The Cursing Missionary

I'm learning to speak, read, and write Khmer. Tension in the classroom was escalating on Tuesday as we were struggling to read a book about Du-Du learning how to tell the time. My pride got the best of me and my mind was saying "you're 30 years old, how can you not read this silly, stupid, simple kids book about telling time!"

I could feel my face get warm, my tone starting to harden, and I had to pee. It was the perfect excuse to leave the classroom and take a breather in the washroom. I went to the washroom and it was out of toilet paper. I let out a loud "F*!$ this place!" 

Riding out in the countryside, in style of course. 

I was bursting with frustration and the tension in my body was so thick that as I biked home from school I was envisioning myself as an explosive volcano, and not the beautiful picturesque volcano. I got home and let out many more curse words. I was angry, tired, frustrated, stressed, and likely a little hungry! Ok, I was downright hangry mixed with a shot of tired with a garnish of defeat.  

My ego was crushed and my perfectionism was strangling any peace in me. Thankfully, God made it quite clear that my pride was the reason for this outburst and pride does indeed cause sin.

The rest of the week was considered a win. No volcanoes or profanities. I'm a work in progress. Aren't we all?