Snickers- No Laughing Matter

Yesterday was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. I'll spare you the details but I will say that crying in the coffee shop or choking down tears on the bus ride home is very unafrican. I have been reminded that everyone faces discouragement but the complicated part of being a missionary is that you have the challenge of recreating your support system. You have taken yourself away from family and friends, who would be great on a bad day, and now must cope without them, as we said at camp you must 'buck-up camper'. So I tried my very best to put on a good face as I ran errands in town. The honeymoon stage has definitely worn off, the things that were super exciting at the beginning of the trip have now become usual, maybe even a little old. The things that were minor annoyances at the beginning are still annoying three months later. I was trying to push through the day without letting the bitterness sink in. I'm angry that as I walk from one shop to the next there are little childern who speak to me in French telling me they are hungry and begging me for food, for money, for attention. I'm not angry at the little child but I'm angry that I live in a world where injustice is common. I'm angry that the child has to grow up in a world where begging is 'normal' for him. I'm angry that I can't do more, that even if I gave him some food or some money it is just treating the symptom and will not change him. I walked on, past the Burundians who are still curious about my skin color and my smile or the fact I greet them in Kirundi. I wonder why some days are better than others and why I can't just skip the hard ones. In my wondering and my processing of the injustices of the world a man catches up to me, matching his stride with mine and asks me to buy something from him. In typical downtown Buja style I glance at what he is selling, trying not to seem too interested for fear he will raise the price. I was so delighted to see that he was selling candy bars. It's very typical to see people selling fruit, veggies, cheap goods dollar store style or handmade baskets but candy bars? This was a first for me. And it gets better, not just any candy bar but Snickers- my favorite! I asked him about the price, all my attempts of trying to act uninterested flew out the door. We agreed on a price, so low I bought two. As we parted ways Rachel reminded me that as unusual as that was it had to be the hand of God, it wasn't a miracle but clearly God had seen my tears in the coffee shop and was showing me love in the form of a candy bar. I walked away a bit lighter than I had started, still frustrated at the injustice of the world but a bit of hope had been restored, if God loves me enough to care about small things like candy bars then I'm sure he loves Burundi, and Bujumbura, and the hungry children more that I hurt for them and has not forgotten them.