Last night I was jet lagged and sad. So sad, in fact, that this is what I wrote:
Pieces of me are all over the world.
Right now my life feels like a
messed up,
screwed up,
piece of travel warped craziness.
32 hours.
5 Airports.
A frozen tundra when we enter,
a tropical heatwave when we exit.
A DIFFERENT WORLD.
How can I live so far
from so many I love?
When did I get used to
NOT
having them around?
THEY
are the
ones
who
have been through the most…
THE LEAVING.
I’VE put an ACTUAL (insanely large) distance
in miles
in kilometers
in oceans
between my children
and
the people
who
love
them
MOST
in this world
(aside from us).
We made a choice for a different life…
but I miss them.
There is no more audience for my kids.
They change and grow without much external fanfare…
aside from our claps.
Which seem feeble
when compared to grandparent claps.
And sometimes,
at 3am,
when I have jet lag…
I wonder if it was the right choice.
Why do we put ourselves through it?
Can I handle another night of tears?
Tears from all of us.
Tears for grandparents,
cousins,
uncles,
and several awesome aunties in South Africa.
Is it right?
Is it wrong?
Or is it just what it is.
And then, after some sleep, I looked at the images above and I remembered. Life is not all about me. It’s about the things we believe in. The CHOICES we make to fulfill those beliefs. The ONE above that I have surrendered to, and the JOURNEY that we are on. A journey with a people we don’t yet understand. And you know what? Even though we don’t understand Burundians yet… I bet they will end up teaching us a whole lot more than we teach them.
Holding onto hope,
Kristy
All images
Hasselblad 501C
Fuji 400/Portra 400
Once, after evacuating Somalia and moving through two more countries before settling in our fourth, I wrote (forgive the cliche!): “If home is where the heart is, mine is all over the world. In pieces.” Your first line reminded me of this. It is a sweet and tender pain.
Rachel, glad to have you in my cheese filled boat! Thank you :)
I miss my dad so much and I am sad that my boys won’t be able to share their lives anymore with him. No weddings, no college graduations, no great grandchildren to let grandpa love…and yet it so painful because we shared so much before he passed…and then I reflect and am grateful…for those moments shared. I read your post and my heart ached for yours and I want you to know that there are people that care about your sacrifice. Of course our Savior cares, but we do too. Thank you sharing the light of Jesus in a dark place.