In my head

It's been a little over a month. And I think I've slipped back in a little too easily. Actually, I haven't really given much thought to what has happened and where I've been. It's been hard to make myself go there mentally. It's safer to just live like nothing has changed. Because really, not much has changed here. America remains the same and being an American is what I'm good at. Everything else has become a distant memory.

And then every once in a while something will catch me off guard- something that triggers an intense memory and I'll remember where I've been and what I've come through. As much as I try to not think about it, my heart remembers. And it hurts for what I'm in the process of losing. The people I've left and the ideas and routines and everything about my time spent there.

It is easy to be back. It is hard to be back. The whole time I was in Mali, I longed for home. I had memories of being happy and safe and sure of myself. Now that I'm back, it's been hard to find those feelings again. Because I'm not often happy and I don't feel very safe or sure of myself at all. I feel awkward and lost and frustrated. Although America seems unchanged, my life as it was has changed. Who I was here is no longer who I am. My family grew up without me, my friends have all gone different directions, I no longer go to school, I no longer work or live where I used to. Sometimes I feel so unsettled that my stomach feels sick. I don't know what I'm doing or how to do what I should be doing. But worst of all, I don't want to do anything. If I had a remote for life, I'd push pause. And not have to move forward or look backward. I'd just be. Maybe that's what heaven will be like. Just being with Him, no pressing agenda or clock constantly reminding you that it's time to do something.

The deepest I've felt since being back has been at home. And by home I mean at home with the body. Home is the only word that I can attach to what overwhelms me. The music isn't always particularly moving and most of my friends no longer attend, but God is there. And people who love Him are there. There's something powerful about returning to a body that you've grown up with, about worshiping God with your family, about being together and sharing, joining your love for Him. My Spirit is so thirsty and my heart is so moved. I still have a hard time singing the words, getting the words past the lump in my throat. But I love being there. I love being lifted up, I love not being on my own in my journey. Thank you.