his glory. I called him and let him know that the behavior was inappropriate. I explained that I saw him only as a brother. He told me I had misunderstood what had happened and that he had only been embracing me like a family friend. Yeah right. He then apologized and asked me to overlook his faults. It’s rare for a man to apologize here so I was grateful for this. I also said I was sorry. He came by later to measure the kitchen cabinets but brought his daughter with him. It was a little awkward but having both J and his daughter there made the situation not so terrible. 

Before moving here, I listened to a man talk about how it is imperative that we learn the culture we are going to. He used the wise men in the birth story as an example. These men from the east visited a power hungry king to inform him a new king was in town. Not knowing the culture or the king to whom they were approaching ended up in the death of all the two year old babies. This situation made me realize that I must be all the more vigilant to live above reproach, to be even more cautious as I interact with men here. It also made my heart heavy for the condition of the marriages here. Adultery is far too prevalent and I’d like to see the transforming One come and bring it to an end.  

A Week in the Life Episode 13

This week, the days have been long and full. In just 3 days, I averaged about 10 hours a day with locals. Sometimes I invite them over and they stay all day long!

One day I wanted to go to a birthday party for an acquaintance but I had already made plans with DG that evening. Trying to make time for both, I sent a text to DG asking if we could get together at 8pm. Unfortunately she could not. What to do? Then she replied back that she could come at 10pm. Imagine starting a visit with a guest at 10 at night! She asked me to make sushi for her. So J and I had second dinner around 10:30pm. She left around 12:30 in the morning. I think she would have stayed longer but I was exhausted and wasn’t being a good host. I felt myself feeling selfish towards her and wishing she would leave rather than doing the culturally appropriate thing and begging her to stay. I realized I needed some extra alone time with the Father to work on my cranky and sinful heart. I did spend the following day doing just that. 

Steaming tea from the birthday party.

No Turkish home is complete without an
assortment of house slippers. These
were extra awesome.

I stopped by to see CFS one day. In her usual crazy way, she told me to leave my coat on because she was going to take me somewhere. We hopped in the car and rode to two of her customers’ homes to oversee deliveries. She told me to take a picture and send it to my mom. Little did she know I had already done so.

A few days later, I invited Evi over for breakfast. She stayed until 4 in the afternoon. After “breakfast” I visited another friend until about 8:30 that night. 

The following day I went to watch the volleyball team, that Shanna is coaching, play a game. This was their second match and I later learned their final one. They attend a village school and there are only enough funds for them to play 2-3 games. I was glad I didn’t skip this one. I was surprised to see Moses, the immigration director, refereeing the match. Our paths cross frequently these days. Shanna’s girls won the first match easily. In the second match, they fell way behind and at a score of 21-7, it seemed inevitable they would lose this match. Miracle of miracles they pulled a comeback and won the game! I was so happy for them as they had only been playing volleyball for 3 months. 

The principal of the school took the girls out to eat to celebrate their 2 game season. It was also Shanna’s birthday and she invited me to go as well. Shanna, another teacher, myself, and 5 preteen girls piled into a 5 passenger car and rode to the mall to eat at Burger King. For some of these girls, this was their first time ever eating a hamburger or at a fast food place. Some of the girls went around and collected all the leftover fries on the trays to save them for later. It was precious to be a part of that. 

After the burgers we went to Shanna’s school to have some cake. She showed me around the school afterwards. Some of the students were without a teacher so they essentially had unmonitored free time in their classroom. Everyone in the school kept telling her to show me their library. They were so proud of it. A local tractor company has donated all of the books and shelves to the library. It is about a 225 sq ft room with books for ages from kindergarten to 8th grade. It didn’t seem like much to me but she said some of the public schools in the city center did not have such a great library.  

When I was at my American friends’ house this week, I noticed that they had almost as many books for their family as the library had for a whole school of 250 students. We take for granted small privileges like having books. I feel like seeing these things makes me realize how much I took for granted growing up where I did. It made me stop and think about the ways our countries are different. Most Americans have a car or transportation. Most Turks do not. For this reason, everything in America is spread out but everything in Turkey is repeated amongst neighborhoods and villages. My hometown had 1 elementary school, 1 middle school, and 1 high school. Everyone pooled their resources together so we could have a nice gym and library in each school. With over a hundred small schools in this city of course each wouldn’t be able to have all of these nice things. 

After spending the bulk of the day with Shanna, I visited another friend and got home again around 8:30 at night. The following morning, my roommate and I hosted a sweet teenager who is trying to learn English. She came over around 9:30 for breakfast and stayed until 7 at night! We were exhausted after this. While she was there, she insisted we try a delicacy local dish otherwise known as intestines. We put our brave faces on and did it. I was able to eat mine but I didn’t particularly like mine. J didn’t finish her half and our friend was overjoyed at being able to finish J’s part. 

A Week in the Life Episode 12

One day I visited a guy who is a bit on the crazy side. Actually my language helper says I am a magnet for crazy men and that I run into one of them at least once a month. I think this month has been more like once a week. Anyway, this crazy man told me he thought the Russians were responsible for hurricanes in America. I looked at him incredulously stating the Russians can’t control the weather. He argued with me and said it Russian women are the cause of the hurricanes. I continued staring at him in disbelief. I asked him to explain further. He said the hurricanes are named after Russian women, like Katrina, because they are the cause of the storms. At that point I declared this information to be ridiculous. I explained that the hurricanes have different names that go in alphabetical order alternating between male and female. I showed him the 2016 list: Alex, Bonnie, Colin, Danielle, Earl, Fiona, etc. none of which are Russian names. He continued to argue with me and the girl working with him took his side. They had both seen a news article stating their case. I scoffed at them and said you can’t believe everything you see on the news. 

Speaking of this, I saw a link on Facebook saying that Tom Selleck was such a strong Christian and attributes everything to Jesus Christ. I was curious since I had never heard this before. In the article, it quoted him saying that he had started acting but then God had a different plan and he went to Vietnam. Then he eventually stopped acting for a while to start a family because he felt God leading him to do so. Afterwards, he was quoted as saying he tries to live an ethical life. Nowhere on the link, nor anywhere on the web have I found where Tom Selleck has said anything about being a Christian or that he owes everything to Jesus. It is truly baffling why someone would write all of that and I wonder how many people read the article without an ounce of critical thinking. DON’T BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU READ ON THE INTERNET FOR GOODNESS’ SAKE! 

One day I stopped by the carpet store to pick out some gifts. When I went to pay for the gifts, I realized I was short on cash. My carpet store friend told me not to worry and I could take the stuff that day and bring some cash back another day. These are the reasons why I love living here. 

One day I successfully renewed my internet contract while the lady workers bragged on how awesome I was doing in my second language. I was hit on by a random man on the street ('cause I still got it) and then successfully evaded him as he began semi stalking me. I met with my friends at the immigration office to see what I need to do to renew my residence permit. Then I met another random girl in a shop who decided we were going to be friends. She basically bossed me around. As we were parting ways, she said, "See you later," but never got my contact info so I'm not sure how that will happen, nor am I sure I want it to. I finished the day by eating pan-fried chicken livers (they were actually quite tasty), drinking Turkish coffee, and watching a local television series with my local friend. I walked about 4.5 miles that day.

My plate of livers and a special kind of rice.

I don’t laugh as much here as I did in America. I think this is attributed to stress and fatigue. I also think that since this is not my first culture and language, I don’t always understand the humor here. Nonetheless, there are a few things that can make me giggle. My roommate and I have recently started using Snapchat. The pictures and videos that we come up with can sometimes make us laugh pretty good. Another thing I like to do is find random English on T-shirts around here. One day we went to the outdoor clothing market and searched for funny shirts. Pictured below were some of our finds. One of them even referenced Chattanooga, a city near my hometown.

One day I saw this quote posted on Facebook, “Everything you want is on the other side of fear.” It is so true for my life here. Especially in my early days, I had to do lots of scary things. I didn’t have a choice, I just had to find enough courage to ride the bus, knock on my neighbor’s door, brave the pazar alone, or some days just to leave my house. The more I did those things, the more I found my life here. We have to simply leap over our fears or else ignore them to get the job done and what we find on the other side was worth the risk. 

My city has been doing road work everywhere for months now. Part of this work involves adding new street lights in the form of these tulip lights. These lights are popping up literally everywhere. The lights, reminiscent of the fair, give me much amusement. In addition to the lights, they have been adding these giant symbols called tuğras in the big intersection. The word tuğra means sultan’s signature. Apparently the ones in my city are the largest tuğras in the country. A claim to fame for this tiny place.

The giant tuğra

A Week in the Life Episode 11

When F, my house helper comes over. She always takes a break halfway through the shift and we sip tea and chat for about an hour. I had read an article called Good Samaritan or Gullible Sucker. I decided to ask her what the cultural perspective was on beggars. When does she give and when does she know that the person is faking. She said she never gives to beggars but will give old clothes to refugees. I then asked her if she gives loans to close friends. Without hesitation, if she has money she always gives to her friends. This was the 3rd local who has given me the same advice. I told her that the Word informs my views on these things and I wrestle with what to do. I don’t want to be a gullible sucker but yet I see in the Word that when we are told to give there are no conditions. It doesn’t say “Give to anyone who is definitely not trying to swindle you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you unless you think you’re not really helping them.” Mt 5:42 (revised) I want my perspectives and my giving to be based not on my American cultural background, nor on what locals would do but on the Word and what the Lord expects of me.

Kadie, her mom, and cousin came over for a visit one last time before she returns to her city. They told me of another city near Kadie’s current one that has the Sacred Fish Lake. According to legend, the king was angry with Abraham and wanted to throw him into a giant fire. When he did this, the flames turned to water and the logs turned to fish. Abraham was saved. Now the fish in the lake are considered sacred and no one is allowed to fish there. You can read more about it here.  

I sat with my local grandpa, AB, this week. He spent the first half hour trying to convince me I needed to marry or else I would be missing out on great joys in life. I agreed that marriage did bring blessings but tried to convey that I was happy and had learned to be content with singleness. I wanted to say more but found it hard to do so in my second language. 

He went on to tell  me that he had once been like me. His dad wanted him to choose a girl from his hometown and settle down. He wasn’t interested. So while he was away, his dad promised him to a girl from another town and told him he would marry her. According to him, you didn’t backtalk your dad so he agreed to go through with the promise even though he had never met the girl. They met and were married 5 months later. They have been married for 40 years. 

I read a book once. It asked the question, what is one thing God could give us to show himself to be most loving? As I flipped the page, I guessed that the answer would be a husband. The book said that there is only one answer to the question and God has already given it to us, he has given us himself. I read this week of a woman who had moved overseas and died while serving abroad. She wrote this in a letter before she transitioned overseas, “If you are reading this letter, it means I won’t be coming home, for I am with Jesus! THERE ARE NO REGRETS! My call is to obedience. Suffering is expected; His glory is my reward. His glory is my reward.’” Again this week, I read Ps 63:3. It says, “Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you.”  

These are the things I wished I had said to AB: JC’s love is BETTER than life and I already have it. I am endowed with a love and a relationship better than a spousal or parental one. His glory is my REWARD. Don’t pity me. Don’t assume I have regrets. I have a love that is better than even my own life. 

My new residence permit card came this week. As soon as I got it, J and I went back to the census office to register her address. It was a freezing cold day and we were both surprised to make it to see a line of people standing outside waiting to get in. Everyone was in an uproar about the line which means it’s not normal to wait outside. I had saw the previous week that the place was crowded because everyone in the whole country was required to get new identity cards. We had to close the personal space gap and cram our way into the mass of people so as to not constantly get shoved to the back of the line. After about 20 minutes, we made it inside. They were doing a thorough metal detecting job for everyone. Once we got up to the address floor, I estimate there were about 200 people in the hallway. I shoved my way to the number giving machine. We only had 10 people in front of us. As we waited for our number to be called, folks would come up to me and ask where the line was. I was able to tell them that they had to get a number. It felt great to be more in the know about something than the locals. Eventually our number was called and we marked this task off our to do list. 

Here are some other sights from the week:

I always buy more groceries than I can carry.

Normal life involves lots of kitchen work like
washing and drying spinach.

It's been frigid this week. We
haven't seen temps above the
50s in months.

That's 5 of us crammed in an elevator.