| Christmas church, Antje (roommate), me, Bea (the doctor in the video I mention) |
I write this blog as a love letter to my family, and to rural Bangladeshis.
It is about how I learned to deal with uncertainty
differently with my family over the last couple of years, and how I may also
have learned something along those lines from Bangladeshis over even more
years.
During a visit to LAMB years ago, my sisters commented on
how relaxed people seemed as we walked in villages nearby LAMB. I remember somehow
being defensive about how ‘bad things really were’ by talking about the things
we couldn’t see, such as kids not going to school or ‘missing women’ who had
died from childbirth complications, possibly after young adolescent marriages (which
is still all too true, as in a recent 25 minute news report filmed in our part
of Bangladesh called “Too Young to be Married,” which includes a LAMB doctor
commenting on obstetric fistulae, seen at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yPp-p2RI_jo).
But the ‘relaxation’ was not just fatalism (as I had understood
it earlier in my Bangladesh time). Now I
think it reflects what IS a more relaxed attitude toward potential crisis, or uncertainty.
I am reading one book for school that says crisis-oriented people will always
be looking to prevent or reduce repercussions from future crises through good
planning, thinking ‘What if something bad happens?' Non-crisis oriented people think ‘bad things
don’t usually happen,’ so they respond to problems as they arise according to
possibilities that present themselves. One
is future oriented, one is now: which
one sounds more relaxed? I think I have
moved away from ‘that is just wrong, not to plan or solve problems!’ to more of a ‘well, there are advantages
to being more relaxed’ but to approach problem-solving by starting from where people are.
I am still a bit more crisis > non-crisis (?because I am a medical doctor). This
past week I was moderately frantic when giving a training workshop: ‘We don’t
have this or that material or equipment!’
I was truly thankful for how my Bangladeshi co-facilitator Gita replied
two or three times with “No problem!” and a smile while she bustled around adapting
to the situation as it was. I think the
complementary orientation was what made us a good team. I loved working with Gita,
and the whole trainee group who had also responded with smiles despite
technical difficulties. The trainee group is pictured above (Gita with her back to you, blue outfit) when they were doing a role play about how women in a village group could work to stop an early marriage--just to show you how our work at LAMB is working toward stopping the situation in the video above.
I thought I had developed a hard-won peace in the face of
uncertainty and ambiguity, partly from living in Bangladesh, and also from
dealing with the details of Mom and Dad’s illnesses. But this past week, with my Dad hospitalized
in the States, I found myself, at a distance, almost as frustrated and frantic
over things I was worried would get overlooked, or changed without adequate
consideration of various details. I
realized my peace was actually pretty fragile.
This week I read (and contributed to) hundreds of texts
going around amongst siblings and relatives (also about my godfather, Mom’s
older brother and a stalwart man of God; had been trying to lend an ear and some
advice to dealing with his bone mets and advanced cancer). Dealing with uncertainty
together with my family is a precious experience, a thing of beauty, because of
the bedrock family strength we were raised in and lean on. We all shared (in texts and emails) various
levels of distress over what we can and can’t do in helping as care-givers and
companions for Dad (and my godfather), while at the same time reassuring each other and being upbeat
with him (I think).
In another book I am reading, it describes where some
of our family strength comes from. It says missionaries from a farm/rural
background are especially effective “when ministering in rural ministry areas.
My hunch is that farmers understand community and can live with uncertainty.
They realize that they cannot control rainfall, the first frost or when baby [calves]
will be born. They work hard and are highly motivated, but they have learned to
“go with the flow.” … They’ve learned to work together and stay in close
contact with the ever-unfolding situation around them and to be innovative when
the unexpected happens.”
So thanks to my siblings for dealing calmly with ‘the
ever-unfolding situation’ of Dad’s health and wellbeing, and to Bangladeshis
for tolerating uncertainty, and teaching me to do the same. Again I quote Psalm 91 (can't get away from this amazing reminder of security in God):
Psa 91:2 I will say of the LORD,
"He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust."
