We're Back

We’re back and I can honestly say it’s good to be home, but it took me awhile to find this happy place. When we flew from New York I was still recovering from the stress of last year and going right back into battle and I was nervous. But, I needed time back in Nigeria to heal as much as I needed time away. I needed to be reminded of the good here. I needed the slower African life combined with the dog days of summer to get to the heart of the matter.

That first week I had to give myself a lot of grace and be okay with not being okay. Then, one morning in church, a quote from Spurgeon opened my eyes.

“A true prayer is
an inventory of needs
a catalog of necessities
an exposure of secret wounds
a revelation of hidden poverty.”

Last year for me was a revealing of hidden poverty. Well, actually pride that was crushed into poverty. Areas in life where I had always felt confident, competent and comfortable were challenged, rebuked and crushed. The combination of learning a foreign culture, Embassy culture and solo home schooling in one of the hardest places we could be assigned to was a triple threat that left me spent.

Areas of life that take little to no thought in the US take up major energy and time here. The dailies of life: budgeting, food prep, grocery shopping, clothes shopping, and internet service can be stifling. (Notice I didn’t mention house cleaning or dish washing? I have Esther full time this year and it is glorious. Grace ALWAYS shows up.)

Vendors trying to sell you something, beggars asking for a handout, gardeners cutting down shade trees for no apparent reason, over paying or under paying help because there isn’t a standard. Deciding whether or not it is worth the emotional energy it to bargain and being okay with paying the “white man” price. Driving in a combination of frogger and Super Mario Cart and having the courage to weave your way through a gridlocked intersection, not hit the break when a mama with a baby on her back runs across the expressway or have the self-control not to run the red light when the three cars in front of you do.

Moving to Nigeria has shown me how much I idolize control and how little control I really have. It took moving to here to bring me to the end of myself, which once you get there is actually a nice play to be because the pressure is off.  There is no area in my life where I am going to get it right every time and coming to grips with that is freeing. The more I mess up (and survive) the more grace I have for myself and for others which I think is the whole point. Because that “I’ve got this” girl didn’t need Jesus nearly as much as this “I don’t know what I’m doing” girl. And this new girl? I think I’m going to like her a lot.