i've been back from home for about a week. back to america, back to my life, my kids, my job, my life, my present, my reality. but what doesn't feel like my home.
it probably shouldn't be this way.
it probably should feel completely like home. it should probably all make sense now. my family together, in our home country, the part of the country where mike and i were both raised and where we met and began our lives together.
but.
last week we were home.
last week we were 8,000 miles away, on the equator, in the dry warm heat of uganda, listening to the sounds of a thousand birds wake us, resting well beneath mosquito nets, feet on cement floors, milk in bags, dirt roads and all.
home.
every night since we've been back i wake up at 3 am and in my half asleep state i worry. i feel that everything is wrong. somehow broken. somehow not right. but i can't put my finger on it. it's very disturbing when you're half asleep.
last night, i figured it out. i'm going through life here with a stone in my shoe. i'm limping. i'm not where i'm supposed to be. i'm here and i'm happy. my days are fine. things are 'good'. there is no major drama. but i'm not in my place. i'm not really doing my thing. my kids aren't doing their thing. we are place holding. we are limping. we are doing 'fine' and all is 'well'. but this is not home for us- not for our family and mike and my trip to uganda last week confirmed that.
when we arrived we were cold and pale and wrinkled and tired and our faces told the story of our limping. of the stones in our shoes. by the time we left we were sunny and smiling and our faces were again full of the life we love and know and are called into. we had been revived. we had been breathed into by the Spirit. we had received the life-giving memories of who we are and what we are to do.
i once wondered if when we got back to america all the ease and niceties would take over and we'd settle in and leaving would become to hard. i wondered if maybe uganda would be a season that had ended- if once out of sight, things would look and feel and become different.
no. not. at. all.
being there was like stepping back into my self. into my skin. it was like breathing real again.
running free.
it felt like david removing the armor that saul placed on him to fight goliath and picking up his sling shot to face the giant. he came as himself. maybe less impressive. maybe more vulnerable. but he knew all he needed was God and authenticity.
listen. can you hear it ?
it probably shouldn't be this way.
it probably should feel completely like home. it should probably all make sense now. my family together, in our home country, the part of the country where mike and i were both raised and where we met and began our lives together.
but.
last week we were home.
last week we were 8,000 miles away, on the equator, in the dry warm heat of uganda, listening to the sounds of a thousand birds wake us, resting well beneath mosquito nets, feet on cement floors, milk in bags, dirt roads and all.
home.
every night since we've been back i wake up at 3 am and in my half asleep state i worry. i feel that everything is wrong. somehow broken. somehow not right. but i can't put my finger on it. it's very disturbing when you're half asleep.
last night, i figured it out. i'm going through life here with a stone in my shoe. i'm limping. i'm not where i'm supposed to be. i'm here and i'm happy. my days are fine. things are 'good'. there is no major drama. but i'm not in my place. i'm not really doing my thing. my kids aren't doing their thing. we are place holding. we are limping. we are doing 'fine' and all is 'well'. but this is not home for us- not for our family and mike and my trip to uganda last week confirmed that.
when we arrived we were cold and pale and wrinkled and tired and our faces told the story of our limping. of the stones in our shoes. by the time we left we were sunny and smiling and our faces were again full of the life we love and know and are called into. we had been revived. we had been breathed into by the Spirit. we had received the life-giving memories of who we are and what we are to do.
i once wondered if when we got back to america all the ease and niceties would take over and we'd settle in and leaving would become to hard. i wondered if maybe uganda would be a season that had ended- if once out of sight, things would look and feel and become different.
no. not. at. all.
being there was like stepping back into my self. into my skin. it was like breathing real again.
running free.
it felt like david removing the armor that saul placed on him to fight goliath and picking up his sling shot to face the giant. he came as himself. maybe less impressive. maybe more vulnerable. but he knew all he needed was God and authenticity.
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