Our arrival in Dushanbe, Tajikistan on Thanksgiving Day 1996 came and went quite uneventfully. A small beginning. Two single colleagues, Mike and Dave, met us at the airport to help collect our luggage and speed us away to the little two room apartment which would become our temporary home. They invited us to accompany them to a Thanksgiving dinner hosted by the American Embassy that evening. We declined, jet lagged and exhausted from the long journey and not in the mood to say anymore hellos just yet.
We did greet a little mouse who had taken up residence in our apartment. The goodbye would follow a few days later, upon successfully securing a mouse trap and some cheese. We were also greeted by the government tanks which patrolled up and down the main street just outside our window. We learned they were “protecting” their citizens from opposition forces. Why did that not feel comforting?
Hunger eventually set in. It was time to bravely explore our new little world outside our apartment building. We thought about what we had missed, having chosen not to attend the Thanksgiving feast hosted by our friends at the U.S. Embassy. That was one of the few times we would be invited to share a meal which our tax dollars had helped to put on the table. We eventually learned that they always imported big, juicy Butterball turkeys from the U.S. for this special occasion. That was a hello we probably should have taken advantage of!
We ventured outside and located a little shop where we discovered some ramen instant noodles. Just add hot water! We ate our humble meal, just the three of us, accompanied by our unwelcomed roommate, the mouse. A wave of gratitude did not sweep over me in that moment.
As I reflect on our first day in Tajikistan as a family, it represents something of a small beginning. God has something to say about small beginnings:
“Who dares despise the day of small things...”
For this family of three, the broader context of our small beginning was a significant life/work transition. It was a big dive, jumping off into the turbulent waters of this volatile, war-torn land. Our entry, however, lacked any big splash. We quietly slipped in while people were going through their daily routines, many struggling to survive another day. In olympic diving competition, less splash translates into a winning score. We would have a long wait before the results started coming in. For now, the looming question would be, “Can we tread water?”
How are you feeling about your small beginning and the transition journey which has brought you to this place? If you feel like you're barely treading water, you're not alone. Small beginnings can be like that. They can also be pretty lonely in those pre-community, pre-friends, I-don't-feel-life-has-purpose days. Thankfully, God offers hope through small beginnings.
“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”
He notices. He cares. And He can be fully trusted.
Have you recently executed a quiet entry into a new setting?