The list of lasts is piling high. And each time we make mention of doing something for the last time, someone laughs. It's funny wrapping up a trip that took 11 months to complete. Some days I'm not that sad because the ache in me to be home is indescribable. And yet I'm terribly sad. Sad that my adventure is over but in the same breath, so excited for tomorrow's sunrise and whatever Jesus has planned. But as I pack my bags and begin to pick up the pieces to the aftermath of four months in Africa, the phrase, TIA rings in my heart, my mind.
This is Africa.
I was in freakin Africa for four of the best and hardest months of my life.
I saw death, birth, life and love.
Jake and Em and I watched Blood Diamond last night and it jolted something in me.
Man. The movies don't do justice to life here.
This is Africa.
We've lived amongst a people that beats for life. They live hard and praise Him harder.
Leo says a line in the movie about how God left this forsaken continent long ago.
But I beg to differ.
Because there is a tenderness amongst these rolling mountains that steals your heart and melts you to pieces. My heart aches for Africa much the way it aches to be with my family. There's a sense of belonging I feel that I haven't felt in other places. Kenya makes my heart race like it did in middle school when that crush would walk past me in the hallway. I love it. I love everything about Africa.
Because This IS Africa.
Good, bad, ugly, happy, sad, poor and rich.
This is Africa.
Take it or leave it, there's something about it that makes me dizzy with love.
I can't get my little buddy, Prince, out of my mind. I think about his life, his parents, his fears, his joys, his future, alot. I'm taking him a Bible tomorrow and though I'm stoked to know he will have it to learn and grow from, there's a part of me that wants to just send it via snail mail.
Because I don't want to say goodbye.
When someone worms there way into your heart, its always painful to say bye and that's how I feel. I feel that way towards Prince, Africa and the Race. But that's simply life. We're not promised tomorrow. Just today. So as I sit here and drink my coffee and laugh about the silly things that ruffle my feathers as sadness manifests itself in my flesh and as I begin to mourn the end of this season, I'll keep saying, thanks, Jesus. TIA, Jesus. TIA.
This is Your Africa, God. Thank you so incredibly much for letting me come. Thank you for making my dreams come true and I'm sorry for the days I was tired or overwhelmed by what I saw. But thank You for what You've taught me and the way my soul sings with love for You and Your creation.
God. Wow. What You've designed for my life, for my team's life, for all of our lives. Wow. It's just so humbling and so thank You. Thank You that when words don't describe it, it's ok because let's get real, You know me in and out and if words don't suffice, You know my heart.
And right now, I'm in awe of You, Lord.
Jesus, the people we've met. The days and hours and minutes, each one was ordained by You. Thank You for speaking to us, for dropping us to our knees and for loving us so well.
I've questioned, I've cried, I've laughed and I've sung. I can't wait to see what You have planned in my future because I don't know how You'll top this, but I know You will. Your promises for our lives are incredible. And true. I feel so full from the precious gift You have given me in this year. I'll be honest, it's been hard. But they were lessons and growth that needed to happen. It made me wake up and get over myself. It exposed pride and goo from a messy past and then redemption rained down as You romanced me in ways I didn't know were possible.
I gained perspective, self respect, and a Best Friend in a Savior who is nuts about me.
And so, This is Africa.
This is life.
Thanks, God. Wow.
