"What to do?"
It's one of my favorite phrases around here, along with "Like that only." Basically, when you say, "What to do?" you are throwing the responsibility back onto the other person. The store owner has no change. I say "What to do?" and he goes and finds change (or dishes out the equivalent in candy...that's another blog post entirely!). But, it sounds a whole lot nicer than, "So, what are you gonna do about it, buddy?!"
This is not, however, the phrase I wanted to hear from the police after I reported my stolen car. It was my birthday, early morning. I had driven to the gym, worked out and then found the place I had parallel parked...empty. Was it towed? Is this a birthday prank? So, I hailed an auto and went to the nearest police station. I was carrying my yoga mat and covered with sweat. Already feeling more foreign than the obvious.
The police will not speak anything but the local dialect, even though they can. It's a power play, and I felt it full force. My friend came with me and translated. That didn't do much except alert me to the fact that officer that handles this will be in at noon. Or two. Or tomorrow. What to do?
Now, I will not give you a full account of our dealings with forms and detectives; but trust me when I say I have never felt so powerless as this. When my kids are sick, I feel it. When I can't find something I misplaced, I feel it. When uncertainty is looming, I feel it. And yet, this feels different. I feel so much more foreign. I thought I understood the system, and I don't. I want justice and see no way of attaining it. I want to be seen as a competent, independent and in-control resident of this city.
Over the past few weeks, I've gotten defensive with friends who've listed out well-intentioned "should have's". I realize, it's not so easy to admit our car is gone, but it's even harder to admit I don't have it all together. My car being stolen is not really my fault. And if it's not my fault, then what to do? Who gets the onus? Who has the power to make things right?
I don't think we will get the car back again. Let's be realistic. But does my realism squash me into cowardly despair? No. That's rather silly isn't it? No one likes a coward...obviously not even the coward herself. My faith is not in God's promise to bring back my car but His promise to be with me and do what is best for my joy and his glory. How can I despair with a God like that?
On the other hand, do I sing along with Kelly Clarkston, "what doesn't kill me, makes me stronger!"? No. That's even sillier. Let's face it, what doesn't kill you usually makes you weaker. We lost money, ability to serve others, safety, time and efficiency, etc. We are weaker in many ways without a car. So, I do not proclaim a victory chant to cover up my blues. I see my defensiveness and frustration and sadness and powerlessness...and know it's okay to be weak. His power is made perfect in my weakness.
Realistically, I look to the One who has ALL the power (and knows me fully and loves me deeply) and say trustingly, expectantly and hopefully, "What to do?".
It's one of my favorite phrases around here, along with "Like that only." Basically, when you say, "What to do?" you are throwing the responsibility back onto the other person. The store owner has no change. I say "What to do?" and he goes and finds change (or dishes out the equivalent in candy...that's another blog post entirely!). But, it sounds a whole lot nicer than, "So, what are you gonna do about it, buddy?!"
This is not, however, the phrase I wanted to hear from the police after I reported my stolen car. It was my birthday, early morning. I had driven to the gym, worked out and then found the place I had parallel parked...empty. Was it towed? Is this a birthday prank? So, I hailed an auto and went to the nearest police station. I was carrying my yoga mat and covered with sweat. Already feeling more foreign than the obvious.
The police will not speak anything but the local dialect, even though they can. It's a power play, and I felt it full force. My friend came with me and translated. That didn't do much except alert me to the fact that officer that handles this will be in at noon. Or two. Or tomorrow. What to do?
Now, I will not give you a full account of our dealings with forms and detectives; but trust me when I say I have never felt so powerless as this. When my kids are sick, I feel it. When I can't find something I misplaced, I feel it. When uncertainty is looming, I feel it. And yet, this feels different. I feel so much more foreign. I thought I understood the system, and I don't. I want justice and see no way of attaining it. I want to be seen as a competent, independent and in-control resident of this city.Over the past few weeks, I've gotten defensive with friends who've listed out well-intentioned "should have's". I realize, it's not so easy to admit our car is gone, but it's even harder to admit I don't have it all together. My car being stolen is not really my fault. And if it's not my fault, then what to do? Who gets the onus? Who has the power to make things right?
I don't think we will get the car back again. Let's be realistic. But does my realism squash me into cowardly despair? No. That's rather silly isn't it? No one likes a coward...obviously not even the coward herself. My faith is not in God's promise to bring back my car but His promise to be with me and do what is best for my joy and his glory. How can I despair with a God like that?
On the other hand, do I sing along with Kelly Clarkston, "what doesn't kill me, makes me stronger!"? No. That's even sillier. Let's face it, what doesn't kill you usually makes you weaker. We lost money, ability to serve others, safety, time and efficiency, etc. We are weaker in many ways without a car. So, I do not proclaim a victory chant to cover up my blues. I see my defensiveness and frustration and sadness and powerlessness...and know it's okay to be weak. His power is made perfect in my weakness.
Realistically, I look to the One who has ALL the power (and knows me fully and loves me deeply) and say trustingly, expectantly and hopefully, "What to do?".
A sad note Mandy. We grieve with you. The system here is bad. Police didn't help us in two such occasions in the past in Delhi. In another occasion the police helped a Chinese family friend after I highlighted to the officers about their "connections" with the embassy and after the local police got pressure from the higherups! This proved they knew the thieves. Since I initially complained to the police, I got calls from media, The Times of India. I had to control to myself, my knowledge about the probable thief, which one of the constsbles hinted at to his boss. I had to keep calm because whistle blowers aren't safe in India. Mandy, God allowed this happen . As this is in His knowledge, pour out your anxieties to Him and find comfort in Him alone. Sorry for all my preaching kinda stuff. We worry with you.
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