Living in a Man’s World

The last few weeks have been really difficult.  I moved into a house that needed quite a bit of work. I have been working with plumbers and carpenters and more.  I know what’s needed, and in American I could just buy the supplies and do it myself. Here either I don’t know where or how to find the needed supplies or I simply can’t do it on my own.  I am dependent- dependent upon men who don’t speak the same language as me, and who live in a world where they don’t have to care about the women’s opinion.  Yet I am the one paying for their services.  As they say here, Kya Kare, which means, what to do? The Hindi I do speak hasn’t covered words such as leaks, screws, level measuring, etc.  These are not words in my vocabulary, so try as I might, I feel the carpenter and I are on different pages.  I tell him what I want and he tells me how he is going to do it.  My opinion means little to him.  I walked in the room, and he explained the wall was too weak and the shelf had fallen off of the wall to the ground.  There were 6 gaping holes in the wall.  Confidently, he told me he could hang it on another wall that was sturdier.  Again, he tried, and the shelf hung very crooked. He told me he thought it was fine and had measured it correctly.  I said, “Step away and look at it”. It’s about 2 inches lower on one side than the other.  I said, “I am paying you, and I expect it to look correct”.  Correct was the best word I could come up with since I couldn’t say level. I now have 15 gaping holes in the wall, in which he tried to fix it and only made more holes.  In the end, he told me the shelf can’t be hung and now I should call someone to come fix all the holes in the wall; he can’t do that either.  I have to pay him per hour, and now I also have to call the painter to come and fix the walls and paint again. It feels like such a waste of time and money and energy. It’s frustrating and I wish I had never asked for help in the first place.  In the midst of all this, another man came to help with a different project, the two men were fighting because the one was jealous I was giving work to a different man that he thought I should have asked him about. Again, no matter what I said it didn’t matter, it was as if I wasn’t standing there and my words were mute to their ears.

I stepped away frustrated and wishing I were a man.  I caught my breath and held back my tears of frustration.  This has been two plus weeks of ongoing construction like this.  I offered a silent prayer to God, “Father, what do you want me to learn in all this; there must be something?”

And there it was- the lesson I needed to learn. It’s not always what we think it is. The surface is not always the same as what lies beneath. Some things go deeper, deeper than we can see. Things like the gaping holes behind the plaster that can’t support screws; things like culture and viewpoints of women; and things like the love of God. His love goes deeper than my perfectionism; my wanting things to be my way; my own sinful ways; and yes even the flaws of my carpenter. Just when I think I understand culture, I learn another layer and experience it in a real way.  Yet God’s love is deep and wide and lasting through the cultural adjustment journey I am on, and will continue to be on as long as I live here.  His love never fails and surpasses the cultural boundaries I find myself stuck in.  And as I processed these things, I felt God say, “Are you willing to endure this- A culture you feel called to live in the rest of your life, where you may never find your opinion matters and where you might always live in a man’s world?  Are you willing to submit to this?  It’s a choice. Are you willing?”

And today, I say, “Yes, Yes L0rd I am willing!  I realize you are enough for me, and even when the surface is not the same as what lies beneath, I am willing.  I am willing to press into the depths of your love and steadfastness that go deeper than the surface, than the momentary things.  I am willing.  You are enough for me.  In a man’s world, I bow and say, ‘Je$us, you are enough for me; your grace is sufficient for me!’”

Today my prayer is that I would always look beyond the surface for the reality of God’s love and grace in the midst of my life and frustrations.  I pray that I could have a transfiguration to live a life abounding in love to those around me, even when they put giant holes in my walls, and don’t care what I want, or listen to what I say.  For the sake of love and for India, I say I am willing to live this life L0rd.