The "bush"

Life in the “bush” … it strikes me as strange that a good portion of the men I talk to here who have been involved with missions have this desire to live in the bush somewhere, where there’s no running water and the nearest shopping mall is miles and miles away with a movie theater that consists of two screens the size of our big screen tvs back in the States, showing pirated movies. May God bless the women who eventually marry them.

For me, I know that I’m not called to the bush. If God were to ask me to move to the bush of Africa (or the bush of the Amazon, for that matter), I think it would spark another two years of trying to negotiate with Him. I’m a suburban kinda girl, who likes to be able to escape the busyness of city life by hiking a mountain or camping in a national park for the weekend. I enjoy grocery stores that sell a variety of nice cheeses, good food at nice restaurants, bookstores, sterile doctor’s offices and that lovely modern invention called electricity.

Okay, okay, I have to admit – the bush is kind of stimulating for a while. To “rough it” knowing that I’m eventually heading back to hot showers and washing machines can be fun. You get to see just what you’re made of and appreciate the everyday things we take for granted. I just don’t know if I can follow a husband down that road for long periods of time. We might have to resort to the two separate households arrangement.

I wonder if I’m capable of more than I’m giving myself credit for? God made me, after all, and who knows better what I’m able to endure? I have to be honest and say that I don’t really want to endure … I want to enjoy! Looks like I’d better hone in on those boys who enjoy the suburban side of missions.