The other day, I was running near a lake when, for some strange reason, it felt like I was back in West Africa. It was something in the warm breeze and the sound of the water and the sun hot on my face that made me close my eyes for a second and think, “Wait, am I in Dallas or somewhere along the coast of West Africa?” And I felt my gut lurch at that thought. “Am I ready to go back?” I wondered.
In less than two months, I’ll be returning to “the field.” My flight is booked, and July 2 I’ll go back to West Africa.
After being in the US for a year-long home assignment, it is with mixed emotions that I prepare to return. It is there that I feel alive in the sense of doing what I was made to do. But it is still here that I feel comfortable. It does not yet feel like I am going “home.” It feels right to go back but not altogether easy.
A year is long enough to settle back into American rhythms and coping mechanisms which I do not have in West Africa. I will have to switch back into that other mode I learned to operate in while in West Africa. I have to trust that I will settle back into those other rhythms and coping mechanisms.
And my fickle, forgetful heart has to trust that God will provide for my every need there as He did when I was there before.