I made it back home last night. My parents came to pick me up at O’Hare, and we did a quick stop at Happy Joes for their famous Taco Pizza I have been craving for weeks. I had a great night’s sleep and have a hope that a “normal” schedule is in my near future.
I have led several groups on overseas mission trips before, and have always given advice on re-entry into the US after a trip. This is a situation where I really need to practice what I have preached to others. Culture shock and processing has been a little bit more overwhelming than I had expected.
I apologize for not being able to update my blog. I tried several times while on the trip. Internet connections were few and far between as was time to do it. I was able to journal and hope to share some stories and experiences with you in the coming days.
I met so many people and was able to see many children. They all have a story. Some stories were of hope and some of sadness. My mind is consumed with those stories. Their faces haunt me and the melodies of their songs and voices play over and over in my head. I miss them. I even miss the smell and sight of diesel exhaust in the city. The same smell and sight that I disliked upon arrival.
The flight from Paris to Chicago was long. It was about 9 hours, but felt more like 2 days. It was so cold on the plane. Everyone bundled up in those thin blankets for dear life. At one point I put my blanket completely over my head. It seemed as though that would be the only way to heat my face and nose that were like ice cubes. When I put the blanket over my head, I was instantly transported back to Africa. It was cool there at night. Were the children I met warm at that moment? Were they hungry? Where they scared for yet another night? The tears flowed down my face like a rapid river. I was suddenly glad the blanket was over my head and hiding my sadness from others on the plane.
All the stories came back to me. I wondered…. Was the medicine for the so very sick child with Malaria starting to work? Will she live? Is the family of young children getting enough to eat tonight? Are the children sleeping in wet beds from the rain? Did the girls at the shoe making school make it home safely and avoid the rapists on the street today? What about the children drinking water from the mud puddle? Did it make them sick? My heart bled tears for them all.
Needless to say, I am processing a lot. God is good though. He reminded me that His eye on the sparrow, knows every hair on each of their heads, and never rescues any of us too soon or too late from our troubles. I have no idea how He rises and sets the sun every day, but He does and He does it so well. His timing is perfect, and He is in control.
I have led several groups on overseas mission trips before, and have always given advice on re-entry into the US after a trip. This is a situation where I really need to practice what I have preached to others. Culture shock and processing has been a little bit more overwhelming than I had expected.
I apologize for not being able to update my blog. I tried several times while on the trip. Internet connections were few and far between as was time to do it. I was able to journal and hope to share some stories and experiences with you in the coming days.
I met so many people and was able to see many children. They all have a story. Some stories were of hope and some of sadness. My mind is consumed with those stories. Their faces haunt me and the melodies of their songs and voices play over and over in my head. I miss them. I even miss the smell and sight of diesel exhaust in the city. The same smell and sight that I disliked upon arrival.
The flight from Paris to Chicago was long. It was about 9 hours, but felt more like 2 days. It was so cold on the plane. Everyone bundled up in those thin blankets for dear life. At one point I put my blanket completely over my head. It seemed as though that would be the only way to heat my face and nose that were like ice cubes. When I put the blanket over my head, I was instantly transported back to Africa. It was cool there at night. Were the children I met warm at that moment? Were they hungry? Where they scared for yet another night? The tears flowed down my face like a rapid river. I was suddenly glad the blanket was over my head and hiding my sadness from others on the plane.
All the stories came back to me. I wondered…. Was the medicine for the so very sick child with Malaria starting to work? Will she live? Is the family of young children getting enough to eat tonight? Are the children sleeping in wet beds from the rain? Did the girls at the shoe making school make it home safely and avoid the rapists on the street today? What about the children drinking water from the mud puddle? Did it make them sick? My heart bled tears for them all.
Needless to say, I am processing a lot. God is good though. He reminded me that His eye on the sparrow, knows every hair on each of their heads, and never rescues any of us too soon or too late from our troubles. I have no idea how He rises and sets the sun every day, but He does and He does it so well. His timing is perfect, and He is in control.
Thank you again for your support and patience to hear about the experience. I hope to write more soon and even get some pictures up if possible. I saw the Lord working in the lives of so many in Africa. It was an honor to take the love and support of each of you with me there.
