Aug. 8, 2008 - 150% Person

*************************************Cliffnotes Available at page bottom********************************************

So what is a 150% person? It's really no mystery if you've been to OMS's new missionary training in the last 5 years. It's a term that was created to capture the idea of becoming part of another culture. Not just a spectator, but a participant. You have to voluntarily let go of some of your own cultural identity, in order to embrace and personify the new culture in which you are a foreigner And as you do so, little by little you become less a foreigner You become more trusted, you become relatable, you become more intimate with those whom you came to serve. It is no easy process to choose to let slip away parts of your own cultural identity, in order to assimilate another. But when all is said and done, is there another way? Missionaries have been doing this for generations. The apostle Paul said it best when he said in 1 Corinthians 9:22 "I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some of them." You've seen old faded pictures of these types of missionaries. He was the tall white guy in the black-and-white picture dressed like the Japanese that surrounded him. Perhaps you even remember them passing through your church. The mission Sundays when he'd come with his slide reels. The lights would dim, and the stories would begin. Stories of the lives of these strange faces that seemed to look back at you from the screen. Strange faces, strange names, strange customs. At least, strange to us....but not to him. He knew them all. And though he was here with us that day, much of his heart was still in another country . Sure he was dressed like us, and he looked like us, but he was a man divided, you could tell just by looking. Belonging fully neither here or there. A man without a home. And this is the price of becoming a 150% person.

Ironically, this was particularly the price that I did not want to pay when I started in missions over 8 years ago. I guess that is at least part of the reason why short-term missions was so appealing to me initially. I thought I could zip in, see a culture, experience different things, and zip out. Gain an experience, but not have to change, not have to pay that price; not have to loose a piece of who I was, not have become that man divided. Then, I lived in a different culture where I saw the necessity of becoming a 150% person. I figured I could adapt, I could change....but this change would only have to be a temporary change. Like the 007 in the movies, I figured that when I boarded the international flight that would bring me back to the US, I could turn it off, I could come back whole. I would not have to leave a part of my heart in a different land. But as the reality of leaving Brazil for a while, and Londrina for good, came upon us a little over 2 weeks ago, I have found that I'm having a much harder time packing, a much harder time leaving than I had hoped. And through this time of packing, this division is only becoming more and more apparent.

It is the anticipation and experience of sadness and excitement at the same time. Excitement to get to the US, to see friends and family, the eat a good burger, to watch Samara play with her grandparents, to watch a sunset on the Oregon coast. And yet the sadness of saying goodbye. The friends God has blessed us with here, the memories of so many first with Samara, the church we have invested in so much. It's the excitement of being home for Christmas surrounded by family combined the sadness of knowing to do such, we'll miss the wedding of a good friend, and the births of two of our friends babies. It's the phone calls from our parents preparing their house for their grandchild, and the meals with good friends passed in awkward silence because everybody knows that we'll not be able to hang out again. Then there are also so many of those little things that have only become sentimental when we've realized that we may never experience them again. The pack of friendly neighborhood dogs that roam the streets at will, or the kids playing in the streets that Samara loves so much The washing our sidewalks, the clapping at people's gates, or the awkward teenage boy that always comes and yells for me right after we put Samara down for her afternoon nap. It's bittersweet.

With each picture that is taken off the wall, with each box packed, this bitter-sweetness intensifies. I guess we can be thankful for the to-do lists that we have to work though each day, and for the business of preparation that temporarily takes our minds off of things. But these thoughts are always there, not far off. Easily triggered. In fact I debated for a while even writing this e-mail, but when we started this journey nearly 4 years ago, I made a commitment to remain as transparent as I could in these e-mails. And this bitter-sweetness is part of this journey. I imagine it will become a familiar part.

And yet, when I stop to think of all of these emotions, they are not something I want shielded from. For in experiencing them, it become becomes increasingly evident the extent of our investment here. And the tears that we see in others eyes only serve to show how warmly and readily hearts here in this community received us. I also would not desire any shade of pity from anybody in this process. Though it is hard, it only serves to remind me in a real way that this world, neither Brazil or the US, is my home. And my heart will never be fully satisfied until we are all in that place which our Father is preparing for us. And when we all do get there.... I have some friends I'd like to introduce you all to.

Prayer requests:
-Health as we travel. Marla's pregnancy has left her very tired lately
-Transition for all of us, especially for Samara.
-The church family here, as they were told just last week that we will likely not be returning to work there
-For our time of support raising in the state, that God will raise up new partners to join us in prayer and financial support.

Thanks for being a part of this,
Micah and Marla

ps. The first picture is of Samara helping us pack. And the second is of our worship team praying before our Sunday service

******************Cliffnotes: 150% Person************************************************
This e-mail touches on some of the difficulty assosiated with living in two different cultures. Obviously these seem to surface more in times of tansition. And it makes sense