Over the last two months, I have experienced many, many, many new things. And, as I have previously mentioned, a good number of these new experiences are awkward and/or difficult. I have learned that there are many ways that you can deal with the awkward and difficult. You can hide from it, you can cry about it, you can get angry over it, or you can laugh it off. Personally, I have chosen laughter as my coping mechanism.
For example, there are days when you come home and realize you have to eat something. And then you remember that you don't really know how to use the microwave. Or read the directions on the package. And you just have to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. What single, 22 year old woman living on her own, doesn't know how to use a microwave??
Other days, you go to restaurants with friends and none of you have any idea what the waitress is trying to tell you, and you all stare at her confusedly until a nice Korean man who speaks perfect English takes pity on you and saves the day. And then you end up laughing from gratitude and relief.
Some days it rains and you wear the wrong shoes and have two spectacular falls in a row at the bus stop in front of your apartment building. And all you can do is laugh as you pick yourself up off the ground and think about how glad you are that you don't know anyone.
On rare occasions, your co-teacher lets you know that the maintenance people will be coming to your apartment to fix your toilet while you are at school. And you'll remember the six pairs of shoes sitting in the small entryway, and the underwear hanging from the drying rack that you haven't put away yet, and the large pile of clothes you went through trying to find the right outfit, and the dishes in the sink. And you laugh, because there's nothing you can do about it.
On a weekly basis, you find yourself at church. One of your favorite places, yet, admittedly, one of the most awkward. You know it's a place where you belong, but your not really sure how. A place where you find making friends more awkward than you ever have in your life. (Oh, awkward friends. I do love you. Really.) And there you sit, silently laughing at the juxtaposition of two opposites: the beauty and truth of the gospel clashing with the awkwardness and insecurity of a different language and culture. (And some days, you cry here. Like when one of the sisters that you have never spoken to gives you Korean tourist maps and books, in English, and you almost start tearing up because you feel so loved.)
But mostly, I find myself laughing just because I can.
Because laughter is the best medicine.
Because I am alive.
Because life is wonderful.
For example, there are days when you come home and realize you have to eat something. And then you remember that you don't really know how to use the microwave. Or read the directions on the package. And you just have to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. What single, 22 year old woman living on her own, doesn't know how to use a microwave??
Other days, you go to restaurants with friends and none of you have any idea what the waitress is trying to tell you, and you all stare at her confusedly until a nice Korean man who speaks perfect English takes pity on you and saves the day. And then you end up laughing from gratitude and relief.
Some days it rains and you wear the wrong shoes and have two spectacular falls in a row at the bus stop in front of your apartment building. And all you can do is laugh as you pick yourself up off the ground and think about how glad you are that you don't know anyone.
On rare occasions, your co-teacher lets you know that the maintenance people will be coming to your apartment to fix your toilet while you are at school. And you'll remember the six pairs of shoes sitting in the small entryway, and the underwear hanging from the drying rack that you haven't put away yet, and the large pile of clothes you went through trying to find the right outfit, and the dishes in the sink. And you laugh, because there's nothing you can do about it.
On a weekly basis, you find yourself at church. One of your favorite places, yet, admittedly, one of the most awkward. You know it's a place where you belong, but your not really sure how. A place where you find making friends more awkward than you ever have in your life. (Oh, awkward friends. I do love you. Really.) And there you sit, silently laughing at the juxtaposition of two opposites: the beauty and truth of the gospel clashing with the awkwardness and insecurity of a different language and culture. (And some days, you cry here. Like when one of the sisters that you have never spoken to gives you Korean tourist maps and books, in English, and you almost start tearing up because you feel so loved.)
But mostly, I find myself laughing just because I can.
Because laughter is the best medicine.
Because I am alive.
Because life is wonderful.
Comments
Post a Comment