We left Africa a week ago. It came and left so fast, I can hardly believe it. We spent three months in Africa, first in Mozambique, then in Swaziland and we finished our final month in South Africa. To sum it up, Johnny and I were riding on a roller coaster the entire time. Each day felt like a new visit to the amusement park. One minute we are up, the next we are down. One of us is up, the other is down. It would go back and forth like this, switching, leaving us tired, confused and homesick.
An overwhelming heaviness encompassed me. It felt like I was in a small, dark box… trapped, with all these other people dancing, singing and enjoying themselves outside. Sometimes I felt like I was standing in the middle of the room, screaming, but no one could hear me. My mind slowly felt like it was being taken from me, each thought fleeting or as if a veil was covering and preventing it from it’s very purpose. All that was left to be understood was tangible. I could feel it with my hands, see it with my eyes or hear it with my ears. But my mind felt useless. If a thought became complete, it would bring clarity, but soon after it would be forgotten. Leaving me back to the very place I started.
To get real honest, I wanted to be home. I felt like home would bring back clarity, comfort and purpose. I would often ask myself how far this feeling was going to take me before it sent me home. How much more do I endure before I give in? I’d feel a sense of relief at the thought of home. Mom or Dad. Rocky, my dog. An open road. A new start. Although home felt like freedom, there was a sense of selfishness involved. I could feel the shallowness of the comfort I desired. Against all my desire, I could tell it was only a temporary solution. But, I wanted it so bad. It was a temptation I struggled with daily.
As I struggled to keep my head above water, Johnny treaded beside me. One of us would begin to sink as the other would work hard to keep us both afloat. And vice versa. It was a supernatural phenomena that was happening, a spiritual attack within our marriage. As soon as Satan lost his grip from a foothold within one of us, he would jump to the other…within the hour. Leaving the next person to begin sinking and gasping for air. The attacks left us tired, weak and fighting to get through the day.
Amongst all of this, it was easy to let ourselves get distracted. We would take every chance to become distracted so that we could escape the battle going on in our minds. Rarely would we choose to fight because this would mean we’d have to face something we felt ill equipped to go up against. So we escaped into physically doing things – hanging out with friends, watching a movie, etc. But the sense of despair grew everyday and we would both wonder how much further can we go. Only three more months, wed say. We can make it, just a little while longer and we will be home.
