i'm back. and i love it.
back in africa. the heat. the dust. the broken. the beauty. green and lush but dry and red and hazy. the burning smell. the sounds of birds and wind in leaves and people. my senses are always full.
this is the first day i have had for stillness and i am deeply thankful. to be quiet and alone. there hasn't been time for this, or space. it's been movement and busy and many things- and maybe i haven't let myself sit and be. or maybe i forgot. then this morning was my women's group and someone put on some music and we had a time of mediation for 5 minutes. i closed my eyes and my mind ran right off to the northern california coastal trails as if it had been waiting for me to let it go there. i was having this vision of zoe as a little girl. and as we walked the trails in the bright sunlight she grew up and ran but in this vision she wasn't autistic. she didn't have scoliosis, or klippel-feil syndrome. in the end she was a neuro-typical 20 year old zoe running on the hills above the pacific ocean. i started to cry and to miss her and i wondered where this vision came from because i'd never had it before. since the song was ending and we were about to wrap up the group, i pulled it together and noted that these feelings needed tending.
as i return to them now, the feelings are ones of longing and gratitude.
longing is a yearning for. it's desiring something that has been lost or gone missing. i think that longing is all wrapped up in zoe. and it's complicated. i love her so deeply. as she is. she is so special and unique. i long to be with her. to have her here with me. but i know she is doing better where she is now. that vision also represents a grieving. the lost normal. the gone missing perception of how much easier all this figuring out life overseas would be with a neuro-typical 20 year old who was midway through college. the tears were for the truth of the struggle. the missing her. the guilt that pokes it's head around the corner and smirks at me. the wondering if it will ever get lighter? feel freer? will the longing go?
there is also gratitude.
deep gratitude for the lightness that has come. for where zoe is and how she is doing. for the privilege and provision of that. for being able to see her face on the phone at night and hear here laugh. for being here again. for meaningful work and impact and to be able to hit the ground running. for a God whose promises are true. for the flowers in my garden and my children's laughter on the trampoline.
so as we settle in, amidst the business of work and life here, i will try to find these spaces to sit and be still and quiet my mind. let it out for a walk, listen to what needs tending.
back in africa. the heat. the dust. the broken. the beauty. green and lush but dry and red and hazy. the burning smell. the sounds of birds and wind in leaves and people. my senses are always full.
this is the first day i have had for stillness and i am deeply thankful. to be quiet and alone. there hasn't been time for this, or space. it's been movement and busy and many things- and maybe i haven't let myself sit and be. or maybe i forgot. then this morning was my women's group and someone put on some music and we had a time of mediation for 5 minutes. i closed my eyes and my mind ran right off to the northern california coastal trails as if it had been waiting for me to let it go there. i was having this vision of zoe as a little girl. and as we walked the trails in the bright sunlight she grew up and ran but in this vision she wasn't autistic. she didn't have scoliosis, or klippel-feil syndrome. in the end she was a neuro-typical 20 year old zoe running on the hills above the pacific ocean. i started to cry and to miss her and i wondered where this vision came from because i'd never had it before. since the song was ending and we were about to wrap up the group, i pulled it together and noted that these feelings needed tending.
as i return to them now, the feelings are ones of longing and gratitude.
longing is a yearning for. it's desiring something that has been lost or gone missing. i think that longing is all wrapped up in zoe. and it's complicated. i love her so deeply. as she is. she is so special and unique. i long to be with her. to have her here with me. but i know she is doing better where she is now. that vision also represents a grieving. the lost normal. the gone missing perception of how much easier all this figuring out life overseas would be with a neuro-typical 20 year old who was midway through college. the tears were for the truth of the struggle. the missing her. the guilt that pokes it's head around the corner and smirks at me. the wondering if it will ever get lighter? feel freer? will the longing go?
there is also gratitude.
deep gratitude for the lightness that has come. for where zoe is and how she is doing. for the privilege and provision of that. for being able to see her face on the phone at night and hear here laugh. for being here again. for meaningful work and impact and to be able to hit the ground running. for a God whose promises are true. for the flowers in my garden and my children's laughter on the trampoline.
so as we settle in, amidst the business of work and life here, i will try to find these spaces to sit and be still and quiet my mind. let it out for a walk, listen to what needs tending.
