I really don’t know why it surprises me but it does.
This process.
This process of returning home and navigating through
everything. I’m not a longterm missionary. 5 weeks isn’t earth shattering. It
shouldn’t be this hard. It’s shouldn’t take this long. But of course I don’t
really know what it SHOULD or SHOULDN’T be actually. I know this, but this is
how I feel and it’s draped over everything.
You might think I would say it’s like a roller coaster ride, but
that would imply that there’s some aspect of fun to it and that all I have to
do it sit and let it take me where it can. But it’s not like that, it’s more
like piloting a space ship and suddenly entering a storm of asteroids while
trying to pull away from a black hole with my navigation and warp drive equipment
all failing at once.
The black hole: the desire for all of this to be about me.
I’d love to just escape for a few weeks, to get away from all responsibilities
and commitments. To not have to sum up five weeks of India into a 45 second
conversation piece anytime someone asks. The selfishness that invades me right
now is sickening.
The storm of asteroids: all of the THINGS I HAVE to DO. I
HAVE to do them. I HAVE to feed my family. I HAVE to take care of this house. I
HAVE to lead worship. I HAVE to organize a million things. I HAVE to be a good
friend. I HAVE to give up my time for others. I HAVE to force myself out of
bed. I HAVE to stop crying. I HAVE to stop feeling lonely. I HAVE to get to the
other side, to another perspective. I miss the “I GET to” perspective. WHERE
did it go? How did it completely disappear?? When will this end?
And why does every trip have to be so different?
1st trip = new experiences. Returning brought a
distaste for “normal” and motivation to grow more, change more and to bring others
back.
2nd trip = connecting friends at home to friends
in India. Returning brought motivation to keep going, keep sharing, etc.
3rd trip = harsh conditions and heartache.
Returning brought grief and anger and frustration.
4th trip = celebration and joy. Returning brought
renewed sense of purpose and encouragement.
5th trip = sharing my heart {my children} with my
heart {children in India}. Returning has brought about loneliness,
restlessness, apathy, temptation, distraction … which is frustrating because
when I was still there I was ready to conquer the world. Why did a small change
in location and sleeping patterns affect so much? Seriously.
I feel like the rotten king in Narnia needing to yell
“RESPITE! RESPITE!”
I’m thinking of putting it on a t-shirt.
The equipment: I know what I need. I need direction. I need
wisdom. I need action. I need rest. But I can’t pray. I can’t read. I can’t
move. All I can do is cry or shove it down and do my best to survive for a few
minutes. This makes me angry. I don’t have time for this. People around me are
struggling and going through tragedies and surgeries and life altering moments
and I need to be in a better spot to be there for them and all I’m left feeling
is lonely and helpless.
This isn’t pretty or pleasant and I’m sorry you had to read
it. I’m sorry it isn’t uplifting and encouraging. I’m sorry if it’s too honest.
I know it’ll pass even though I don’t know when.
This is
just where I am.
