I’m new to this whole missionary gig and so far it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. My back hurts from the plywood bed. My stomach grumbles as it adjusts to the new foods, water, and routine. My hair is oily from the less than clean water I “wash” it in every other day. My living room wallpaper is such an onslaught of patterns, my head hurts when I walk in there. I spend too much time on Instagram missing my friends because it’s too rainy this week to go make new friends with my caveman version of the local language. I barely want to pick up my Bible because my mind feels so overwhelmed with learning a new language that it could explode even from reading a familiar language. And I’m lonely.