Thursday, April 6, 2017

Monachopsis

 The other day I accidentally used a South African word for something and it sort of caught me off guard. For some reason, I momentarily forgot where I was. And I had to chuckle. It's been a while since that happened. Because I love being home. As much as I complain about school I'm thankful to be getting a great education. I don't take lightly the community around me that I miss so dearly when I'm traveling. And who can complain about living in a state where I can go to Disneyland, hike Yosemite, or sit by the waves on any given day off? Who wouldn't want to know that in a few years they will have a dynamic career with a variety of choices? Sure I love it. Sure I want it. It's that dearly loved American Dream. But something just hasn't been sitting right lately. Do you ever glance around you and feel the most out of place in your own environment? Because I do. I often feel like I am in the wrong place. I want school. I want to enjoy being here. But do you know what I want more?! I want the chaos of traveling without perfect plans, with last minute changes and things happening beyond my control. I want a life where I'm always on a trip that is unpredictable. Meetings that require a drive without GPS-just a paper map and the adventure of figuring out how to find my destination. I want to be living on support in a way that forces me to draw near to Jesus because it's all on Him. To be filthy dirty because I've been loving on and playing with kids during the day. To listen to 4 languages every time I go to the store. To be exhausted from a long drive on a dirt road to get to a family I need to check on. To spend days with a worn out missionary or leader who's been working too long and hard, talking and hashing out the junk and pain of life and ministry with Jesus by our side while we hike in a reserve with Zebra and little naughty monkeys in the trees until they experience breakthrough and healing. To live simply without all the wifi and people with phones in their faces everywhere you go. To have unrushed conversations. To get up to birds chirping, taking a walk in the dead quiet, never knowing what kind of large lizards or other creatures you'll run across. To be frustrated by "Africa time" when you have a meeting and to hunker down during load shedding in the hot sticky evenings, no electricity. Only a candle, some art supplies and a book to entertain you. To drive into town in the morning and then to pass up Zebra and Giraffe on your way to the townships in the afternoon, going from one world to a complete different one in half and hour. To wonder each morning exactly what he Lord has planned for that day and to be open to it and excited about it rather than to drive to the office to a desk and a daytimer filled with appointments. To live in a culture where people call or show up unexpectedly. To be at the ready for your plan being changed in one quick moment. Is it easier here? In a lot of ways. Do I want it here? In a lot of ways. But I want the messy, dirty, frustrating, beautiful stuff more.