this rainy season is very rainy. i'm thankful for the darkened sky and the sound of heaviness releasing. it feels more right as the season of advent approaches.
the rain brings me stillness. because it makes me sit still. it cuts off other noises. it somehow makes me feel safe (well at least when i'm inside my house and during daylight). right now it's so loud i can barely hear the avett brothers singing. it sounds like being under a breaking wave in the ocean- that loud ssshhwwwooooosshhhing sound.
this next month will be strange. it's the beginning of my favorite time. christmas time. anticipation, waiting, little lights in darkness, sweetness, kindness, songs, red and green m+m's, snowflakes, shiny things, glitter, candles, reflection, a star, an arrival, The gift, a new beginning. it will be strange because the days will be getting hotter and dryer and sunnier. it will be strange because mike will be away for half of it, he will be half way across the world at our old home, and i will be only half here without him.
he will go back for the first time since we moved, but he will experience 're-entry' alone. he will eat a 'yeah burger with bacon sauce' with out me, he will have a drink at leon's service station in decatur with out me. he will eat bocorones at krog bar with out me. he will see his family with out me. he will hang out with my brother with out me. he will see all the new and clean and massive of america with different eyes, with out me.
and. i. will. miss. him. so. much.
the crazy thing is that i'm okay with staying behind. we have the gift of rosie, who isn't able to travel with us yet, and she is worth staying for. and in the ups and downs of life in africa, i'm feeling in an "up". and in a life far away from what has always been normal, i'm finding a new normal. a normal that i love, and after a year and a half almost, i'm finally beginning to understand the language.
this weekend in luwero i had a moment. i was leaning over a very sick man who was lying on a colorful woven mat on the floor. he had just found out that he was HIV positive, but he was feeling too sick to care. an old sheet hung blocking the doorway while i examined him. i knelt on the floor in my skirt, feeling the pebbles from the dirt and cement under my knees. the walls were chipped and cracked and i looked down at my pale hands on his dark stomach and felt fully at peace. i knew i was where was meant to be. i knew there was no where else i wanted to be. i knew that this is where i am called. that buechner was right:
"The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”
because this is my deep gladness. and there is nothing more satisfying, more peace-giving than being where God wants you.
so i will hold down the fort. i will eagerly await mikes return. i will long for his stories about how it felt to be back at the house he grew up in, and what it was like to see old friends and meet their new babies, and how good a dunkin' donut tasted, and what it felt like to see the cold new england ocean again.
now the sun is bright and hot again. the sky is blue and far away and the air is filled with singing birds. it feels like summertime.
the rain brings me stillness. because it makes me sit still. it cuts off other noises. it somehow makes me feel safe (well at least when i'm inside my house and during daylight). right now it's so loud i can barely hear the avett brothers singing. it sounds like being under a breaking wave in the ocean- that loud ssshhwwwooooosshhhing sound.
this next month will be strange. it's the beginning of my favorite time. christmas time. anticipation, waiting, little lights in darkness, sweetness, kindness, songs, red and green m+m's, snowflakes, shiny things, glitter, candles, reflection, a star, an arrival, The gift, a new beginning. it will be strange because the days will be getting hotter and dryer and sunnier. it will be strange because mike will be away for half of it, he will be half way across the world at our old home, and i will be only half here without him.
he will go back for the first time since we moved, but he will experience 're-entry' alone. he will eat a 'yeah burger with bacon sauce' with out me, he will have a drink at leon's service station in decatur with out me. he will eat bocorones at krog bar with out me. he will see his family with out me. he will hang out with my brother with out me. he will see all the new and clean and massive of america with different eyes, with out me.
and. i. will. miss. him. so. much.
the crazy thing is that i'm okay with staying behind. we have the gift of rosie, who isn't able to travel with us yet, and she is worth staying for. and in the ups and downs of life in africa, i'm feeling in an "up". and in a life far away from what has always been normal, i'm finding a new normal. a normal that i love, and after a year and a half almost, i'm finally beginning to understand the language.
this weekend in luwero i had a moment. i was leaning over a very sick man who was lying on a colorful woven mat on the floor. he had just found out that he was HIV positive, but he was feeling too sick to care. an old sheet hung blocking the doorway while i examined him. i knelt on the floor in my skirt, feeling the pebbles from the dirt and cement under my knees. the walls were chipped and cracked and i looked down at my pale hands on his dark stomach and felt fully at peace. i knew i was where was meant to be. i knew there was no where else i wanted to be. i knew that this is where i am called. that buechner was right:
"The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”
because this is my deep gladness. and there is nothing more satisfying, more peace-giving than being where God wants you.
so i will hold down the fort. i will eagerly await mikes return. i will long for his stories about how it felt to be back at the house he grew up in, and what it was like to see old friends and meet their new babies, and how good a dunkin' donut tasted, and what it felt like to see the cold new england ocean again.
now the sun is bright and hot again. the sky is blue and far away and the air is filled with singing birds. it feels like summertime.
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