When There Are No Fireworks

11:50pm on New Year’s Eve, I happened to wake up from my sleep. “Great!” I thought, “I’ll keep myself awake long enough to hear what kind of commotion happens at midnight here on the island.”

So I turned off the fan above my head, surrendering to the hot, humid tropical air. And I waited. 11:57. 11:58. … Then it was 12:02am. Nothing. Not even chatter! No shouts of joy. No PNG-style music blasting from boom boxes (Yes, boom boxes. And yes, they carry them on their shoulder haha). No Auld Lang Syne. No glasses clinking together. And no fireworks. Not even one!

After my initial surprise, I laughed to myself, then turned my fan back on, and fell quickly back asleep.

Throughout New Year’s Day, I kept wondering to myself about the silence around me, during what is for many people and cultures in the world a loud and exciting celebratory moment! And finally what I concluded is this: the lack of fireworks didn’t lessen the celebration. It didn’t change New Year’s Day to being anything but that- the very first day of the new year.  And this reminded me that my feelings may change, but the truth does not change. Fireworks tease the senses, but the reality remains the same.

Two days after New Year’s Day, we took a banana boat to town to get some supplies. It turned out that the sea was choppy, it was drizzly and windy, and the sky was gray and ominous. And in my heart I wrestled with fear and doubt! As we bounced along over dark ocean swells in our little piece of fiberglass (Noe interjects that if the boat breaks in half, both halves will float, so no worries… except the motor won’t float, so don’t hold on to the motor…), I thought back to the day we first arrived to the tribe here for our bush orientation…

The sun was glistening over the turquoise waters, rainbow fish were jumping and singing (ok that part maybe isn’t true), the sea was as calm as a lake, and we glided along, as if in a tropical paradise, and my heart felt at rest, excited for the ministry He has for us.

The harsher reality of the stormy day reminds me that God is the same God – sparkling sunshine or stormy seas. His heart for the unreached and His plan to reach them through His Church do not change when there are no fireworks. And let me tell you, there are often no fireworks. (I know, I didn’t have to tell you.)

I think sometimes we get the illusion that missionary life is ‘romantic’ – the travel! The new language and culture! The exciting lifestyle! The beautiful babies! But the reality is – travel is stressful. Learning a new language and culture is taxing and often embarrassing (like the time I told some ladies “Sure, I’ll wash you while you play basketball!”). The novelty of a new lifestyle wears out quickly, and routine is just as routine as anyone’s. The babies – well yes they are beautiful, but scrubbing all the who-knows-what off of your clothes at the end of the day isn’t quite as attractive. No fireworks here.

Just next to the house we’re staying in is a haus kuk (a simple shelter where people will make a fire to cook food). Some of the children who live close by have decided this haus kuk is a great place to hang out and make lots of noise. All day, every day! While this is great fun for our girls, it makes the elements of our day very interesting – whether we are trying to study Tok Pisin, or have a language session, or rest. (No fireworks here either.) We call this a definite opportunity to be stretched. J

And as I pick up my broom for the 5^th time each afternoon, and sweep the sand out of the house, I think of fellow moms and friends who battle the mundane every day. And I am no different. Sometimes it seems different, maybe because I boarded a huge airplane and plopped myself down on that type of remote island that we always joke about being stranded on, and am removed from a lifestyle of constancy and matching dishes. But my days still look surprisingly ‘mundane’ and non-fireworky (Yes, I’m sure that’s a thing. Just like “Stress-paralyzed”…). And I wrestle with it just the same. Sometimes I just want fireworks! (And sometimes my kids drive me so crazy that I’m tempted to make some fireworks of my own!) Sometimes I want “big” moments, and sometimes I want applause. But the life that aims to live for the glory of Christ finds a different goal and experience.

I read 1 Thessalonians 4.11-12:

“Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody.”

And 2 Thessalonians 3.8-9.

“…we worked night and day, laboring and toiling so that we would not be a burden to any of you. We did this, not because we do not have the right to such help, but in order to make ourselves a model for you to follow.”

The mundane and non-fireworky ‘silence’ of our lives by no means lessens the moment or changes His incredible desire for you and for me to know Him and walk in Him. On the contrary – our faithfulness in the silence strengthens the power and brightness of the fireworks. The many nights of silence contribute a stunning magnificence to the moment a firework bursts in the sky! In the same way, the gentleness and quietness of our lives creates a platform for the King of Glory to be exalted through us. The life we live and work out each and every day is an opportunity to model the perfect love and servanthood of Christ. We model it to ourselves as we fight our own grumpiness (or is that just me?). We model it to our spouse. To our whining, arguing toddlers. To our children who ‘just can’t take’ another day of schoolwork. To our friends. To our family. To unbelievers. To new believers. To all. We sweep on, again and again, when there are no fireworks. And we smile big when there is one! We sweep in the sunshine, and we sweep during the storm. We sweep because we joyfully anticipate the day when HE will “walk through our door”. We sweep because of this incredible hope that we have in Him.

And we lie down at night, soak in the silence, and smile. We laugh to ourselves, turn on the fan, and fall quickly asleep so we can wake again tomorrow and do it all over again. And this? This is glorious work! Maybe there are fireworks…