The Deal with Good Byes

I've said good bye to a lot lately - people, places, old comforts - without any true promise of seeing or experiencing their presence again. I have had to move on from dying relationships, leave behind sweet places I couldn't live at forever, and do what I could to let go of material comforts that faded, were eaten up, or were just too heavy to bring in my suitecase with me across the ocean.

The truth is, I hate to cry in front of people. I really do ... but the dignity I protect is a luxury I cannot afford when I've said the number of hard good byes that I have. I always wanted to say that letting go of people got easier as I got used to it, but I can't seem to callouse my heart enough. I wonder if anyone can.

But here I am; after stretching seasons, cycles of tears and laughter, quiet nights alone and slow mornings where I have little motivation to get up and live ... I am alive and I am thriving. I am in a country I have never called my own ... with friends I never would have met otherwise, particular, simple joys I never would have known elsewhere, and a blossoming peace in the solitude and among the questions. I have no doubt God will take care of my family and I; my faith has held strong! And now, after the many good byes I have suffered with, the seasons of testing, adjustment and faith, I find myself looking at a completely new, fresh, and exciting life ... just breaching the horizon.

　
　

I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.
John 14: 18, KJV

My Africa

 I found this poetic and real. It's a good description of the place I miss! This isn't much of a blog post, but I don't think I need to add anything else.

Originally from this website:  http://www.afrostylemag.com/ASM9/

Colors of the World

Let's just say that I felt like I really needed to share some pictures. Here below are a collection of my favorite photos from my Pinterest Board 'Colors of the World'. I personally feel like this is the one board that took any kind of artistic talent to put together. I didn't take any of them ... or edit any of them ... but hey! The collection itself was in original idea that was begging to be put together.




























 








So that's the beauty of people! Credits to God for the artistry. Thanks to the photographers.

The Question

As of today (Thursday) we have a week and four days till we leave Otjiwarongo. Our trip back to America starts July 1st (driving to the capital, then spending the night there) then arriving at Dulles on July 3rd. My room is a wreck of half-packed clothes, makeup and miscellaneous items. Anyone want a denim Bible case? A pair of size 3 [US s6] heels? A box of random craft stuff I've never found the time to use?

A week and four days.
AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAAAAHH!!!!!! OH MY GOODNESS.

This is the weird part where I say good bye to people in Africa (who have become my entire teen-hood) and say 'See you next year!' and go back to the people that, in a certain way, I left behind with my childhood (not that I've forgotten you - I love you, my Americaners!) - this is the part where I see what remains of the friendships I've been (not-so-diligently) keeping alive through letters and Facebook since I was twelve years old. For those who don't know, we're going on six years since we moved to Africa.

Returning to our old churches, Co-ops, dance classes and Youth Groups, we'll likely face warm welcomes and bear hugs. On sabbatical, like any other missionary, we'll go to friends' houses, "need-to-catch-up" meetings at restaurants and visit our supporters' Churches. The missionary goes from volunteer work in hospitals, schools and growing churches on the mission field to suddenly adopting the job of 'Nomadic Socialite' on their trip to the Motherland. Yep. My job (and that of my parents) is to talk to people.

Oddly, in the middle of that, I will likely face the Alien-sensation; take that however you want. The MK (oooor military brat, exchange student, immigrant, etc.) who faces their childhood home again will probably find it odd to be back ... and feel like the world has moved on without them. And depending on how different their other culture is, they may also feel like they have a third eyeball growing in the middle of their head.

 It's great to have friends greet you with enthusiasm and ask you questions about your life in Africa (or wherever). Even better is the look on their faces when you speak as fast as you can in some crazy foreign language that they've never even heard the name of. All that is fine and dandy - in fact, most of the above mentioned are pleasures enjoyed solely by Third-Culture-Kids.

But there's something huge missing. Let's return to the phrase above - which, by the way, I completely made up - Alien-sensation. I remember how I felt like a foreigner in my own country. Yep. I said it. I was surrounded by friendly people, but down in my spirit I knew very well that I didn't belong. My clothing, the things I said, and my social awkwardness didn't help me much. (This second-go-'round, I think I'll be better at all of that.)

But something else separates the American-African that isolates them in a crowd of Westerners. Honestly, there are emotions and situations that very few single-culture people understand - this can lead to a deep loneliness in those separated from their mission field. (Interestingly, studies have shown that MK's from completely different countries tend to feel at home in each other's presence. We share 'the commonality of our differences'.)


 Of course, the loneliness is not the worst of it! There's one thing ... one terrible, awkward, heart-wrenching question that Americans and other Western non-travelling citizens use to terrorize their poor, victimized missionaries on a regular basis. And by a regular basis, I mean just about every single day. *deep breath*  (I can hardly type it).



                                                How's.        Africa.



That's it. Just plain ol' 'Hey, how's Africa?' from a friend or relative is destructive to the Missionary's view of said person. You have lost about ten brownie points. Did your I.Q. level just drop? Did you just get 3 inches shorter? Now that I think of it, you kind of smell. And your brow is protruding ominously over your eyes.


I'm just kidding. I started that paragraph trying to make a point, but then I couldn't stop my nasty facetious personality from taking control of the keyboard. Do understand, there's no one I look down on that much. Especially not someone who unknowingly walked into the Danger Zone of a sarcastic, talkative, I-know-everything redhead. Really though, roughly half of the MK's in Africa you'll come across will be annoyed by this question. And practically all of the ones I talked to found the question very hard to answer.

My response is usually a smile with a connotative 'All kinds of stuff. How's the continent of North America been lately?'



The Part II of this post is coming up where I will provide solutions for the problem I have brought up. Mean while, do refrain from asking the question.

Coffee and Babies

This caught my eye - being in contact with malnurished babies has shown me the real-life tragedy that it is - and how hard it can be for a mother to rise out of poverty with an infant on her hip! Kindly take a moment and at the very least, pretty please,  look at this website and at what these organizations are doing! And if you like coffee, you might as well save a little life while you drink it. I mean, come on! Drink a cup of 100% Arabica roast and know it helped save someone's life? Everybody wins. And even if you're totally heartless  ... ?

                                                               IT'S COFFEE.

Wanna see a description of Compassion's Child Survival Program? Click on this link: http://www.compassion.com/how-we-work/child-survival-program.htm

 

 

Wanna see the coffee options? Click on THIS link:

http://www.coffeeonline.org/coffeeshop/Coffee_Selection/

 

 

To see who else Coffee Online supports, click here:

http://www.coffeeonline.org/coffeeshop/Who_Benefits.html

 

 

 

For comparison, their coffee is the same price (US $11.99) as a bag of Starbucks French Roast. The difference?

 

This is a not-for-profit organization that saves the lives of adorable little baby boys and girls whose lives would suck more than you could imagine if nobody liked coffee. Just sayin'.