it’s been almost a week since I’ve been back on American soil, and I can’t lie,  I’m having a harder time with “re-entry” than normal.  I wrote this post in the Amersterdam airport half way back from Uganda, and it’s fitting.  It’s part of why I feel uncomfortable.  here and there.

africa.

 it has changed me.  it has opened my eyes.  it has gotten into my soul.  it’s given me a peace that I could never have expected.

there’s so much I could say about this great land that I now think of as my second home.  Ethiopia, Uganda, Rwanda, all beautiful countries in the continent of Africa that have my heart.

 

The days leading up to every trip back to East Africa, I start to get nervous.  excited nervous, but also nervous nervous.  I can’t even put words to it.  It doesn’t seem real that this place has captured so much of my heart, and maybe somedays I wish that feeling wasn’t real.  

 

there isn’t really anything that’s comfortable about being in a third world country.  When you step off that plane, you leave the comforts of home behind.

 

no starbucks, no target runs, no chick fill drive thru, no fresh produce from HEB, no phones to call home every time you just need to talk to your family for a second.

 

the roads are janky, the food is different, the bed isn’t yours.

 

there’s no YMCA to go workout at and the church service on Sunday is held outside on a front porch with 1 acoustic guitar and a worship leader that sings off key.

 

there’s no air conditioning in the car, and you haven’t washed your bath towel all week.

there’s no dishwasher, and you drink your wine out of a coffee mug.

 

sometimes the power goes out, which means the internet goes out, and all you are left with are your own thoughts.  

 

you own thoughts.

I think that’s one of the things I love most about Africa,

un plugged from the busyness of life at home.

Without wifi on your phone when you leave the house.

sitting outside under the twinkle lights talking.

telling stories.  laughing.  crying.  playing games.

ENGAGING with each other.

 

although “uncomfortable”,  I’ve come to love this place so much.

I feel comfortable here, despite all the uncomfortableness.  

I like the janky roads, I like the unpolished church service, I like drinking a cold coke out of a bottle, and putting gnut sauce on everything.

I like the simplicity of life a mist the complexities of the problems that abound.

life is about life here.

it’s about family.  it’s about god,  it’s about people.

it’s about serving people, walking with people, loving people.

it’s not about comfort.

it’s not about me.

it’s not about easy.

 I’m still processing these things.  More to come.