I'm home

Playing catch up: three posts in one day ;)

Home


Back in Zambia- at last!

I had a lot of people ask me when I was home "does Zambia feel like home now?" Or "do you feel like you don't really have a home anymore?" And I didn't really have a good answer for them... Or at least I didn't have a very thought through answer. Maybe partially because I didn't really know myself... Didn't know my own self... But driving down the great east road with the crazy, scary traffic it was familiar; the smell of sultry afternoon and sweating crowds and steamy pavement mixed with the hustle of a city bursting at its seams, it was familiar. The red and brown and green landscape as the plane circled overhead, it was an old familiar dream. The coolness of the evening, the crickets, the breeze, the quietness from the busy bustling day life, I've been here before. The Zambian- isms that so easily slip from my tongue  and my behaviour "madam, can I change you a ten for that fifty?" It's not even unthinkable to be held up at the grocery cashier because they don't have change for the cash I gave them. "It's Africa" will slip from my tongue with a laugh and a roll of the eye again I'm sure but today it wasn't "Africa" it was home. That place you come to to relax, to let loose, to be yourself.

And yet, I was just home. But in a different way...


It's as normal to me to be held up for change at the cashier as it is to map out a route in transit through the city or walk thru shady park of orange and yellow trees, or stop at Tim's twice in one day. Midland is home, Toronto is home, Zambia is home


I have a home in each place, and variations of who I am are more prominent in each place, and things that I enjoy differ in each place, and people I hold dear may never cross the line from one place to the other. But each is home.


Yes Zambia feels like home and no I don't feel like I don't have a home... But yes Zambia does fit like an oversized glove at times and yes I wish that all the people I love could all be in the same spot- that easily accessible spot where I can visit you all without travelling around the globe


But I almost think it's better this way... See.. This nomadic type lifestyle that I'm living now reminds me: actually this world is not your home. My home is in heaven with my Master and my Saviour. I'm just passing through here for a little while. For a time my home is in Canada and for a time in Zambia, and perhaps somewhere else if my Lord wills it. But at the end of my day, at the end of my story I will go to my real home where my Father lives. And the exciting thing is- those of you who I love, who love the Lord will be there also and there will be no separation there.

I was so excited when I first saw that sign in July- "welcome to Canada" to me it was saying "welcome home!" And I teared up a little. But now that I'm back here in Zambia, laughing about the kids shouting "chindele", discussing the patients in the hospital (haven't been up to Chito yet, just catching up from folks), picking out groceries to last hopefully about 2 mos, waiting while the server at the cashier runs across the street somewhere? to get your burger- this is also home. The smells, the sounds, the sights- home.

But I'm learning not to hold one place too dear, not to hold on too tightly because it hurts, it hurts hard when the Father has to pry something from out my hand. And if I'm holding that tightly to what He is trying to make me let go than I am not able to reach for Him; I'm reaching for that thing. And that becomes sin. Harsh, hard lesson. But He makes us able both 'to will and to do of His good pleasure.'


So, I had an amazing visit home, thrilled to catch up with you! Sorry, it wasn't long enough! And now I'm home, my heart is singing "I'm back in Zambia again", looking forward to greeting my Zambian family and friends again and looking forward to newsy letters from you all


And I hope you'll forgive me this cheesy song here, it's a fun one to sing to, has a catchy tune, but it really sums up my thoughts :

This world is not my home
I'm just a'passing thru
My treasures are laid up
Somewhere beyond the blue
The angels beckon me
From heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home
In this world anymore

Oh Lord You know
I have no friend like You
If heaven's not my home
Then Lord what would I do
The angels beckon me
From heavens open door
And I can't feel at home
In this world anymore