So. As you can see by the title, there is less than a week until we go home. Home. Coming Home. Remember that blog? More than a year ago? It's funny how I refer to both here and the States as home. It's true. Anywhere you stay for an extended period of time you're going to put down roots, grow attached to the people, the places, everything there, and it becomes home to you.
I am beyond excited to be with all of you, to hug you and go to movies with you and eat with you and spend time with you. There are so many things I want to do, and I am ready to be HOME.
I'm very, very curious to observe how much I miss being here while I'm in the States. The past couple months God has been laying on all of our hearts a strong possibility of staying here longer than our two year commitment, and perhaps this time at home will be a 'test run' of sorts. It's only two months and it'll basically just be a long vacation, so I might not even have a chance to miss Swaziland, with everything going on.
I guess I just wanted to say hi to you all before I have the actual opportunity to say it out loud, to your face, and accompany it with big hug. I'm ticking off the hours and days on my fingers and am almost constantly smiling. I love you all.
Pray for me.
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Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Obedience
I’ve had a crazy weekend of hanging out with new people. It’s been amazing. By far my favorite part of living here in Swazi is meeting new people and getting to know them. It’s such an amazing opportunity. It’s like God is saying, ‘You have no friends? Pshhh, here, take your pick!’. Such a blessing. He is an amazing God.
Some amazing people I’ve gotten to hang out with are the World Race team that is here. I feel like I’ve told most of you what the World Race is, and have talked about it in other blogs, so, if you don’t know what it is, look it up.
This team is all girls, all amazing, mature, kind young women. The first night I met them, a couple of weeks ago, they asked me if I would go up to the crafts market in Manzini with them the next Saturday. I said, sure!
I had done it before with a World Race team, acting as a sort of tour guide for them around the ‘big city’. Minus the big.
Manzini is always insane, and we had an insane day, but it was great. I got to know them better and had a great time just hanging out with them.
Apparently, in God’s eyes, Manzini, and, specifically, Manzini buses, are also a great place to teach spiritual lessons…J
When we had first gotten on the bus, we sat there for like 45 minutes waiting for it to fill up. That was a 45 minutes spent baking in the blazing African sun, being crowded together with lots of sweaty Swazis, and tuning out the piercing BEEEEEEEP of the bus’ horn as the bus driver tried to get out of the bus rank.
By the time we got on the road, finally, I was pretty miserable.
And that’s when God decided to test my obedience to him.
Yeahhh, His timing is usually impeccable.
I was sitting here in the window seat, SOAKED in my own sweat, and probably a little bit of the lady’s next to me, blasting my ipod in a desperate effort to tune out the screaming of everyone at the bus rank, the honking of the extremely obnoxious horn, and the yelling of some guy on the bus trying to sell candy, and not too happy, when God points out the little girl standing in the aisle next to my seat.
I had bought two beaded wrap-around type wire bracelets at the market that day, and was pretty happy with them--especially since they matched my outfit…J
I had been playing with the bracelets, wrapping them and unwrapping them from my wrist absentmindedly, when I saw the little girl eyeing them.
God said to me:
‘I want you to give one of your bracelets to that little girl.’
Now here’s what get’s me. God treasures me so much that he (a) gives me a choice…what bracelet will I give to her, and (b) says I only have to give away one. He’s such an amazing Father!
Right away, I thought, ‘No! I just got this bracelet, it matches my outfit, and this girl is absolutely fine, I mean, she had enough money to ride this bus, right? She isn’t suffering too bad.’ Yeah. I know; pathetic. But it was my thought process in the moment.
This went on for a little while in my head, me going back and forth, back and forth…to give the little girl the bracelet, or not.
Eventually, I came to my senses and thought ‘Would I rather NOT have this bracelet, or NOT have the guilt attached TO that bracelet every time I looked at it, thinking, ‘I didn’t obey God and give this away to that little girl.’’ So, I slowly unwrapped the white one from my arm, and wrapped it around her wrist.
She was beaming for the rest of the bus ride.
And so was I.
Some amazing people I’ve gotten to hang out with are the World Race team that is here. I feel like I’ve told most of you what the World Race is, and have talked about it in other blogs, so, if you don’t know what it is, look it up.
This team is all girls, all amazing, mature, kind young women. The first night I met them, a couple of weeks ago, they asked me if I would go up to the crafts market in Manzini with them the next Saturday. I said, sure!
I had done it before with a World Race team, acting as a sort of tour guide for them around the ‘big city’. Minus the big.
Manzini is always insane, and we had an insane day, but it was great. I got to know them better and had a great time just hanging out with them.
Apparently, in God’s eyes, Manzini, and, specifically, Manzini buses, are also a great place to teach spiritual lessons…J
When we had first gotten on the bus, we sat there for like 45 minutes waiting for it to fill up. That was a 45 minutes spent baking in the blazing African sun, being crowded together with lots of sweaty Swazis, and tuning out the piercing BEEEEEEEP of the bus’ horn as the bus driver tried to get out of the bus rank.
By the time we got on the road, finally, I was pretty miserable.
And that’s when God decided to test my obedience to him.
Yeahhh, His timing is usually impeccable.
I was sitting here in the window seat, SOAKED in my own sweat, and probably a little bit of the lady’s next to me, blasting my ipod in a desperate effort to tune out the screaming of everyone at the bus rank, the honking of the extremely obnoxious horn, and the yelling of some guy on the bus trying to sell candy, and not too happy, when God points out the little girl standing in the aisle next to my seat.
I had bought two beaded wrap-around type wire bracelets at the market that day, and was pretty happy with them--especially since they matched my outfit…J
I had been playing with the bracelets, wrapping them and unwrapping them from my wrist absentmindedly, when I saw the little girl eyeing them.
God said to me:
‘I want you to give one of your bracelets to that little girl.’
Now here’s what get’s me. God treasures me so much that he (a) gives me a choice…what bracelet will I give to her, and (b) says I only have to give away one. He’s such an amazing Father!
Right away, I thought, ‘No! I just got this bracelet, it matches my outfit, and this girl is absolutely fine, I mean, she had enough money to ride this bus, right? She isn’t suffering too bad.’ Yeah. I know; pathetic. But it was my thought process in the moment.
This went on for a little while in my head, me going back and forth, back and forth…to give the little girl the bracelet, or not.
Eventually, I came to my senses and thought ‘Would I rather NOT have this bracelet, or NOT have the guilt attached TO that bracelet every time I looked at it, thinking, ‘I didn’t obey God and give this away to that little girl.’’ So, I slowly unwrapped the white one from my arm, and wrapped it around her wrist.
She was beaming for the rest of the bus ride.
And so was I.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Up With The Birds
It is kind of funny that this is the second blog that I wrote that has a little something to do with Coldplay. Psssshhh, you say I'm obsessed with them? Nonsense. :)
Haha. So anyway.
Up With The Birds is my favorite song on the new Coldplay album my daddy bought in South Africa last week. It doesn't have any deep meaning or anything that I'm going to write about, it just has something to do with my crazy night last night.
I literally was up with the birds.
Not what I would have chosen, but obviously God had a plan...as usual (:
I was up all night with our puppy, Becker and his sister Lula Belle who is staying with us over Christmas. Unfortunately, Lula Belle brings out the worst in Becker, since she is completely insane. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love them both to death, but she is sort of obnoxious...sort of. :)
So, Becker and Lula Belle had had a wonderful evening romping around the livingroom and kitchen and had pretty much tuckered themselves out by about 8:00. They slept soundly for awhile, which gave me hope of a quiet night for yours truly.
Ha.
Quiet, indeed.
Not.
This little evening nap restored their energy for a fun-filled night of wrestling, pooping on the livingroom floor, and puppies on and off of my bed.
Not such a great night to get a good old ten hours. I was wide awake on and off from about 2 am to 5:30.
But, like I said, God had a plan.
Just as I was about to crawl into my bed and collapse, maybe get a good three hours or so, God put on my heart that I should spend some time in the word.
Earlier that evening, in our Angus Buchan (The guy from the book/movie Faith Like Potatoes) dinner bible study, we had talked about how important it is to spend time in the word in the morning, to start our day with the Lord. That's really hard for me, because I am not a morning person. :) But, the Lord told me this morning that I should read some. So I did. I was up anyway.
At first I closed my eyes and asked God to tell me where he wanted me to read from, but I didn't hear anything, so I opened my bible and flipped to a random spot. I opened to the first page of Jeremiah.
I sat outside on our porch, watched the sunrise (though there wasn't much of one, since the sun was behind the clouds) and read through about chapter 7 in Jeremiah.
But what I believe God really wanted to show me was in the first chapter.
Here are the verses I underlined and believe God was speaking to me through:
And, if so, there's only one thing I need to say to end this blog.
Haha. So anyway.
Up With The Birds is my favorite song on the new Coldplay album my daddy bought in South Africa last week. It doesn't have any deep meaning or anything that I'm going to write about, it just has something to do with my crazy night last night.
I literally was up with the birds.
Not what I would have chosen, but obviously God had a plan...as usual (:
I was up all night with our puppy, Becker and his sister Lula Belle who is staying with us over Christmas. Unfortunately, Lula Belle brings out the worst in Becker, since she is completely insane. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love them both to death, but she is sort of obnoxious...sort of. :)
So, Becker and Lula Belle had had a wonderful evening romping around the livingroom and kitchen and had pretty much tuckered themselves out by about 8:00. They slept soundly for awhile, which gave me hope of a quiet night for yours truly.
Ha.
Quiet, indeed.
Not.
This little evening nap restored their energy for a fun-filled night of wrestling, pooping on the livingroom floor, and puppies on and off of my bed.
Not such a great night to get a good old ten hours. I was wide awake on and off from about 2 am to 5:30.
But, like I said, God had a plan.
Just as I was about to crawl into my bed and collapse, maybe get a good three hours or so, God put on my heart that I should spend some time in the word.
Earlier that evening, in our Angus Buchan (The guy from the book/movie Faith Like Potatoes) dinner bible study, we had talked about how important it is to spend time in the word in the morning, to start our day with the Lord. That's really hard for me, because I am not a morning person. :) But, the Lord told me this morning that I should read some. So I did. I was up anyway.
At first I closed my eyes and asked God to tell me where he wanted me to read from, but I didn't hear anything, so I opened my bible and flipped to a random spot. I opened to the first page of Jeremiah.
I sat outside on our porch, watched the sunrise (though there wasn't much of one, since the sun was behind the clouds) and read through about chapter 7 in Jeremiah.
But what I believe God really wanted to show me was in the first chapter.
Here are the verses I underlined and believe God was speaking to me through:
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
before you were born I set you apart;
I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.” ~vs. 1
before you were born I set you apart;
I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.” ~vs. 1
Now, this could've been interpreted as my call for this season in Swaziland, with my family for these two years, but I believe God has been calling me to a different sort of mission, one that goes beyond my time in my parents' house, and that will extend into my adult years.
I believe God eventually wants me to start my adult life in South Africa or Swaziland.
I don't know exactly what that means, and it is an extremely scary thought, but listen to verses 7-8 and 17
"But the LORD said to me,
“Do not say, ‘I am too young.’
You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you.
Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you,”
declares the LORD." ~vs. 7-8
" “Get yourself ready!
Stand up and say to them whatever I command you.
Do not be terrified by them,
or I will terrify you before them.” " ~vs. 17
Hallelujah! I don't have to be afraid because God is with me and will rescue me!
This is one of the first times where I have felt God really, directly speaking to me, and it is so amazing. I am so excited for whatever God has for me, and you can imagine how glad I am I decided to stay awake and read the word, how glad I am for God's prompting to do that.
And, it's amazing, because, it's possible that our puppy Becker will be part of the reason I move back to Africa as an adult.
And, if so, there's only one thing I need to say to end this blog.
Thanks puppy(:
If you'd like to listen to this wonderful song I speak of, follow the link below:
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
I don't know about y'all, but, in my opinion, there is absolutely no one more pleasant to listen to than Chris Martin of Coldplay. He has the most amazing voice, and I literally could listen to him all day.
Don't worry, this entire blog won't be me ranting about my celebrity crush.(: No, this blog is a little deeper than that(:
Coldplay ties into my blog in that, at the moment, I am listening to 'Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas', which Chris Martin is singing.
Those of you who read my last blog know that at that point, I was feeling a little sorry for myself. Sad because I wasn't going to be able to spend my very favorite time of year with some of my very favorite people.
Since then, I have been extremely blessed by our wonderful Father.
Oh yes people, you absolutely can't out-give God, which I am reminded of by my daddy a lot (my earthly daddy..to be clear =] ) but had not really accepted until I saw some of the tangible examples of it in my own life.
The point of the saying, or whatever, is that, even if we give a little bit, whether it be our time, ourselves, our posessions, God will always deliver. Even if we think that giving something like our money will debilitate us, he will give us what we need. Our God is Jehovah Jirah, the God who provides.
Like I said, there have been many times this week especially where this has been evident. I have only in the last couple days sat back and reflected on the specific moments where it has been portrayed, but there have been many instances.
For example, the camping trip I went on this past week with our South African Grandmas and Grandpa. We went to Badplaas, South Africa and spent and amazing 8 days swimming in the waterpark that was part of the resort we camped at, enjoying the sun, and just resting and relaxing. It was such a gift to be able to spend some time away and get to know Elsabe, Waldemor and Celma, the amazingly wonderful people that brought us, better.
Another example is the R20,000 (about $2500!!) we received toward our crazy truck from an anonymous donor at our church. Our Land Cruiser has had so many problems and we have put so much money into it and this is truly a blessing from the Lord.
Thirdly, there's our new puppy, Becker. He is so beautiful. He is bringing a joy to our family that comes when someone else is added to the family (even if he is a furry friend =] )
I know there are so many more individual gifts that God has given me and our family, but these are the three large ones that I have reflected on. I don't think I will ever lose the joy and excitement that Christmas brings, no matter the circumstance, my age, our even what country I'm in.
Ok Chris, I will have a merry little Christmas.
Don't worry, this entire blog won't be me ranting about my celebrity crush.(: No, this blog is a little deeper than that(:
Coldplay ties into my blog in that, at the moment, I am listening to 'Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas', which Chris Martin is singing.
Those of you who read my last blog know that at that point, I was feeling a little sorry for myself. Sad because I wasn't going to be able to spend my very favorite time of year with some of my very favorite people.
Since then, I have been extremely blessed by our wonderful Father.
Oh yes people, you absolutely can't out-give God, which I am reminded of by my daddy a lot (my earthly daddy..to be clear =] ) but had not really accepted until I saw some of the tangible examples of it in my own life.
The point of the saying, or whatever, is that, even if we give a little bit, whether it be our time, ourselves, our posessions, God will always deliver. Even if we think that giving something like our money will debilitate us, he will give us what we need. Our God is Jehovah Jirah, the God who provides.
Like I said, there have been many times this week especially where this has been evident. I have only in the last couple days sat back and reflected on the specific moments where it has been portrayed, but there have been many instances.
For example, the camping trip I went on this past week with our South African Grandmas and Grandpa. We went to Badplaas, South Africa and spent and amazing 8 days swimming in the waterpark that was part of the resort we camped at, enjoying the sun, and just resting and relaxing. It was such a gift to be able to spend some time away and get to know Elsabe, Waldemor and Celma, the amazingly wonderful people that brought us, better.
Another example is the R20,000 (about $2500!!) we received toward our crazy truck from an anonymous donor at our church. Our Land Cruiser has had so many problems and we have put so much money into it and this is truly a blessing from the Lord.
Thirdly, there's our new puppy, Becker. He is so beautiful. He is bringing a joy to our family that comes when someone else is added to the family (even if he is a furry friend =] )
I know there are so many more individual gifts that God has given me and our family, but these are the three large ones that I have reflected on. I don't think I will ever lose the joy and excitement that Christmas brings, no matter the circumstance, my age, our even what country I'm in.
Ok Chris, I will have a merry little Christmas.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
There's So Much To Be Thankful For
I love Christmas. I absolutely LOVE it. I always have. The music and the decorations and the snow. All of it just makes me happy.
I’ve been trying my hardest to conform my Christmas this year to something exactly like what we would do in the States. I’ve been listening to Christmas music nonstop.(I’m actually listening to Josh Groban belt out ‘Silent Night’ right now =] ) I’m decorating my room with lights and ornaments. I’ve been convincing myself it should be freezing at night and wrapping up in my blankets, no matter how hot it really is. But no matter how much I do, I’m still not home. I’m not with the friends and family I love, watching the snow fall outside, curling up next to Grandma and Grandpa’s woodstove.
I guess maybe I have to stop trying to make this Christmas like an American one and just accept that it’s not and be ok with that, enjoying the excitement of spending Christmas in Africa. And I was doing really good with that for awhile. I was so excited to swim on Christmas and have a braii (South African BBQ ). Things we in Michigan never would do on Christmas. But today it sort of came flooding out. I was looking at my pictures from last Christmas and thinking about how wonderful it would be to go out and be in the snow.
Maybe all this time I thought I was fine, that I would be ok just having a wonderful Christmas with my wonderful family in a completely different (yet wonderful =]) place, maybe all this time I was just pushing down what I was really feeling. And, don’t get me wrong, I love this place, I love it more than anything. More than anything in the world. It’s amazing, and so hard emotionally, because lately God has been really speaking to me about a possible longer-term call for me here. Like, maybe after college or whatever he wants me to move here and start a family and live my life here. He was actually putting South Africa on my heart.
And it’s crazy, because I’ve been having this amazing peace about that, about living here. Like, it’s just been getting stronger and stronger and now it almost feels like a call, rather than just a feeling. I think more about South Africa because I don’t know how well I would do on my own. Swaziland is so isolated and there really isn’t anyone down here. I think if I did end up coming here, it would have to be if more people were living down here as well by then.
It seems far into the future that I’m thinking, about living here and starting my life here, but really, in less than five years I’m going to be an adult, starting college and seriously considering what I want to do with my life. And this seems pretty likely.
It doesn’t make sense, but it sort of scares me that I’m at peace with the idea of living here. Like I said, doesn’t make sense. Maybe I’m more scared of the call I think maybe God has put on my heart, I’m not really sure.
So what I’m getting to is that I’ve been feeling that call a lot lately, or what I think is a call, and feeling almost no opposition to the idea in my spirit. But when I look at pictures from home, and think about how extremely excited about going home I am after only being here nearly a year, I wonder if I could really do it.
This blog doesn’t necessarily have a happy ending, a resolution I’ve found in my spirit, because I haven’t found any resolution yet. I was feeling homesick and needed to get it out on paper, or in writing…whatever[=.
Thankfully, I have many things to look forward to right now that I know will get my mind off of feeling homesick, and I’m praying about it. Please pray for me too… I love all of you who are reading this….I miss you. I wish I could be there spending Christmas with you, but for now, I’ll enjoy my top-of-an-aloe-plant Christmas tree, and swimming on Christmas day, and camping for the holidays in summer weather..etc. I really am blessed, it’s just hard to see that when all you can think about are the faces of family you won’t get to see during Christmas, and the flakes of snow falling to the ground, and the fire. It’s a melancholy sort of feeling.
And it must be God, in his gentle, daddy way, that made me to be listening to ‘There’s So Much To Be Thankful For’ right at this moment. There is, there really is. I guess all it took was a blog, some Josh Groban, and some love from our good, good God, because I already feel a lot better.
Merry Christmas everyone.
There’s so much to be thankful for.
I’ve been trying my hardest to conform my Christmas this year to something exactly like what we would do in the States. I’ve been listening to Christmas music nonstop.(I’m actually listening to Josh Groban belt out ‘Silent Night’ right now =] ) I’m decorating my room with lights and ornaments. I’ve been convincing myself it should be freezing at night and wrapping up in my blankets, no matter how hot it really is. But no matter how much I do, I’m still not home. I’m not with the friends and family I love, watching the snow fall outside, curling up next to Grandma and Grandpa’s woodstove.
I guess maybe I have to stop trying to make this Christmas like an American one and just accept that it’s not and be ok with that, enjoying the excitement of spending Christmas in Africa. And I was doing really good with that for awhile. I was so excited to swim on Christmas and have a braii (South African BBQ ). Things we in Michigan never would do on Christmas. But today it sort of came flooding out. I was looking at my pictures from last Christmas and thinking about how wonderful it would be to go out and be in the snow.
Maybe all this time I thought I was fine, that I would be ok just having a wonderful Christmas with my wonderful family in a completely different (yet wonderful =]) place, maybe all this time I was just pushing down what I was really feeling. And, don’t get me wrong, I love this place, I love it more than anything. More than anything in the world. It’s amazing, and so hard emotionally, because lately God has been really speaking to me about a possible longer-term call for me here. Like, maybe after college or whatever he wants me to move here and start a family and live my life here. He was actually putting South Africa on my heart.
And it’s crazy, because I’ve been having this amazing peace about that, about living here. Like, it’s just been getting stronger and stronger and now it almost feels like a call, rather than just a feeling. I think more about South Africa because I don’t know how well I would do on my own. Swaziland is so isolated and there really isn’t anyone down here. I think if I did end up coming here, it would have to be if more people were living down here as well by then.
It seems far into the future that I’m thinking, about living here and starting my life here, but really, in less than five years I’m going to be an adult, starting college and seriously considering what I want to do with my life. And this seems pretty likely.
It doesn’t make sense, but it sort of scares me that I’m at peace with the idea of living here. Like I said, doesn’t make sense. Maybe I’m more scared of the call I think maybe God has put on my heart, I’m not really sure.
So what I’m getting to is that I’ve been feeling that call a lot lately, or what I think is a call, and feeling almost no opposition to the idea in my spirit. But when I look at pictures from home, and think about how extremely excited about going home I am after only being here nearly a year, I wonder if I could really do it.
This blog doesn’t necessarily have a happy ending, a resolution I’ve found in my spirit, because I haven’t found any resolution yet. I was feeling homesick and needed to get it out on paper, or in writing…whatever[=.
Thankfully, I have many things to look forward to right now that I know will get my mind off of feeling homesick, and I’m praying about it. Please pray for me too… I love all of you who are reading this….I miss you. I wish I could be there spending Christmas with you, but for now, I’ll enjoy my top-of-an-aloe-plant Christmas tree, and swimming on Christmas day, and camping for the holidays in summer weather..etc. I really am blessed, it’s just hard to see that when all you can think about are the faces of family you won’t get to see during Christmas, and the flakes of snow falling to the ground, and the fire. It’s a melancholy sort of feeling.
And it must be God, in his gentle, daddy way, that made me to be listening to ‘There’s So Much To Be Thankful For’ right at this moment. There is, there really is. I guess all it took was a blog, some Josh Groban, and some love from our good, good God, because I already feel a lot better.
Merry Christmas everyone.
There’s so much to be thankful for.
Friday, October 7, 2011
I'm ok.
In the past couple weeks, (or months, hard to tell) I've come to know this peace that is remarkable.
Every once in awhile I'll just sit and reflect on how I'm feeling in that exact moment. For awhile now the feeling is usually this nuetral sort of state. I'm neither stressed out and worn down, nor anxious or excited, but simply at peace with who God is, who I am, where I am and where God is taking me.
It's hard to really put it into words exactly how I've been feeling these past couple months. Perhaps it would be better if I compared it to how I was feeling when we first arrived in Nsoko, and then after a few months.
As you might imagine, when we came back to Swaziland for the first time in about 6 months, I was basically stoked. (sorry, but that's pretty much the only word that describes it(: ) It worked out pretty well in favor of all my excitement too: It was basically one step after another, all leading closer to my beloved Nsoko. First it was the airport, then the plane, then Africa itself, and then the two weeks we spent in Manzini, and finally, Nsoko.
And even after that, there was the excitement of just being here, finally. It was what I had been literally dreaming about for half a year now. I was home. But after the excitement of finally being here, of arriving where I thought to be my true home, sort of wore off, I, and our whole family, sort of settled into this plateau sort of period. There was no 'one leg closer to Nsoko', it just was Nsoko.
Although it was a time of little excitement in some respects, it was also a time of nervous anxiety in different ways. We all grew homesick. Mom was very sad. Some days all I wanted was to go home. But then I really thought about going home, and what that would really be like. I thought about how much I would miss everyone here.
I think it would have been easier for me to just long for home totally if I didn't know what it felt like to be away from Swaziland. As I said, I dreamt about coming back here almost every night I was in the States. I longed to hold the babies I call mine, to look into their faces and rock them to sleep. I know what it feels like to want to do something more than you've ever wanted anything in the world. And that was that I wanted to go home.
So, you see, if this hadn't been so, if I didn't know exactly what it was like to not be here, all I would have wanted in those plateau sort of months would have been to go home. Becuase that's where half of my heart lay, and lies. The fact that half of it still remains grounded firmly here made it even harder.
It was hard in those months. Some days I would just sit and cry. I will admit that I was angry at God. Even though I know that is the complete wrong emotion to ever feel. I was angry at him for calling me here. Because, truly, there will always be somewhere I want to be. If I'm here, or in America, I'll want to be the other place.
Slowly, we got back on our feet. Some of you reading this are I'm sure from Beechwood, and know Jim and Lisa Luyk. If you don't, they are just about the sweetest two people you could ever imagine. Anyway, one week in June, they came to visit us here in Swazi. Our visit with them was amazing. If you read my blog 'United For the War' the visitors from the States I talked about were them. In that blog I also explained how after this visit, which was wonderful while it lasted, our family took a turn for the worst again. It was so hard to say goodbye, and we were all quietly fighting feelings of bitterness and doubt in the following weeks.
Thankfully, that isn't the end of the story. God wasn't finished yet (and I PRAISE him that he STILL isn't :) ). That was June. July was crazy team month, as I am going to call it. At one time we had three teams on the ground at once. One of 30, and two of 15. Basically everyday Dad, and Mom and Jake and I sometimes as well, were running around, driving teams around, helping them with ministry stuff, etc. Now, don't get me wrong, I absolutely love teams, but it's insane. So at that point we were all in this sort of numb state. I was anyway.
Teams died down and August and September arrived. Right then we were all anticipating the arrival of my Grandma and Grandpa Baker, Mom's parents, who came on the 16th of Sept. Having them here, just like having Jim and Lisa was here, was really, really great. But all through the visit I had in the back of my mind the fear, that when they left, it was going to be like when Jim and Lisa left, we were all going to be just really, really sad.
I prayed and prayed that this wouldn't happen. And God pulled through. It shouldn't surprise us when God answers our prayers, but it does, doesn't it? Each time He works a miracle in our favor, whether it be big or small, us of little faith are continually amazed by his faithfulness.
When my Grandma and Grandpa left, initially, I was pretty sad, naturally, but after a few days, I was ok. And I am ok. God has filled me with this peace, this overwhelming peace like nothing I've ever felt. It's like, ok. Yeah. I'm ok. I don't have to feel anxious about anything, because God's got me. He's got me right in his arms. And if I'm there, what do I have to be afraid of?
Every once in awhile I'll just sit and reflect on how I'm feeling in that exact moment. For awhile now the feeling is usually this nuetral sort of state. I'm neither stressed out and worn down, nor anxious or excited, but simply at peace with who God is, who I am, where I am and where God is taking me.
It's hard to really put it into words exactly how I've been feeling these past couple months. Perhaps it would be better if I compared it to how I was feeling when we first arrived in Nsoko, and then after a few months.
As you might imagine, when we came back to Swaziland for the first time in about 6 months, I was basically stoked. (sorry, but that's pretty much the only word that describes it(: ) It worked out pretty well in favor of all my excitement too: It was basically one step after another, all leading closer to my beloved Nsoko. First it was the airport, then the plane, then Africa itself, and then the two weeks we spent in Manzini, and finally, Nsoko.
And even after that, there was the excitement of just being here, finally. It was what I had been literally dreaming about for half a year now. I was home. But after the excitement of finally being here, of arriving where I thought to be my true home, sort of wore off, I, and our whole family, sort of settled into this plateau sort of period. There was no 'one leg closer to Nsoko', it just was Nsoko.
Although it was a time of little excitement in some respects, it was also a time of nervous anxiety in different ways. We all grew homesick. Mom was very sad. Some days all I wanted was to go home. But then I really thought about going home, and what that would really be like. I thought about how much I would miss everyone here.
I think it would have been easier for me to just long for home totally if I didn't know what it felt like to be away from Swaziland. As I said, I dreamt about coming back here almost every night I was in the States. I longed to hold the babies I call mine, to look into their faces and rock them to sleep. I know what it feels like to want to do something more than you've ever wanted anything in the world. And that was that I wanted to go home.
So, you see, if this hadn't been so, if I didn't know exactly what it was like to not be here, all I would have wanted in those plateau sort of months would have been to go home. Becuase that's where half of my heart lay, and lies. The fact that half of it still remains grounded firmly here made it even harder.
It was hard in those months. Some days I would just sit and cry. I will admit that I was angry at God. Even though I know that is the complete wrong emotion to ever feel. I was angry at him for calling me here. Because, truly, there will always be somewhere I want to be. If I'm here, or in America, I'll want to be the other place.
Slowly, we got back on our feet. Some of you reading this are I'm sure from Beechwood, and know Jim and Lisa Luyk. If you don't, they are just about the sweetest two people you could ever imagine. Anyway, one week in June, they came to visit us here in Swazi. Our visit with them was amazing. If you read my blog 'United For the War' the visitors from the States I talked about were them. In that blog I also explained how after this visit, which was wonderful while it lasted, our family took a turn for the worst again. It was so hard to say goodbye, and we were all quietly fighting feelings of bitterness and doubt in the following weeks.
Thankfully, that isn't the end of the story. God wasn't finished yet (and I PRAISE him that he STILL isn't :) ). That was June. July was crazy team month, as I am going to call it. At one time we had three teams on the ground at once. One of 30, and two of 15. Basically everyday Dad, and Mom and Jake and I sometimes as well, were running around, driving teams around, helping them with ministry stuff, etc. Now, don't get me wrong, I absolutely love teams, but it's insane. So at that point we were all in this sort of numb state. I was anyway.
Teams died down and August and September arrived. Right then we were all anticipating the arrival of my Grandma and Grandpa Baker, Mom's parents, who came on the 16th of Sept. Having them here, just like having Jim and Lisa was here, was really, really great. But all through the visit I had in the back of my mind the fear, that when they left, it was going to be like when Jim and Lisa left, we were all going to be just really, really sad.
I prayed and prayed that this wouldn't happen. And God pulled through. It shouldn't surprise us when God answers our prayers, but it does, doesn't it? Each time He works a miracle in our favor, whether it be big or small, us of little faith are continually amazed by his faithfulness.
When my Grandma and Grandpa left, initially, I was pretty sad, naturally, but after a few days, I was ok. And I am ok. God has filled me with this peace, this overwhelming peace like nothing I've ever felt. It's like, ok. Yeah. I'm ok. I don't have to feel anxious about anything, because God's got me. He's got me right in his arms. And if I'm there, what do I have to be afraid of?
Friday, July 22, 2011
Dreaming About Home...
I'm a wreck right now. No, if you were sitting next to me (which Jake actually is) you wouldn't know it. But inside I am breaking.
You may think that I want to go home. No. It's not that. Not all of it anyway.
We had this amazing team here recently. One of the best. I've never felt so close to a really short-term team before.
They were a high school youth group from a large church in Colorado Springs. Maybe the reason I loved them so much was because I'm just craving people my age around me. And don't yell at me for racism, because that's not what it is, but AMERICAN people my age.
Yes, that sounds horrible, but Swazis are different than Americans. Obvious, right? Yes, everyone knows that us spoiled Americans have a completely different mindset than people living in third-world countries. Of course!
We all 'know' that people are dying, are sick, are hungry, thirsty, but until you get here, and STAY here, you really have no idea how different it really is.
So, to sum up, it is very hard to become friends with Swazi young people. No, not that they aren't friendly or anything. I guess I should say it this way. It is much different to be friends with Swazi young people.
Most Swazis are very immature for their age. So, a 20 year old that works at our house is best buddies with Jake, who turns eleven in a week. Yes. So, you say, just be friends with 20 year olds! They're the same level of maturity, so it doesn't matter! Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. I couldn't really explain it in words. Lots of cultural stuff.
So anyway, the team. Woodmen Valley is the name of their church.
Woodmen had an awesome mix of personalities and spiritual strengths. I loved, loved, loved seeing all of them love on kids at their carepoint, trying to learn SiSwati, meeting gogos. The usual.
I can't exactly explain why I loved Woodmen so much. Like I said, it probably had something to do with the fact that they were American kids close to my age. I don't know.
They left last Sunday morning. I didn't cry, but I wanted to. I hugged them each goodbye and waved goodbye as they drove off in their bus. Goodbye Woodmen.
It's so, so, SO hard. The team aspect of ministry here. So awesome, but so hard. You meet all of these new people, share amazing experiences with them, pray with them, talk to them and just share life with them in this unexpected setting, and then they leave. Just like that. Gone. And you'll probably never see them. Ever again. In this life anyway.
And the thing of it is, they get to go home in a week or two. Get on with their lives. Yes, this experience has changed them, (or we'd like to hope so anyway) but they're home. I don't think they forget about me, or our family, or Africa, but the memory is tucked away in a little hidden compartment in their minds. But for me, I think about each and every team that left an impact on me daily. Seriously, I do. Different things will trigger the thoughts. Something I see on Facebook, a place or person we saw while they were here, or even a meal we had with them.
I dreamt that we went home last night. It was so strange, and I can't get it out of my head. I had my first day of high school. I saw people I love. It was bizarre. I woke up and didn't know where I was. For a moment I was disappointed. I thought that I had really seen my grandparents for the first time in 4 months. I thought I had really started high school and met new friends. The disappointment was fleeting, though. After a moment I realized I really was happy here, and I really do love it here. Because in the dream I really missed being here. Even in the midst of all the happiness, I really did want to be here.
I think that dream was God's way of telling me that He needed me here right now. And making me really appreciate this amazing experience I'm having. How many 13 year olds really get to do this? Not many, I can tell you that.
Today I read a Facebook note someone on the Woodmen team wrote about post-Africa feelings and emotions. She said this:
"I don’t feel like Africa wrecked my life. I feel like it slowly crept into my heart, wrapped it’s roots around me, and is firmly embedded in who I am."
I'm happy for her. I'm happy that Africa didn't completely rock her world. But for me, it did. Africa did wreck my life. And don't read that in a negative context, but Africa turned my entire life upside down. I will never, ever, ever be the same. And I will never have a TRUE place to call home.
I feel sorry for myself sometimes. Often, actually. I'm trying not to. But sometimes I do. I lament the fact that I will never be home again. Not really. Because even if we go home after this time, and I tuck away the memory of the two years I spent in Africa as a teen, and go on with life, that memory will always be there.
But it's ok. It really is. At the beginning of this blog I was tied up inside and scared and lonely. But now I think I'm at peace. For now. I needed to write this blog, to pour out what's written on my heart right now. Please know I'm really exposing myself with this. Some of it may seem extreme or offensive. I'm sorry if it does. It's what I'm feeling. Take it or leave it.
So anyway, thanks for taking the time to read about my brokenness...
You may think that I want to go home. No. It's not that. Not all of it anyway.
We had this amazing team here recently. One of the best. I've never felt so close to a really short-term team before.
They were a high school youth group from a large church in Colorado Springs. Maybe the reason I loved them so much was because I'm just craving people my age around me. And don't yell at me for racism, because that's not what it is, but AMERICAN people my age.
Yes, that sounds horrible, but Swazis are different than Americans. Obvious, right? Yes, everyone knows that us spoiled Americans have a completely different mindset than people living in third-world countries. Of course!
We all 'know' that people are dying, are sick, are hungry, thirsty, but until you get here, and STAY here, you really have no idea how different it really is.
So, to sum up, it is very hard to become friends with Swazi young people. No, not that they aren't friendly or anything. I guess I should say it this way. It is much different to be friends with Swazi young people.
Most Swazis are very immature for their age. So, a 20 year old that works at our house is best buddies with Jake, who turns eleven in a week. Yes. So, you say, just be friends with 20 year olds! They're the same level of maturity, so it doesn't matter! Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. I couldn't really explain it in words. Lots of cultural stuff.
So anyway, the team. Woodmen Valley is the name of their church.
Woodmen had an awesome mix of personalities and spiritual strengths. I loved, loved, loved seeing all of them love on kids at their carepoint, trying to learn SiSwati, meeting gogos. The usual.
I can't exactly explain why I loved Woodmen so much. Like I said, it probably had something to do with the fact that they were American kids close to my age. I don't know.
They left last Sunday morning. I didn't cry, but I wanted to. I hugged them each goodbye and waved goodbye as they drove off in their bus. Goodbye Woodmen.
It's so, so, SO hard. The team aspect of ministry here. So awesome, but so hard. You meet all of these new people, share amazing experiences with them, pray with them, talk to them and just share life with them in this unexpected setting, and then they leave. Just like that. Gone. And you'll probably never see them. Ever again. In this life anyway.
And the thing of it is, they get to go home in a week or two. Get on with their lives. Yes, this experience has changed them, (or we'd like to hope so anyway) but they're home. I don't think they forget about me, or our family, or Africa, but the memory is tucked away in a little hidden compartment in their minds. But for me, I think about each and every team that left an impact on me daily. Seriously, I do. Different things will trigger the thoughts. Something I see on Facebook, a place or person we saw while they were here, or even a meal we had with them.
I dreamt that we went home last night. It was so strange, and I can't get it out of my head. I had my first day of high school. I saw people I love. It was bizarre. I woke up and didn't know where I was. For a moment I was disappointed. I thought that I had really seen my grandparents for the first time in 4 months. I thought I had really started high school and met new friends. The disappointment was fleeting, though. After a moment I realized I really was happy here, and I really do love it here. Because in the dream I really missed being here. Even in the midst of all the happiness, I really did want to be here.
I think that dream was God's way of telling me that He needed me here right now. And making me really appreciate this amazing experience I'm having. How many 13 year olds really get to do this? Not many, I can tell you that.
Today I read a Facebook note someone on the Woodmen team wrote about post-Africa feelings and emotions. She said this:
"I don’t feel like Africa wrecked my life. I feel like it slowly crept into my heart, wrapped it’s roots around me, and is firmly embedded in who I am."
I'm happy for her. I'm happy that Africa didn't completely rock her world. But for me, it did. Africa did wreck my life. And don't read that in a negative context, but Africa turned my entire life upside down. I will never, ever, ever be the same. And I will never have a TRUE place to call home.
I feel sorry for myself sometimes. Often, actually. I'm trying not to. But sometimes I do. I lament the fact that I will never be home again. Not really. Because even if we go home after this time, and I tuck away the memory of the two years I spent in Africa as a teen, and go on with life, that memory will always be there.
But it's ok. It really is. At the beginning of this blog I was tied up inside and scared and lonely. But now I think I'm at peace. For now. I needed to write this blog, to pour out what's written on my heart right now. Please know I'm really exposing myself with this. Some of it may seem extreme or offensive. I'm sorry if it does. It's what I'm feeling. Take it or leave it.
So anyway, thanks for taking the time to read about my brokenness...
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