in transition

17 days.

That is how long we've been sailing the wide open waters of the sea. Long enough to get bored at times. And yet wondering if its enough... enough time to process all that has happened. First, the six months in Togo, then the quick month at home, and now all that lies ahead.

I wasn't expecting to return from my trip home and feel a sense of disclosure, for the lack of a better word.

The sort-of "last-minute" decision to go home, left the last month in Togo a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts turned toward home. Excitement and anticipation overcame the need to say good-bye. Goodbye to nurses that I've worked alongside and supported over the last several months; many who became friends. Goodbye to our local translators who interpreted for me and brightened my day with a smile or greeting, or just their joy. Their love for life brought much laughter, music, and dancing to not only the wards, but to my heart as well. And the patients. Oh, the patients... I didn't get to see them go.

Now I'm back, and I feel like I was cheated in a way. I left the hospital bustling full of patients. I returned to find it quiet and empty, eerie in a way. Where there once were beds lining the walls, are now boxes stacked high atop another. The patients are gone. The translators are gone. And there is less than half the crew remaining. So many left while I was away.

Its taken me about 17 days to articulate this state of mind and heart. To give it a name. I don't have closure. Last year, at the end of our time in Benin I helped discharge many of the remaining patients; saw them off to a local hospital or clinic with all their supplies for their follow-up. I got to attend the good-bye celebration for the Day Volunteers, appreciating their service. And the end of outreach reception, presenting an overview and summary of the outreach. All these things to help bring conclusion to the last six months.

Back from our visit home, I now find myself trying to find perspective. A healthy and realistic perspective of the world we have called home for so long. And the world halfway across the globe that we have lived just shy of two years. I wonder where we fit? There is a battle going on inside my heart. We've been asked over and over what's next, what's after our advance work? Truth is, we don't know. I find myself wondering for the first time in my life where home is. Shoot, that's a little scary. I know we still have several months to figure it out, but I guess the trip home magnified the unknown even more for me, for us.

Today, alas, we have finally arrived (Yay!!). We are going to be in South Africa for six weeks before heading on to the next adventure. I have to admit, I feel like we're in transition. In fact, we've been in transition for the last couple months. Even while visiting home -- next was the sail and then South Africa. Now we are in South Africa. But only for a few weeks. In a far off sort-of way I don't feel like I completely belong anywhere.

And then I look ahead... we have so much to anticipate. We are anxious to start our advance work in Sierra Leone. This overwhelms me at times. There is so much to do in the months ahead. I'm trying to remotely prepare my mind and heart for what I think it might be like or what to expect. Truth is, I don't have the slightest idea.

Thankfully, God knows all these things. :) He also knows my heart, and where I've been and where I'm going. The words of the prophet Jeremiah ring true,

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord.

Plans to give you... a hope and a future.

Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me,

and I will listen to you.

You will seek me and find me with all your heart.

I will be found by you, declares the Lord.