I am SO grateful for SIM and the short term program (STA). Friday
morning was spent in prayer, then meeting with the necessary people to close out
my trip—cue the health questionnaire and medical evaluation. This also entailed
a meeting with the finance office. I knew once I returned that random things
would “get” me—teary eyed, nostalgic,
sad, irritated, especially the next few weeks and months. However, I did not
expect the tears that would come at seeing that Nolan (my old friend who passed
away) and Kacie had supported me financially. That was tremendous surprise and
blessing. Another aspect of the debrief was meeting with the heads of the STA and
getting to talk about my time and hear their insights. This was exactly what I
needed and I am so thankful for them—and for the Mexican food we grabbed for
lunch!
After a couple of plane rides I was back in Seattle. As the
escalator rose to the baggage claim area, my head and heart prayed that I would
have the right reaction—one that was joyful at seeing my family and friends—because,
in all honesty, then and even now I am torn to be here. I know the emotional
and mental fatigue, irritability, and confusion are all normal parts of
re-entering my once familiar culture after living in a developing country, but
just like knowing my skin color would make me stand out in Kenya, the reality
still takes you by surprise. I received a warm welcome and was glad to see my
parents and a few friends. I was also blessed to come home to banana muffins
and to the willing listening ears who let me reminisce and show a few pictures.
Saturday was a pleasantly busy day of attempting to sleep in
(thanks, jet lag), and already seeing the reality of one of the re-entry handouts.
It related that while this journey
changed you, others have not had the same experience and you cannot expect them
to understand…but you can share what you experienced and it may influence one
person at a time. This occurred when my neighbor stopped by wanting to borrow
our truck, she related that she was donating some things and was realizing that
she has too much stuff and wanted to not live that way. My dad articulated that
“you are with someone who gets that
completely” referring to my early morning rant that my room was full of crap
and that I wanted to get rid of so much of it.
After she borrowed the truck, she returned and thanked me for my honesty
–for how I shared that coming home from spending time in Kibera opened my eyes
to the fact that all too often at home I unconsciously put my security in
keeping things “just in case” when I really didn’t need them—because after
hearing that she decided to get rid of three more boxes.
The rest of the day was spent going to my favorite coffee
place with my dad and choosing to walk home. While I walked I was grateful for the
time to clear my head and to feel like I was back home in Nairobi, where my
days consisted of lots of walking. Later in the afternoon I was blessed to be
able to share my fragmented memories with our Seattle “family” and was touched
that their oldest, 4 year old daughter, wanted to hear my stories about the
kids in “aprica” and understood the weight of sadness that they didn’t always
have food. The evening was passed at a game night with a few friends and while
it was slightly overwhelming to try and jump back into things, I was thankful
for the insightful questions about my time and observations while in
Kenya. Driving back home, one friend who
understands re-entry shock articulated that she experienced the same thing a
few years ago and was thankful to learn that Jesus understands that we want to
be home in both places that home is where our hearts are. With Jesus in our
lives, our hearts, we can be home anywhere.
So today, I am thankful that my heart is torn, that a big
chunk of it feels home in Kenya. I don’t
want to quench the part of me that wants to hop on the next plane back, scoop
up my kids in bear hugs, and settle back into life on the compound with my Kenya
family. On the flip side, I don’t want
to miss the people, blessings, and tasks God has for me back in Seattle, where
my biological and church families are welcoming me and where I also fit.
Basically, the past couple of days have shown me that it’s okay to have my
heart in two places, and that a necessary part of my journey is accepting that until heaven, I will never
really feel home. This season is a tremendous reminder and example of that.
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