one way

so i have to admit, the other night, i had a moment.

it was a rather big moment and it caught me completely by surprise.  i was looking at a cd that one of our new friends had given to zoe for her birthday.  it's a kids praise cd- and several of the songs were very familiar.   i began to read through the lyrics and sing the words to the first song- ...."won't you come, won't you come and fill this place" and i just started bawling.  zoe looked at me and started to laugh.
"mom, are you happy crying or sad crying or both?"
i wasn't sure about the both, but definitely the sad crying was going on.  all of a sudden that song put me right back into our church in decatur ga.  it put me next to our good friends, friends who have prayed with us and supported us and share our vision of service.  and it put me right back in my neighborhood, in the heat of atlanta, with it's restaurants and pharmacies and coffee shops and ice cream shops and markets that have 5 different choices of chocolate chips and sugar, where the power rarely goes out and if it does someone fixes it and apologizes that you didn't have power for an hour.  it put me right back to having a glass of wine on my porch with a good friend, or going to someones house for dinner, or meeting at the pool.  and it put me right back to a culture that i know, that i understand, where people tell you if they have what you're looking for based on actual truth, not based on what they think you want to hear.  where people say "i don't know"  if they don't know, instead of giving the wrong directions to save face.  i had a moment.  and this moment bled on into the evening and i became worried.  worried that my soft heart was growing a shell, that my inclination to be cultural sensitive was expiring, and that in response i would become a republican or tattoo an american flag on my arm.

in this moment, i realized that i miss my people.  i miss my country.  i miss those shared american values that are so easily taken for granted or even criticized when you're living there.

in this moment, i realized that our return trip flight (round trip was cheaper than one way) left last week and we weren't on it.

in this moment, i became very aware that i now live in deepest, darkest africa.  this idea, this dream, this long process of getting here, has ended.  and here we are. 

and then began the questions.  and the soul searching.  and the crazy i can weave.

but the questions being asked were good ones, important ones.  and the soul was thirsty for reminders- for the big picture- for real food.  so mike and i sat, and talked and broke it down.  and we told each other that you don't end up in the middle of africa at 40 by accident. that we didn't mis-read the signs.  that hard as it all can be, or could be, or might become; God put this in our hearts, and we will walk by faith and not sight. that what matters in end is,  are we listening to that still small voice?  are we following it? are we continuing to grow in it? are we looking outward or inward?
are we caring for those in need, when the need is so great?  are we willing to? even far away, even when you miss your family, even when the roads are bad and the culture different and the electric is out most of the time?
and the answers were so clearly - yes. 
yes and what a privilege. 
yes and thank you.
yes, this is where we are to be.