We are home. Over 26 hours of travel from Livingstone, Zambia to Atlanta, Georgia. The sun chased us home, finally catching up with our plane as we landed just before dawn yesterday. To see my children running toward me at the airport, to hug my husband at last, was exhilarating. And yet, to say that I am exhausted is an understatement. I know all of our team is. I finally crashed into bed about 6 p.m. yesterday and slept solid for 12 hours.
But even more than my physical exhaustion, my emotional exhaustion has me drained. I had hoped to write a moving, maybe even inspiring post today, summarizing my experience in Africa. But now I know that I can’t summarize it. I can’t even put words together this morning, not the words I’d like. All I can say is that I am still processing. I arrived home with an overwhelming mix of emotions, some I never expected to feel, and my heart is sore this morning. It has been broken, not by someone, but for someone. Here I am, home with my husband and kids, home where I should feel safe, even elated, where I should feel like “me”. But I’m finding that I don’t know who Me is. I knew this trip would be life changing. I naively failed to realize how that change would leave me feeling so unfamiliar within my own skin.
I scheduled these next couple of days off work, thank God. I will be spending them with my family. I’m not checking emails or returning voice mails until Wednesday. Clients and friends, I thank you for your patience. I just need this time to rest, recharge, and redefine. The staff, women, and children at Wiphan have a responsorial saying. “God is good all the time … all the time, God is good.” I’m focusing on that this week. It certainly has new meaning for me.
For now, I can say this:
The world got much smaller for me these past ten days, and God got much, much bigger. I will never be the same. Life will never be the same.
