The Hero and I have been home from Ethiopia for a month now.
There are days it feels like ten years.
Others, I can still feel the African dirt inside my sandals.
Re-entry is always challenging.
Processing the experiences while being bombarded with the disparity of here vs. there.
Ethiopia is always beautifully tragic for me, but in some ways it is easy.
I feel at home. Helping people is not a "good deed for the day."
For me, coming home is hardest.
I struggle with how to mesh the woman I am on one continent,
with the one I'm expected to be on another.
I've spent my fair share of days sobbing in the shower,
crying out for God to make beauty from the ashes in my heart.
I've struggled with patience with family members,
co-workers and friends.
But I've struggled the most with The Angel and The Dinosaur.
Being around so many children who have nothing,
it is easy to lose my patience with two who have everything.
Toast with just enough jam,
strawberry oatmeal instead of peach,
and huffs if their favorite dessert doesn't follow dinner.
But I've also noticed that it has given The Hero and I opportunity
to have some discussions with our kids that we didn't have before this trip.
While I want my children to know that they are the center of my universe,
I need them to understand that they are not the center of the universe.
There are days I yearn for the simplicity of Ethiopia, but I am learning
that sometimes the hardest part is to continue to be a light where we are:
in the car pool line,
at the grocery store,
at The Angel's soccer games with ridiculous, screaming parents.
Some days are harder than others.
Some days I feel like I'm not a light, but a stubbed out candle without a wick.
But He is faithful.
Always.
When I think I'm at my breaking point, He fills me up.
And there are days I'm sure I exhaust Him with my requests.
Again, Father. Again.
Yep. There are days I long for Ethiopia.
But I am learning that He has a plan for me here and I am
reminded often that His plan involves an Angel and a Dinosaur
and how the intertwining of our lives with continuously glorify Him.
It's not about our geography, it's the location of our hearts.
2 comments:
Thank you!
Thank you for this post. When I cry out to God these days, wondering "why me" I think about things you've described seeing....kids LIVING in trash dumps. I don't feel quite so "Job"like, I feel blessed. Blessed is a great thing to feel when you've lost someone so special. So thank you friend for your heart. God is using it to heal mine.
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