extremes

it's thundering so loudly that i think God might be coming.  the last bolt sent me flying inside- but i'm back again, in the rain, on the porch amazed by the drama of it- the power- the intensity- it's shouting out and pouring down the extremes.


as best i can tell, my original nuclear family- the one that started me out, are all together in the mountains of north carolina.  i can see the fog rising off the lake, people reading on couches, the leaves full and lush.  i can smell barbeque chicken on the grill and butter melting over corn on the cob.  i can hear my nephews laughing, a distant motor boat, a catching-up conversation.  i can feel that hot southern summer sun, the air noisily rushing by us as the boat jumps on the lake, and the cool leather of the sofa as everyone is gathered watching the olympics together. i can see the people that i love so so much all in one small space- and i begin to feel that deep longing.

this is when i feel far away. and homesick and achy.  this is when that question, that must live somewhere inside most of us who choose to live abroad, rides up to the surface-
'wait, what are we doing here?'


this, while i'm living with ebola killing 14 as the news headline.  while i'm receiving emails from the embassy about possible terrorist plots in the next few weeks. 

there is irony in the timing of these extremes- the safety and joy of being surrounded by family in the beauty of that mountain house- the unsettling possibility of deadly hemorrhagic fevers and bombs.

it's these times when those usually easily ignored questions reappear - 
'why did we move?  why did we deviate from normal? what was wrong with good jobs and safe shopping malls and free good public schools and living in the same town as family?'

and when the africa-ness of africa rears her head- the other questions come flooding out too- 
'why do you live somewhere that most people are trying to leave?  why, where there are black mambas in your yard, and horrid infections that they make movies about?  why live in a place were there is no blood in the blood bank, and no gloves in the clinics, or doctors for that matter, or MRI machines or medicines and even when you can buy medications, they are often no good?  why do you live in a place with bad water, malaria, bilharzia, and broken down roads or no roads? why did you leave well working for broken? beautiful and trimmed for dirty, mangy and trash covered?'

be still.
be still and know.
be still and know that I AM.


i am in north carolina with the people that you and i love.  i am in africa where you are with the other people that you and i love. you don't see the world as i do- don't be fooled by tidy and trimmed- everywhere there is broken.  don't fear ebola, fear not being where you should be.  fear missing out on the transformation into beautiful. don't run from dirty, run from the possibility of missing out on the adventures i have for you.  

right.  yes.  true.  because this is where we are supposed to be right now.  because asking those tucked away questions is okay.  because missing people who you love is so normal, as is missing systems that work well, and good roads, as is not wanting to relive the movie outbreak.

so. the storm has stopped. i can hear the last rain falling, i can smell the earth, i can see the other people who i love so much, the ones who are starting out with me, here. i can hear their laughter. there is power and intensity and the one who made it all walks here too. we are here- in one small space, and i have that deep joy.