Lessons in humility, trust, and southern hospitality

I accepted a ride from, for all intensive purposes, a complete stranger Friday morning. I didn’t have much choice. One of my teammates had dropped me off at Mass and I banked on being able to secure a ride home with someone I knew. But there was only one man in attendance. And I had never met him before. It was ride with the stranger or walk home in the newly cold weather.

I chose the former.

Prior to this week, I always thought I didn’t like asking for things (rides included) because I didn’t like to impose or put people out. I think this is true to an extent, but this week I learned a deeper reason to why I don’t ask: pride. With every question there is a possibility for rejection, a possibility that someone will say no. In sharing a van with four other people, I am learning to swallow my pride and embrace humility in the form of rides from people whose names I sometimes struggle to remember.

I also learned an entirely new aspect of humility this evening in Heavener, Oklahoma, attending Spanish Mass said by Fr. Don, the priest at my church, with one of my teammates. Perhaps for the first time in my life I felt completely lost in a Catholic Church. My 22 years of Sunday attendance had ill prepared me for this moment. I clumsily flipped through the hymnal trying to find the right page and follow along in English to no avail. After the service I was almost entirely dependent on my Spanish-speaking teammate to keep me in the loop on conversation with the parishioners.

In the same way that I find myself almost overwhelmed with opportunities to grow in my humility, I am also amazed by the amount of trust I have seen in Booneville. I am pleasantly surprised by the trust placed in us as interns, as temporary people in this community, who just over a month ago were complete strangers.

But the trust, combined with a good dose of southern hospitability, makes my newfound humility a lot easier to swallow. I rarely have to ask for a ride before one has already been offered. I would much rather accept an extended invitation (or not accept) than be turned down by someone. I have been able to experience so many great, new things thanks to the generosity of the people here in Booneville (not to mention that they have saved me a lot of long walks home from church). Earlier in the week I even got a ride offered from a random car passing by.

I did, however, turn down that one.

And oh, the places I'll go!

As I watched the small shadow of our 15-passenger van move along the bushes outside my window on our way to Mt. Eagle earlier this week, it really sunk in to me: “I live in Arkansas now.”

It is absolutely unbelievable to me when I start to think about the places God has taken me over the years. Almost a decade ago now, I convinced my parents to let me sign up for my first mission trip to Detroit, Michigan. Prior to that I hadn’t been much of anywhere outside Cincinnati or Buffalo, New York, so I wanted a new experience in a new place.

Of course after spending a week in Detroit doing service I appreciated the mission trip for more than just seeing somewhere new. And a new mission experience in a new place followed each summer after: New Orleans, Louisiana; Camden, New Jersey; Lexington, Kentucky; St. Louis, Missouri; and Ft. Apache, Arizona.

During college I took a break from service, but resumed this summer with a place I had never expected to go in my entire life: South Dakota. I still miss the beauty of the Black Hills that I got used to seeing lots of week in and week out. Now here I am in another beautiful place appreciating the new experiences. In one week I got to see Mt. Eagle and the Heifer Ranch in Perryville (go check out www.Heifer.org).

So, in a nutshell, while part of me might desire to just be comfortable at home in Cincinnati, I am embracing and appreciating the amazing new places and people God is introducing me to throughout all of these experiences. And I am also working toward embracing those He might have for me in the future.

The follow-through

I’ve been spending some time thinking this week about the commitments I’ve made here in Booneville. We were warned in training not to over-commit, so I’ve been careful to not make too many promises or take on too much over the past several weeks we’ve been here now. What is on the forefront of my mind is the importance to agree to do realistic things and build on those as I go.

There is quite possibly nothing worse than a broken promise, and the last thing I would want to do is agree to be involved with something I can’t.

Along the same lines, we are talking about personal goals this evening as a group. One of my teammates is not a huge fan of coming up with goals and asked, “What if I don’t have as many goals as everyone else.” My response was that the number is not what is important, but that the set goal or goals are ones we truly work toward accomplishing.

And I can take my own advice and apply it to where I serve here in Booneville. It isn’t necessary to spend every waking moment busy. In fact, I would be doing myself a disservice if I took no time to rest and concentrate on my commitments.

By having a few good goals to concentrate on, I will be more able to accomplish them. If I take on just a few good tasks at a time, I can pour myself into them and make them something great (and, I hope, self-sustainable). Then I can begin new projects (or new goals, whichever the case may be).

All that said, my unspoken goal tonight will be to commit wisely and follow through with each and every commitment to the best of my ability.

God bless,

Becca