Georgia. Oklahoma. Guatemala. Europe. Haiti. New Orleans. Morocco. Virginia. India. Sri Lanka. Texas.
Places that have changed some part of me. Places where God has shown me what true poverty, wealth, corruption, effective education, devastation, hospitality, community, cultural differences and human similarities all look like. And He's confirmed over and again His desire for his children to know Him and what His Son has done for them.
When I'm laying in bed fully awake because the street dogs barked through the night, the neighbors next door started banging pots in the kitchen for breakfast and the construction workers outside have started drilling through concrete, I have three choices:
Homesickness is grieving, and that's okay.
It's missing people, places, things and ways. It's showing yourself that you do love someone or something enough that it hurts. It shows who you are missing that you care about them. It shows that you are human.
Jesus was homeless. Yeah, he struggled. He was known for healing and teaching so much that people would always flock to him like a celebrity and he would struggle to find time alone. He was homesick as well as oppressed. I bet the disciples annoyed him at times. I'm thinking when he cursed the fig tree he was "hangry" (hungry + angry). And as the man of sorrows he certainly grieved!
So you and I are not alone in these feelings. It's not like we're talking to a god that's manmade. We're talking with the God who created us in His image and who really knows and feels what we're going through.
I can already tell you that I will miss my parents more than anyone else on the face of the earth. I'll also miss the little things -- chatting with girl friends in the local coffee shop, wearing boots in the fall, free water at restaurants, cheese, makeup for pale people -- that truly become big things when you don't have access to them.
I feel uncomfortable when I don't know how to communicate because I don't know the language yet, where toilet paper is not a thing, people are always staring, and when some try to take advantage of us monetarily and make fun of how we look.
But I will make every effort to choose to be thankful. Thankful that I'll be living in beautiful green tea plantations, that some signs are in English, they have clothes for cheap, they sell fresh food in the marketplace, and that I can use my skills for Him in this place.
Here's an article I found that was very helpful for anyone who is in the process of grieving (whether you've accepted it or not): Outlawed Grief, A Curse In Disguise.
From living overseas and now moving once again in two weeks, I'd like to think that "Home is where the people I love are," or "Home is where family, friends and community reside". I'm okay with that. But is that really what we think it means? Have we made the mistake in putting our identity into where we are from: "Where the home is, there our identity is also"?
When I'm laying in bed fully awake because the street dogs barked through the night, the neighbors next door started banging pots in the kitchen for breakfast and the construction workers outside have started drilling through concrete, I have three choices:
- I can accept the noises and disturbance of a schedule that makes me uncomfortable and find things that I am thankful for.
- I can begrudgingly tolerate it and over time just get plumb annoyed.
- I can become annoyed instantly and refuse it as a wave of homesickness knocks me out for the rest of the day.
Homesickness is grieving, and that's okay.
It's missing people, places, things and ways. It's showing yourself that you do love someone or something enough that it hurts. It shows who you are missing that you care about them. It shows that you are human.
Jesus was homeless. Yeah, he struggled. He was known for healing and teaching so much that people would always flock to him like a celebrity and he would struggle to find time alone. He was homesick as well as oppressed. I bet the disciples annoyed him at times. I'm thinking when he cursed the fig tree he was "hangry" (hungry + angry). And as the man of sorrows he certainly grieved!
So you and I are not alone in these feelings. It's not like we're talking to a god that's manmade. We're talking with the God who created us in His image and who really knows and feels what we're going through.
I can already tell you that I will miss my parents more than anyone else on the face of the earth. I'll also miss the little things -- chatting with girl friends in the local coffee shop, wearing boots in the fall, free water at restaurants, cheese, makeup for pale people -- that truly become big things when you don't have access to them.
I feel uncomfortable when I don't know how to communicate because I don't know the language yet, where toilet paper is not a thing, people are always staring, and when some try to take advantage of us monetarily and make fun of how we look.
But I will make every effort to choose to be thankful. Thankful that I'll be living in beautiful green tea plantations, that some signs are in English, they have clothes for cheap, they sell fresh food in the marketplace, and that I can use my skills for Him in this place.
Here's an article I found that was very helpful for anyone who is in the process of grieving (whether you've accepted it or not): Outlawed Grief, A Curse In Disguise.
From living overseas and now moving once again in two weeks, I'd like to think that "Home is where the people I love are," or "Home is where family, friends and community reside". I'm okay with that. But is that really what we think it means? Have we made the mistake in putting our identity into where we are from: "Where the home is, there our identity is also"?
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| Sleep deprived in India - I'd say I was feeling #2 in this photo. |
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