God's Call is All Worth It.

I just got off the phone with my good friend Theresa, who is currently living in Rwanda doing a variety of things like community health assessments, teaching English, and working and playing at the Boys' Home. It was the first time I have spoken to her since she has been there, and it was glorious. She sounded so good and absolutely loves it there. When I called her, she was having lunch with the boys at the Home. The boy that I sponsor, David, was right next to her and told her to tell me that he loves me.

Even though I didn't speak to any of the boys, I could hear the rumblings and the sounds. I could hear loud noises and voices of Rwanda, voices that are largely the cause of my holy discontent, my burden, my heart. I am moving to Rwanda because God has connected my heart to them in a way I cannot explain. I can't communicate with them very well or carry on a conversation. When I arrive there in 9 days I won't have much to say. Which is ironic because my heart feels and says so much about them. But it is not just them that makes the Spirit inside me yearn to go, it is that I am in the midst of God's calling. And there is nothing I would rather do than to follow what God is calling me to. Although it is extremely difficult to sacrifice all that this trip is asking me to give up, it is all worth it.

I Am Heartbroken

I had a cry tonite about my move to Africa. I leave in 10 days. I am heartbroken. I feel as if a piece of my heart is dying. There is so much transition now and I am having a difficult time with it. Just this past week I left my position as Director of Administration, a job that I have occupied for 5 years. I am giving up my car tomorrow because the 3 year lease is up. I am in the process of packing up my house I have owned for almost 2 years. All of these things have proven to be consistent and routine for me, stability in the midst of 2 1/2 years of rockiness, pain, and uncertainty. And for someone who thrives on routine and predictibility, I am very challenged now.

One of the things that I am dreading is saying "goodbye" to those people most important to me. Now, I know that it is not really a "goodbye" but a "see you later." I have every intention of coming back from Africa in December. I will even get to see some of the people who are so near and dear to my heart when they come over to Africa during my stay there. What I am so fearful and anxious about when I do say my "goodbyes" in 10 short days is that I will not be able to convey in words and actions, what I feel in my heart. I have led a pretty remarkable and extremely blessed life over the past two years, a life that I never thought possible. And to a large extent I have my amazing family and friends to thank for this. I want to be able to tell them what they mean to me, how they have blessed my life in ways they hadn't even considered, how it breaks my heart to leave them.

Amongst the empty dresser drawers and the half-packed storage bins, from the empty shelves to the empty carport, there is an even greater emptiness and void that remains in my heart. A heart that is crying itself to sleep tonite.