Today marks the 2nd week of our home coming. I can’t find my heart. I know it’s physically in my body, but it surely isn’t beating. I left it somewhere among the kids at Bridges, or the women at WEEP; somewhere in Kisii it calls for me. Don’t get me wrong. I love coming back, catching up with my friends, jumping in my comfy cozy bed at night, calling mom and dad at whim, using the internet at will and sneaking into a stocked kitchen for a snack at night. I love that the WalMart is down the street and my church is 7 minutes driving distance. I love that the air is fresh, and the streets are clean and gas is only ‘almost’ $4 a gallon. I even love my little daily routine.
But, my heart isn’t in it. It waits for me among the acacia trees, the sewage-filled gutters, the dirty-happy-singing-dancing children and the people that believe Jesus will heal, Jesus will provide food, and Jesus will bring hope. It calls for me from the slums of Kibera and Gnong, the fields of Kiliti and the beauty of Bungoma.
Lord, you have stolen that which beats 82 times a minutes to keep me alive and given it to those that bring laughter, tears, joy and freedom. Knowing you do nothing without purpose, I take a deep breath, put one foot in front of the other, a smile on my face and make my choice. I can wallow in my grief or choose to accomplish something for Your Kingdom while I await the fruition of Your promise. I choose life and that in abundance. Thank you that you’ve given me 2 wonderful places to call home & that no matter where I am You also abide. Always and forever. You and me.