My Sacrifice of Praise

I was recently asked how it felt to be back in the States, knowing that I wouldn't be going back to Tanzania with my parents. Ever since then, I have asked myself over and over, What is it like to be back? What are all these emotions that I find myself facing from one moment to the next? And where did they come from?! So... to be completely honest, I don't know how I feel.

What I DO know is that the hole in my heart has slightly decreased in size, and I know that I still fight moments of feeling like a fish out of water. (Although I don't know what a fish feels when it gets out of water, I'm sure it would feel like I have felt in the past few months.) For those of you who have never experienced this, let me explain: It's like walking in the fog, and gasping for air, yet knowing you are breathing just fine.

Seriously, how does one stand in a church with keyboards, cushioned pews, choirs and all the 'normal' things that can be found in an American church and worship, when all I can hear in is the sound of a African drum? I think that has been one of the hardest things I've faced so far. To stand in such a 'normal' place, yet every part of my being is longing to be in a mud hut, to listen to the sound of bucket being beaten, to balance on a rickety bench, and just to be back in MY 'normal'.
Instead, I find that I'm going through the motions of 'church'. I stand with the congregation, I raise my hands, fumble my way through the latest 7-11 worship chorus and have a migraine headache due to the stench of perfume, that some dear soul decided to bathe in that morning. Going through the motions?! Yes - I admit there are times when going through the motions is all I can do, because going through the motions is alot easier to deal with than falling apart. Sometimes going through the motions is all I have to give. Sometimes I fail to find the words to pray, so I just close my eyes, and let my heart do the praying. Sometimes it is just easier to sit in the closet (Thank you Lord for a walk in closet) and let everything just fade away, rather than offer my sacrifice of praise.
During a recent church service, somebody told me, 'You are so African', and I wanted to fall apart and bawl my eyes out. Of course I'm African; Africa still makes my heart beat, it still brings a smile to my face, and still causes my eyes to flood; Africa is still the home of my heart. So I pulled out my 'This-Is-My-Happy-Face-Mask', dusted it off, tied it on with a pretty little bow and politely nodded, all the while falling apart on the inside. I quickly closed my eyes and continued fumbling my way through yet another song that I didn't know, and made the decision to offer my sacrifice of praise. My sacrifice of 'Lord I showed up today, so YOU need to do the same'. Yes, it hurt to smile, to stand and to sing, to offer this new normal as my sacrifice of praise.
Through the tears, and through the hurt, and as I try to figure out this new 'normal'...I praise.

Hello America

Wow - what a journey it has been. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. I will probably write a more in-depth post about what it's like to be back, but for now.... here are a few of my favorite moments thus far, in no particular order.

Talking on skype with Sister #3 in London.
Walking off the plane in Chicago... and was suddenly infused with a rush of adrenaline, knowing that all the pieces of this puzzle would finally be in place.
Seeing my sisters through the glass door at Lambert International Airport.
Watching Sister #3 run towards me, as I ran to her to give her the biggest hug since January.
The group hug that I shared with ALL my sisters.
Being the first one to see the girls. (Mom and Dad were getting the rental.)
Laughing hysterically in Taco Bell with my Mom and sisters, as Dad just sat there and shook his head.
The talking over, interrupting, loud and extremely chaotic conversations that we shared sitting in the living room... as a entire family.
Singing Christmas songs, just for the pure enjoyment that it brings me... knowing that it annoys the other 3/4.

Stay tuned for many more moments of R happenings.

Well folks... it's official.

The time has come when I must pack my bags, and bid farewell to this beautiful place. I will be leaving Tanzania in exactly 2 weeks.

As Mks, we've all said many goodbyes. Some were happy, some were tearful. Some were easy, and some were not. Let me assure you that this particular goodbye found it's home in the 'NOT' category.

Reality has yet to sink in but the hole in my heart is already huge. How does one so casually say good-bye to a country and people who have so aptly grown to be part of who you are? I don't think that it can be done.

So for now, I'm going to be packing my bags, shedding my tears, and humming 'Happy Christmas' as I count down the days. Why? Because right now it is too painful to digest the fact that I have to leave my 'home', so that I can go 'home'. It's too scary to think about starting college and getting a job when I'm so confused about the future. Because I know there will come a day when excitement will be replaced with dread, and the joy of seeing my sisters will be replaced with the pain of leaving Mom and Dad.


So now - just let me stay here singing my Christmas songs, and just let the excitement build. Because reality comes to quick, and goodbyes take to long.