Surviving Community, Somehow

A bookworm, a social butterfly, and a nerd walk into missionary training together.

It sounds like the opening to a bad joke. Instead, it’s an over-simplified description of how my normal, nine-to-five life was doused in freezing water, thrown into the dryer cycle, and then sent forth to go and make disciples of all nations.

I’m the bookworm in this analogy, by the way: Faith Lewis, twenty years old, oldest of ten children, homeschooled, extreme introvert. At least, my friend Leeann (the nerd) dubbed my introversion extreme. And I suppose that since the idea of calling someone on the phone is almost enough to send me into cardiac arrest, she might have a point.

The social butterfly is another homeschooler from a big family, but we’re hardly a copy-paste of each other. Madelyn Weaver is the golden retriever to my cat. While I’d rather be curled up napping in my own home, I think she’d spend every moment, 24/7, 365-days-a-year with other people if she could. This is my worst nightmare, but Madelyn is a “people person” in the truest sense of the phrase. She makes friends at the drop of a hat, and is one of the most loyal, kindest people you’ll ever meet, so much so that her only enemy is gluten.

Leeann Graff completes our trio. Not homeschooled and not from a big family, she’s the experienced, level-headed scientist needed to keep Madelyn and I from either stepping out in front of traffic or endlessly over-thinking everything. She’s blunt, smart, terrified of snakes, and a drinker of tea. She’s also super old (27!) yet still spry and loves hiking. (Whereas my asthma sneaks up on me like a trench fighter and tries to kill me when given the opportunity.)

If you’re reading this and thinking, “Wow, y’all are such a diverse group! How is your team still intact?” You’re right! We are very different. While people say things like, “It’s our differences that make us strong” and other such sickly-sweet greeting card taglines, I’m sure we’ve all experienced having to work with people whose critical thinking processes might as well be spelled out in ancient Sumerian. Let me give you an example.

Leeann, Madelyn, and I encounter a problem. Whatever that problem may be, I’ve made an observation that is true nine times out of ten:

If it’s a person who is asking us for something, Madelyn will pray with and listen attentively to that person’s life story. If an inanimate object is having or giving us trouble, Madelyn will pray over, for, or about said object. She will also check and double-check every possible outcome to be sure she’s making the right decision.

Leeann, in the meantime, will come up with a practical, common-sense solution. This will take her maybe ten seconds. She will then be given part of her purgatory to suffer through here on earth as she waits for Madelyn to come to the same conclusion.

Meanwhile, Faith will watch the two like it’s a ping-pong match, defer to whoever’s in charge because of chronic people-pleasery, and when forced to give an opinion, will probably land somewhere in the middle of the two (assuming she was paying attention and doesn’t need a recap of the entire situation).

This, in a nutshell, is what an hour in the life of our team looks like. And when we’re not helping someone else (or ourselves) through an urgent situation? You can usually find me writing, reading, creating art, or reluctantly doing admin work. Madelyn can sometimes be found in the house playing guitar or crocheting, but is just as likely to be out and about, interacting with the (shudder) real world. Leeann will be managing finances and doing other leader-ly things, exercising while listening to podcasts, or grimly battling the mosquitos on our front porch for dominance.

And yet, we spend a lot of time together, too. Some of it isn’t really a choice. When you share a two-bedroom house with two other people, you’re bound to run into them. Especially when you’re doing ministry work together, and the missionary company you work for calls for teams to have a “Singles’ Fun Day” once a week. So we cook together and around each other. We have family movie nights. We listen to each other’s phone conversations, know way too much about each other’s families, and hold entire conversations while one person is in the shower, one in bed, and the other in the kitchen.

Considering all of our differences and how much our diverse personalities are forced to work and live alongside each other, we get along better than I ever would have thought possible. Sure, there’s the occasional disagreement, and we all do things that get on each other’s nerves. I leave important things (like laptops) in non-secure locations (like ice-cream shops) and tend to whistle the national anthem on loop. Leeann snores and says “pera” (pear) instead of “para” (for) when speaking Spanish. Madelyn often has to be dragged away from social events by the ankles.

And yet, we actually get along together quite well. Science is still confused by this phenomenon. Are we bonded from the multiple cultural upheavals we’ve gone through? Is it that Madelyn and I are used to dealing with strange and annoying people because of all our siblings, and that Leeann is simply suffering on the inside?

Or maybe it’s something crazy like, “Christian charity” or, “the love of Christ” or perhaps “the Holy Spirit.” Hmm. Food for thought.

All that to say, this is my mission team, and I love being a part of it—warts and all.