The Purple Sheep

I like writing. I’ve been keeping journals since my early teens. However, I don’t write blogs super often, because I have this idea in my head that writing about myself is conceited and not glorifying to God (even though I read memoirs and autobiographies all the time). So, I open word documents and start writing stories about the things I see and hear, trying to make a story that’s somewhat original, informative, entertaining, and not at all about myself. And then I get frustrated and close said word documents without ever publishing.

However, the longer I work in the ministry world, and the longer I work alongside people, especially hurting people, the more I realize the only story I have the right to tell is my own.

Because, honestly, it’s not my story anyway. It’s God’s story, and I just happen to be the main character in this particular chapter. Kind of like how Friends isn’t actually about Phoebe, but she happens to be one of the characters, and some episodes are more about her than others.

So, here we go. Cheers to vulnerability.

Guilty pleasure confession: I enjoy personality tests. Everything from the little dorky ones (I am Rapunzel, a Rebellious Punk, a Ravenclaw, and my boyfriend is Tom Hiddleston) to the more serious, “scientific” ones. As people, we long to know and be known, to understand and be understood, and to love and be loved. I think we (or at least, I) spend time clicking options and filling in bubbles on these quizzes in an attempt to be known, understood, and loved.

The first time I took the Enneagram, about a year ago, I got upset. Everyone in the room swore I was going to be a 2 – The Helper. I help, I serve, I see needs and I try to meet them, and many of the missionaries I know are 2’s. It made sense. That was the mold I wanted to fit into.

But, it’s not. I am a 5 – The Investigator. According to the test, I thrive on knowledge and learning. I need to feel competent and capable. If I don’t, I isolate myself. I have difficulty trusting people and opening up emotionally. I need people to know that I know what I am doing. I need to be independent, original, and nonconventional.

Well, that doesn’t make sense (even though it totally does). Missionaries aren’t 5’s. I read all that, and thought “NERD.” What about helping people? What about having compassion? What about faith? Do these Enneagram people even know me? Do they even know my life, the crazy stuff I’ve had to do without proper training and education? Do they understand the insane leaps of faith and trust in God I’ve had?

So, because I am a 5, I isolated myself. I felt like an incompetent missionary, because my personality type doesn’t make any logical sense for the field I’m in. It doesn’t make any logical sense for God’s calling on my life.

And then I became even more hyperaware of my other differences I perceived as weakness. Most missionaries I know are extroverts. I am very, very introverted (INFJ-A, to be exact). Being around loads of people for extended periods of time drains me. Some days, I don’t even want to talk to people. I want to sit in my room and just be alone. But the ministry field is all about God and people, and that requires listening to people, talking to people, spending time with people, and having extroverted coworkers and friends who want to spend time with you on your day off when really all you want to do is sleep past noon and have a date with a cup of coffee. Alone. In your house. Away from noise and conversation.

 

If we are part of God's flock, and missionaries are the black sheep going against the grain, I feel like the purple sheep. Not fitting in with either group.

I’ve been struggling with this. It’s a weird paradox in my head – I want to be original, and not follow the crowd. I see the problems of the world (and of the ministry world), and I don’t want to be part of that. I want to contribute something unique. But I want to fit in and be understood by my community. I want to be competent, and I’ve perceived competence as being the same as the other competent people around me. Why did God even call me to ministry if I’m not like the others who are obviously more suited for this job?

Because I have strengths where others have weaknesses. Where a 2 might see a need that needs met, I search for the deeper meaning behind the need, its roots and origin, to grasp the bigger picture and find the most effective, long-term solution. Where an extrovert might struggle sitting in silence with someone who is hurting, I am perfectly comfortable being nothing more than a presence, without filling the air with empty advice, prying questions, or unimportant chatter (not that all extroverts do that, and there definitely is a place for advice, questions, and small talk). As a 5, I love to learn, and I will gladly sit in trainings, conferences, and language classes for hours without tiring.

Even within our personality types, we are all created different, and we all have a role in this glorious design. A mentor once explained to me, “Imagine my thumbprint is God, and the tip of this pen is you.” He drew a tiny dot on his thumb. “That is your God-given identity, all your strengths and gifts. Somebody else might be this,” he drew another dot in a different place, far from the first one. “They have different strengths and gifts, but they still come from God. Or maybe some dots overlap a little, where we have similarities.” Even as a purple sheep, I have a purpose. My calling isn’t a mistake or an accident. My dot overlaps with some people, and not with others, and that’s totally okay. We are all here with the same purpose, with the same goal – to serve and glorify God.

Thanks, God, for my personality. Thank you for making me, me. Thank you for my story. I pray it continues to glorify You.



P.S. - I totally recommend taking personality tests (like the Enneagram and Myers Briggs) to learn about your strengths and weaknesses, and your dot on God's design

The Right Reasons

It’s been about two weeks since I left Africa, and I leave for Thailand in a week. I’ve been enjoying my time in the States so far. It’s been a good combination of fun, relaxation, extrovert time, and introvert time. I miss Swaziland, but I’m excited for this next season to begin.

I recently had a five-hour conversation with a man I’ve considered a mentor for the past two and a half years. He drilled me with questions about Africa and Asia in an effort to understand what I’ve been going through, and to help me process what’s been going on. He asked me what’s the hardest about leaving Swaziland. I fought tears as I described the girls, friends, church, boyfriend, and community I left behind. He smiled in his wise yet playful way, and said, “I’m glad that’s what you had, and that you left it behind. It means if you would have stayed, it may have been for the wrong reasons.”

My community in Swaziland has been so supportive about this move to Thailand, but for some reason, the way he phrased his observation was so refreshing and encouraging. I’m on the right track. Even though my reasons to stay were “good” ones – help the girls, support my friends, develop my relationship, grow the church, etc. – they weren’t the right ones. My desire is to take what I learn and experience in Thailand, and bring it back to southern Africa. My desire is to see my girls, friends, church, and boyfriend again – sooner rather than later. And that’s a very attainable goal. But is it the right one?

As I was processing this on my flight and bus ride to Wisconsin today, my mind wandered to what one of my friends and ministry partners said to a teenage girl who dearly missed her baby. The baby currently lives at a different group home (as Hosea’s Heart currently doesn’t have the facility or staff to raise infants, at least not yet), and while the mother was in deep emotional pain from not seeing her child in some time, my friend asked her, “If, for whatever reason, you never see your child again, will you still praise God and say that He is good?”

I can’t relate to a teen mom aching to see her child. But I began to ask myself the same question regarding my current situation.

If, for whatever reason, I never return to Africa, will I still praise God and say that He is good?

If I never see my girls again, will I still praise God and say that He is good?

If our four-year-old doesn’t remember me in two years, will I still praise God and say that He is good?

If I never see or do life alongside my ministry cohorts again, will I still praise God and say that He is good?

If my relationship with my boyfriend ends in turmoil, will I still praise God and say that He is good?

If my Stateside family and friends all turn against me and no longer support my life overseas, will I still praise God and say that He is good?

If I am called to return to America indefinitely, will I still praise God and say that He is good?

The more I asked myself these questions and promised God, “Yes, I will praise You and say that You are good!” the more peace overcame me on that bus ride. And then, the Spirit led me down another thought process…

When I see women being openly sold and exploited in the red-light district of Bangkok, will I praise God and say that He is good?

When I meet pimps and johns selling and purchasing girls like meat, will I praise God and say that He is good?

When I meet a girl refusing to leave her life of prostitution, will I praise God and say that He is good?

When I see a child, the age of my girls in Swaziland, trafficked across borders by her own family, will I praise God and say that He is good?

Those questions are harder to answer, and that promise is harder to make. I’ve had so many arguments with God about social injustice and the abuse of girls and women I love so much. But this I know – He sees them, hears their cries, lifts them up, and sets them free.

He upholds the cause of the oppressed

and gives food to the hungry.

The Lord sets prisoners free,

the Lord gives sight to the blind,

the Lord lifts up those who are bowed down,

the Lord loves the righteous.

The Lord watches over the foreigner

and sustains the fatherless and the widow,

but the frustrates the ways of the wicked.

Psalm 146:7-9

I will praise You, and know that You are good.




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As of July 19th, I am still $10,200 short of my fundraising goal for 18 months in Thailand. Interested in helping out? Online donations can be sent via PayPal to racheldanell@gmail.com, or contact me via email about sending checks. Thank you!

The Great Transition

Two years ago, on June 18, 2015, I moved to Manzini, Swaziland. My initial commitment was for one year, but I knew in my heart that I would be here longer. There was nothing I wanted more than to be in this place and call it “home.”

In the eyes of my community in America, I was either a hero or a madwoman for picking up everything shortly after college graduation and living halfway across the globe, without even a salary to show for it.

 “Wow, that must have been so hard! What do you miss most about home? Do you have electricity? How do you live without (insert random thing here)?! What you’re doing is so cool! Do you speak their language? I wish I could go there and do that thing!”

“You’re doing what?! And you’re not getting paid?! How are you supporting yourself? How will you find a husband? That’s really not safe. You’re going to get kidnapped/mugged/robbed/etc. What about savings? Retirement fund? Kids?”

For me, moving here was easy. I was so, SO excited. I counted the days until my plane left, a one-way ticket for adventure. Yeah, I miss certain things about America. I miss my friends and family. Sometimes, life feels lonely out here as an expat. And the transition here was full of bumps and bruises. It took a while to build a community and to feel comfortable. But overall, I know this is what I wanted, and, more importantly, this is what God wanted.

But, what do you do when God says, “Go” after you’ve already gone?

It’s a long story, but through an internet search, I found a volunteer position at a ministry in Bangkok, Thailand that basically describes exactly what I want to do here in Swaziland, except nobody does it here in Swaziland. I wanted to go check out this Thai ministry for short-term, but the minimum commitment is 18 months. And there’s so much I can learn in 18 months! I can be with people who have been doing this for years and absorb as much as possible from such a well-established ministry. I can grow even more in this new culture and see the world in a new, fresh way.

But a lot can happen in 18 months. Several of our girls will be out of the home and off to college at that point. We’ll have moved to a brand new campus at a new location. We’ll have new homes, new girls, new staff, and new missionaries. The church plant I’ve been involved in will grow. The training center will look completely different.

I submitted my application. Lord, if it’s Your will, open this door wide. If it’s not, close it shut.

Lord, prepare my heart for the news. Prepare my heart for rejection, if the door closes. Prepare my heart to go, if it opens.

One month later, I received an email. Rachel, NightLight would like to formally accept you to join our team here in Bangkok as the Assistant Outreach Coordinator…

And I cried.

My prayers were for God’s will, but my flesh wanted the door shut tight.

But I still said, yes.

Every day is a struggle. It’s a test of obedience. Here I have community, friends, and purpose. I have favorite restaurants and hangout spots. I have a regular grocery store and a routine. I don’t know anyone in Bangkok. I don’t have a routine. I don’t even know what to expect for my future there. I could cancel my ticket at any time. But that would be me shutting the door right in God’s face. And I just can’t bring my heart to do that to Him.

I’m not just picking everything up to go on my next great adventure, like some might think. Most days, I’m not even that excited about it. I know it will be amazing, and I know I will learn so much. But I will miss my girls. I will miss my friends. I will miss my church. I will miss this country.

Saying,  “yes” doesn’t bring you to a destination. It continues your journey. Swaziland isn’t my final destination – at least, not yet. It’s only a chapter in the story, just like Bangkok will be.

Hey friends! I am still in need for funds for this move to Thailand! Interested in helping out? Email me at racheldanell@gmail.com