Two years ago I left America. I flew for the first time to lots of places and I got really sick on said planes. Though my life up to then had been nothing but un sheltered, I experienced a lot of first times. September two years ago was the first time I left the country. The first time I held a monkey, the first time I lived with people who didn’t speak English, first time hanging out in Hong Kong airport, first time eating Pad Thai in Thailand, first time milking a cow, first time rafting the Nile river, first time holding and seeing orphans, first time building a church…
This list could go forever. The whole year I felt like a rock star. I know it was mostly because I’m white but still it was pretty awesome. Since this first time I’ve been back to places in Africa leading teams. I sank in to that being a normal. The things and life I knew before like my Starbucks job, my friends, my family, the streets I drove on, or driving myself those were gone. I mean they were still here when I came back but in many ways they were gone. In many ways I lost them.
Africa round three this summer was a little over rated. I was over not understanding Africans. I was over community. I was over worrying about booking a bus for all of us and safety. I was over weekly check-ins. I was over not doing what I wanted to do. I was ready to be home by the end of the summer. Though I loved my team and my co-leaders, I was over it. I wanted nothing more than to be in America where things were ‘normal’. Since that day of returning to American soil it hasn’t been greener. I got my first job in two years. That’s just been weird. Really good but weird. Getting paid to serve people when the last two years I did it for free….that’s weird. Realizing that I don’t have an African wanting to spend every moment they can with me, speaking broken English about anything.
The other morning I woke up feeling different than other mornings. I was lighter. And not because I’ve lost massive amounts of weight! I was free. The weirdness of being home and adjusting was falling off slowly. The same ‘nikki’ who was in Africa and traveled can be the same ‘Nikki’ here in GA. My heart has to choose it; it’s not wrong to be where I am. In fact I believe I’m better for being here. This is where I’m suppose to be. I believe the Kingdom is here. I believe I’m changed and the places I go are changed. Not because of me but Christ in me. Though this time adjusting has proven to be more difficult, it’s worth pushing through.
Romans 8:28….It says God works all things out for our good. All things, not just some things but all of them. I don’t know why things happen, good or bad but the word says it works out for our good. This has to be true because God is a God of redemption and reconciliation.
Here’s to the past two years…first times; loosing myself; and believing that THIS builds me for THAT.
