Respite.

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?

1^st trip = new experiences. Returning brought a distaste for “normal” and motivation to grow more, change more and to bring others back.

2^nd trip = connecting friends at home to friends in India. Returning brought motivation to keep going, keep sharing, etc.

3^rd trip = harsh conditions and heartache. Returning brought grief and anger and frustration.

4^th trip = celebration and joy. Returning brought renewed sense of purpose and encouragement.

5^th 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.