night drive

Memory seeps from my veins . . .

It’s late and I’m driving 75 down the fluorescent-lit interstate.  I’m lost in my thoughts as the miles fly behind me.  I’m here, but in my mind I’m thousands of miles away.
I’m in Addis on a late night, looking out the smudged taxi window as we travel through the night-barren streets at 40.  Then, I’m thinking about life—about how big it is, how uncertain I am about my future, how I’m not sure how to leave.  We make the big roundabout turn towards my home, under the bridge, down the rough rocky road, up to the big grey gate that hides the house.  I pay the taxi driver $4, say thank you, unlock the metal door, and step inside the quiet compound.
I shake my head, trying to chase the memories away.  I’m thinking about life, about how to live here, how to savor the good and accept the hard.  I turn my blinker on, smoothly take the curve onto my street, hit the garage door button, and pull in.  I unlock the green door and step into the quiet house.

lyrics by Sarah McLachlan

Being and moving

I’m still alive.  Life has had a lot of ups and downs lately as I’ve wrestled with re-adjustement/re-entry/culture shock.  I still don’t savor the idea of malls, wal-mart, and small talk.  But I am beginning to understand that this stage was also part of my calling to Ethiopia.  I don’t like this part and want it to be over with (quickly) but must learn that this, too, is just a tiny part of the call to suffer, to be, to experience, to grow as we journey through this broken world.  I still wish I could just go to Addis for the weekend, that I could be more connected to a place that has become such a huge part of me.  But I’m grateful for the small things–email with co-workers, a phone chat with friends, photos and stories that remind me of the richness of life there.

I’m in Baltimore right now and have just spent a fun evening interspersed with speaking bits of Amharic.  I miss this being a part of another place, the laughter and jokes over coffee with the project staff.  But tonight was a reminder that maybe there is a way to morph these worlds and press on in what I’ve been called to.

Tomorrow I head to Pennsylvania for disaster response training.  If I survive the camping and the mosquitoes then I’ll report back in a few days:-)

And later this summer, I will move to Dallas to attend Baylor University’s graduate nursing program!  I’m glad to know where to plant myself for this next season of life and am excited about what is in store there.  It’s going to be different than the last two years, yes; but it, too, will be a rich time of learning and growing and being.