I’m back….home. After being….home.
I looked forward to Africa with MUCH excitement! When I booked the tickets in July, I literally drove my office crazy with the announcement every hour, and stopped just short of turning cartwheels in the halls!
As time wore on, my excitement did not dwindle, but was put to the side as responsibility took over, work piled on and the normal every day demands of life weedled their way back in. The last two weeks before I got on the plane were a flurry of last minute shopping, wrapping up projects, preparing both work and home for my three week absence, and trying to see everyone that needed to be seen before I left, as well as holiday festivities and the normal every day demands of life.
People kept asking “Aren’t you so excited?” To which my reply was “I am sure I will be..I just have to get this done!”
I got on the plane on December 17th, knowing that my parents were on the other side of the water waiting for me to disembark. I rested my head on the seat, took a deep breath and started crying. I was going to miss several gatherings of friends, 4 church services (including a candlelight service that I LOVE to be a part of), my aunt’s house in North Carolina, and countless other little things that make up Christmas when I am “home”.
The tears quickly went away however, in the anticipation of seeing my family.
After a 10 hour layover in London, where I found out that Big Ben is not as big as I thought it was and that the Prime Minster has a much prettier tree than Buckingham Palace,(more on this day later) I was once again on a plane and bound for “home”.
I breezed through customs having nothing to declare but that I was so glad to be back in Africa! I saw my dad at first glance and rushed into the arms of my mother! What joy! I was home!
We made our way through Johannesburg and down the highway to the border and across. We drove up the driveway and I walked into my parent’s house.
Our time together was lovely and my next post I’ll write about our time at the game reserve and the magnificence that is seeing animals in the creation that God made for them.
I enjoyed every moment with my mom and dad. We laughed, cried, prayed, watched lots of Monk, sang and even danced together. My time spent with my brothers was sweet, and I had the pleasure of meeting their friends and getting to know them better.
But as the days went by rather than longing to stay, my heart was longing for “home”.
Soon the day came that I was to get back on the plane.  As mentioned in previous blog, the gravitational pull once again separated my heart leaving half of it in the red soils of Africa.  I rested my head on the back of the seat, took a deep breath and started crying. I wanted so badly to stay, yet I wanted so badly to go.
I landed in the US after a brief few days in London (again more on this later), and after breezing through customs because I had nothing to declare except that I was glad to be back in the United States…..I was “home”.
My heart cries out for the land of Africa. As was written in a past blog it is only there that my heart feels completely whole. But then when I am there, my mind and soul dwell on what is going on in Dallas, and grieves that I am not there.  This is the conundrum of third culture kids from Abraham’s time until now.  This is who we are, no matter where we are we are always on the wrong side of the planet.  As Monk would say, “it is a blessing, AND a curse.”
I am looking forward to the day when we are all HOME!  When I can sit at the feet of Jesus surrounded by all that I love and we will be in one place at one time. What an amazingly glorious day that will be….Until then my heart will continue to long for “home”.