Release

I have struggled to figure out what to share about my life over the past two months. I realize that I live in Africa, so hypothetically I should be blogging about my travel adventures… Except there’s the small fact that I don’t have many! I did go to a women’s conference last weekend that earned a blog post of its own, but aside from that, my physical life is pretty confined to the 20 acres of land that City of Refuge sits on, with a few trips to the Accra mall to use their internet thrown in.

Two months ago today I stepped on a plane in Los Angeles, California headed for Chicago, then Frankfurt, and finally landed in Accra about 30 hours later. I left LA a wreck, sad to be leaving the States again after a wonderful weekend with the Villalpando’s and just pure exhausted from a 4:00am wake-up call at my hotel and an 11:00pm bedtime the night before. Once in Chicago, I learned that I didn’t have anything to do during my 7 hour layover in Frankfurt, so I started to cry. Tears of exhaustion, tears of frustration… Which continued in the Frankfurt airport 10 hours later. Faced with 7 hours and 11 euros to my name, this layover didn’t look promising. By the time I got to Accra, all I wanted was to see John and Stacy… Luckily the airport was FAST and they found me outside right away.

Little did I know that the moment of stepping off the plane in Accra (or maybe boarding in LA) started the beginning of a whole new journey, completely different from the first time I came into country. I knew what to expect at City of Refuge, I knew what my job was, I knew who my kids were… But now, I am in a season of figuring out who I am. Figuring out what I really do stand for, what I really do believe in… Figuring out how to be brave with the words that I speak, not just with what my fingers can write. I am in a season of growing pains… and it’s beautiful.

It hasn’t all been beautiful. In fact, my first month back was pretty messy… A lot of pleading to God for answers, a lot of loneliness, a lot of frustration, a lack of communication, and a lot of internal dialogue that said “What are you working for? What are your goals in this life? If you died tomorrow, what would people say about your work in this world?” I didn’t have answers… I was just pretty low. My blog “Sacrifice” speaks to moments of this time… Moments that didn’t have such happy endings for the tine being.

But in these depths, God has met me. In this frustration, God has said “Don’t quit on yourself yet.” Even when I did my best to ignore Him after a completely overwhelming run where I felt like I wanted to melt into the ground and never come out, terrified and afraid of His presence and His power… The one thing that has felt consistent is His pursuit of me. From people asking me to pray at certain times to Emily asking me to help her figure out who is who in the nativity set in the library to prayers lavished on me by Jodie from YWAM in the three days they were here to visit… God has been very clear to say “You can run, but you can’t hide. You can say you don’t want anything to do with me right now, but I am everything to do with you, and you will see that when you are ready.” I have tried to hide… Not to run away, but to hide… and, sweetly, He is showing me that it just doesn’t work.

I think the turning point for me in this season might have been the moment that Jodie and I sat on the ground during worship in our lunch area and she spoke over me. She spoke to things that had been going on in my mind the past week or so, not voiced to anyone… She spoke to fears of mine and situations that I didn’t even quite realize were there… But really it wasn’t her speaking, it was God… and it was so clear in that moment. So clear that her words were from Him, because there was no way she could have known these things otherwise. Tears streamed down my cheeks as she spoke, because I knew that these words were Jesus speaking to me. It was beautiful… It was filling… It was needed.

A few weeks ago, I was on a run out towards Doryumu when I realized that my favorite white bird tree was empty… The tree that is usually echoing with squawks around sunset stood bare except for the one black bird that came and hopped around on it. I was so upset… “Where have all the white birds gone and where are all the stars? Where’s my street-wise Holly Bee to ride the trotro car?” I walked home making up this song and laughing to myself, as a few of the birds proceeded to fly over me during that time. Today as I ran, a grin burst out over my face as I realized the birds were back… The birds that remind be of the simple beauty of this place, the intricacy in the simplicity… They are back. And it feels like a piece of me is back… But I also think there are some pieces of me that are here for the first time. Pieces of contentment, pieces of gratitude, pieces of relationship, pieces of belonging… Some of these are coming around for the first time here and it’s beautiful.

Simple beauty is easy to find here. Tonight, I stood in the shadow of the soccer goal directly under Orion’s Belt and a multitude of other stars as I stared at the thin gold-tinted crescent moon directly in front of me…. This afternoon, I witnessed a glowing orange sun set in the middle of fluffy clouds and a pink tinted sky… The faces of Gamali and Florence looking up at me speak for themselves.

Branches has been going through Ecclesiastes for the Lenten season and I have been lucky enough to be able to download the podcasts when we go into town. After a response from Ryan Miller on Monday that said “Ok, you have to listen to yesterday’s message,” I was able to get it on Tuesday and listen on Wednesday morning… and I am so thankful. In his message, Ryan spoke of this feeling of being alive… this feeling of actually LIVING on earth, not simply managing… As sweet Angie Doe spoke of in Keta last week, “We are not called to simply MANAGE!” We are called to life… We are called to being aware of our surroundings… We are called to live in the NOW and seek fullness in what is around us now, not waiting for what “is to come” in order to find happiness… And that calling feels exciting!

I am finally at a point in my classroom where I am starting to see growth in my students… And I am also at a point in my classroom where I am transitioning out. I am training sweet Nina to come in and take my place, hoping to set her up successfully while I am still here in order to prepare the classroom for when I’m not here anymore. While I am sad to be “leaving” these students, I am excited for what will be in store for them with Nina. There is an accent barrier that makes teaching phonics and spelling very difficult, and I think it will be beneficial to them to have someone teaching them who they can actually hear. In this transition, I feel a little stress… I feel a little sad… But I am excited for what is to come. I am excited to have more time to spend with Bismark, time to work ahead with Alex and Florence, time to spend with Pamela… Time to help fill in whatever random roles Autumn needs me to do in the school for the next three months. Oh Lord, I don’t want to leave… Comments are starting to be made about my departure and I can’t talk about it. I can’t think about it, I can’t come to terms with it… Even writing this feels like too much.

All in all, this season feels like a season of release. Releasing some ties that have been holding me back, releasing some relationships that are toxic to me, releasing my classroom, releasing some of my material ties to this world, and releasing myself to God… Allowing myself to live in the moment, thankful for the time that I have and the situations I find myself in. Sometimes, this feels easier than other times… and it certainly is a slow process. But it’s a process of allowing the Holy Spirit to dwell in me… a process of trying to accept the idea of becoming vulnerable… a process of giving up the control that I love so much… It’s a process of figuring out what it means to truly be alive.