Out of the Fairytale

Friday morning, I woke up staring at the ceiling in bitterness, thinking, "WHY. WHY WHY WHY. THIS ISN'T FAIR." In other words, I had not slept well again, which is not conducive to adjusting to a new country. 

Walking out onto the streets of China has felt much like the scene from Enchanted where Gizelle falls out of the fairytale and into the real world. Everything is more difficult, more dirty, and smells weird. It's harder to get to Starbucks, get to sleep, get some dinner, and get a grip sometimes. I also can't speak to animals...but I could never do that in the first place.

And every once in a while, I look up at the ceiling and say, "You called me here! Why aren't you making the adjustment easier? Why does my stomach hurt all the time and why can't I stop sneezing? Why are you not letting me sleep?" 

WOW.

Did you hear all the ME in that?? 

Sometimes I forget that He is Master and I am not. In America, I lived in a land of illusion--the illusion of comfort and control. Here, the veil has slipped. I have lost the illusion of control over my life. I can't just jump in my car and drive ten minutes to Starbucks when I'm having a bad day. I am not adjusted to the food. I CAN'T speak Chinese. 

The Father is as in control as ever, it's just that now I actually have to recognize His control. I also have to rest in it, which is something I don't do well. 

In the midst of it, he uses small things to show me that He's taking care of me. 

On Friday, after my whine-fest as the ceiling, I somehow had the energy to make it through seven hours of classes cheerfully. I went out to dinner with two of my friends, Hilary and Andrew, and ate until I was full. 

Then we watched TANGLED and threw around my panda and ate Dove chocolate and laughedandlaughedandlaughed. Without having woken up frustrated and sick, this would not have been nearly as sweet.  

On Saturday, Hilary and I were headed home from the subway and no taxis would pick us up and we couldn't find a bus stop to save our lives. An hour into it we both had to pee and I let out a frustrated, "Where are the public restrooms? Or even a gas station???" I kid you NOT, less than two minutes later, we came across this sign:

Next to this: 

Neither of these things are common here. 

Then, this morning, after a bus ride and an hour of walking, I did make it to Starbucks. 

It's the little things that count. The Father has called me here and He is taking care of me, He's just doing it in a way that challenges me to grow rather than wallowing in convenience as I did in the fairytale of American life.