It’s interesting how much energy we put into making ourselves comfortable all of the time. As “Westerners,” our minds are constantly flooded with the desire to change our circumstances almost instantly after we find ourselves uncomfortable. It may sound a little bit silly, but our family has been living here in Papua New Guinea for nearly 4 months now, and I personally have been trying to pay attention to every moment that I can when the “uncomfortable” has found me. This can range from a simple misunderstanding with a local who’s trying to communicate with me in their language that I haven’t grasped yet, to sitting on the ground for a couple hours in a worship service of a bush church, to my stomach punishing me for giving it foods it’s not used to, or even the seemingly endless hours behind a computer I have had since I’ve been here. I could continue listing things that are different about my new life as a missionary in a land much different than what I’m used to, but as an American, it’s easy for me to point out everything that’s not normal to me, and might make me a little uncomfortable here, because as an American, I can generally find remedies over much of my discomforts.

Just for fun, I sometimes like to plug in some of my discomforts to see how I’d alleviate them if I were back home. For example, take my ignorance in Tok Pisin (the local language here). How would I adjust to that uncomfortable situation? Well, back home, almost everyone speaks English, so maybe that one doesn’t count. But, I’ve never sat on the ground for routine, week after week, worship services like so many churches do here. We wouldn’t stand for anything like that back home! Many of our American churches have nice, cushioned, seating to enjoy their pastor’s sub 30 minute sermon. And if they don’t, they can find a church that does just down the road…problem solved. For the food that was served me that didn’t settle well, I can tell everyone I know back home about my experience, and leave a bad review for the injustice. For the endless hours behind the computer, that’s actually a very American concept, but I have never had a job that required so much of it from me before. So much in PNG has to come from somewhere else in the world, so it takes numerous emails, Zoom calls, and internet research to accomplish. In America, we have Amazon Prime’s free two-day shipping, 23 local plumbing companies, or a general contractor on every corner. It’s easy to get used to that kind of availability to service, because we have so many options for our needs.

In rural Papua New Guinea, there’s quite a contrast to that kind of reality. I recently had the opportunity to spend a few weeks in a remote village called Bana about 4 hours off the northern coast. Bana is tucked way back in the coastal mountains, and our church has a rural clinic there called Bana Health Center. This little clinic averages over 10,000 patients a year, and serves as the area’s only form of quality, reliable health care for miles upon miles. What this clinic accomplishes on a regular basis is nothing short of amazing. These clinics like Bana that the Nazarene church has spread out over much of PNG are an incredible opportunity for us to meet people at their physical need, and allow us the opportunity to share Jesus with the patients. The Bana clinic was in desperate need of repairs, and much of it was too far gone to fix, so it was chosen as a site to build a completely new clinic. We had some generous people from our Philadelphia District back in the U.S. raise $60,000 to help fund the new building, and they also sent a team of 11 men to help construct it. Here’s a link to my vlog highlighting this trip… @ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FtXpSqNPFGk … I won’t get into much in explaining it here, because I feel the video captures it well enough. What I really wanted to bring light to is the incredible everyday lives of Papua New Guineans in places much like Bana. From someone like myself, who grew up in the Midwest where conveniences surrounded me daily, it’s super easy to become absorbed in that way of life and uncomfortable in something different.

Each morning, I witnessed locals tending their morning fires on the ground just outside their huts where they would boil water or prepare a meal to begin their day. Throughout the day, playful toddlers would run around with little clothing, some with no clothes at all, to perform their daily chores or to participate in their next adventure. Many of the local men would come in their bare feet or flip flops to help us with the construction of the clinic, and they would work hard right along with us all day. Several of the women would take our dirty laundry down to the river every few days with a bar of soap to wash it all, and would spent countless hours in the cookhouse preparing meals for us and the volunteers. With no power even remotely close to Bana, we as a team relied on the clinics portable generator to run certain tools and to charge our tool batteries. The clinic relies on solar power for lights at night and to pump water from the rain collection tanks. The team slept under nets each night to protect them from the malaria-carrying mosquitos. It was absolutely incredible how much everyone in Bana went out of their way to try and keep us comfortable during our stay there. It was almost like they knew we weren’t cut out for Bana life…many times I have to admit, I think they’d be right.

Honestly, there were some times where I found myself annoyed, maybe even a bit aggravated at my “discomfort” while I was there. I remember one particular night, not far into my trip, when I was wallowing in self-pity over my inconvenient situation. I was frustrated because my phone had not been working for a few days, and I wasn’t able to message Erin and the kids. I was laying on my sleeping mat, sweating profusely, and trying to go to sleep with little success in sight. I began wondering if I was going to be able to make it for the 3 weeks I was supposed to be there. I thought to myself, “How can anyone ever get some sleep in this heat?” “How will I be able to stand not hearing from my family all this time? I remember thinking, “How could anyone live like this everyday?”

Then it dawned on me how unbelievably dumb it was for me to be complaining about my little inconvenience. The Lord began reminding me how shallow my perspective can be sometimes. I began to realize how silly it was for me to feel sorry for myself, and I began to feel shame in my selfishness…I was only going to be “inconvenienced” for 3 measly weeks! The Lord opened my eyes to how the locals there, who many have lived their entire lives around Bana, weren’t complaining about their lack of electricity, the poor cell service, and the warm night air. They were more focused on how they could make me feel more comfortable to pay attention to anything inconvenient to themselves. I began to wonder, “Why am I not more like them?” I felt pathetic, foolish, and I asked the Lord to forgive me. What a beautiful people the people of Bana are, and I pray that I can become more like them.

Webster defines the word “comfort” as, “a state of physical ease and freedom from pain or constraint.” My mind seems to always be consumed with making sure I remain in “a state of physical ease…free from constraint.” I spend so much of my time and energy pursuing that state and fighting off anything that tries to take it away from me. I believe it’s a sickness that many of us don’t even realize we have. I was reminded of Paul in Romans 5 where he seems to be relishing in his discomforts…the exact opposite of what I generally do. He states beginning in verse 3, “…we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” 

“Discomfort,” “suffering,” “inconvenience”…whatever we choose to call it, I really believe just comes down to perspective. We don’t have to look far to find ways to help us in our perspective. My few short weeks in the Sepik heat was relieved when I returned home to the cool temps of my Highlands home in Kudjip. When I woke up this morning, I was thankful to turn on some lights that lit my way to our indoor gas stove to boil water for my morning coffee. I then walked over to the recliner in my office to begin my morning devotions, and as I sat down in that comfortable chair to my freshly poured cup of coffee, I thought of my wonderful Bana friends, squatting barefoot in front their morning fires in preparation for the day ahead. Up just a stones throw from their home, sits their village’s new prized possession, the new clinic. Admiring the building, they are thankful to all the people that helped make it happen as it will serve their community for generations to come.

Perspective is a powerful blessing I believe the Lord gives us if we sincerely want it and ask Him for it. I’m thankful for the perspective He’s given me lately, and I’m praying for more and more each day. Maybe with a little more perspective, I’ll focus less on what troubles me at the moment, remain focused on just how blessed I really am, and use that perspective to bless someone else.