Measuring Time

Time is a fascinating thing, isn't it? Sometimes it goes slow, sometimes it flies by, sometimes it manages to do both at the same time-- all the while a second takes a second and a minute a minute. It feels like a combination of yesterday and forever ago that we arrived in Ethiopia. I clearly remember how hard jet lag hit and how disoriented I was for a while and that sure feels like more than 7 months ago. But, that's all it is. 7 months. Not near long enough, but, due to paperwork, we'll be coming back to Canada soon. In the classroom where I teach my two sister in laws and two other girls, we've got a couple count downs going on and one of them is until I leave-- 16 days today. Yikes! I can't really comprehend that. It wasn't instantaneous, but this has become my home. The feel, the people, the pace, the food, the friends. I have a space here where I kinda fit. Sigh. It makes me sad to think about it too much. I love the rhythms of life here. Our guard coming on duty at night and always being glad to see us. Walking along the edge of the road since they are still working on reconstructing the road here. Knocking on gates and hearing people say "Mano?"(Who's there?) Struggling with the greetings, but graciously getting smiles back. Walking across the street to the little shop to buy our bread and eggs for breakfast or to the other shop to pick up injerra for lunch. Spending quiet nights with few interruptions with just Jeff and I.

But, I'm leaving home to go home. Lately, I've gotten some really encouraging emails from people who love me and have taken the time to journey vicariously with me to the other side of the world, which have really encouraged me to know that I'm not alone in this space of change. My sisters are rearranging their living space so we have somewhere to crash when we first get back. I'm thrilled that I'll get to hug all the little people in my life who change so much in such a short time. I can't wait to see my dad and see how his back is doing and give my mom a hug and squeeze her so she knows how much I missed her. I've been holding on to a hug for someone who has suffered while I've been away and I haven't been able to be there for her and now, I'll finally be able to give it to her. I'll be able to read with my sister and niece in grade one and be thrilled with the little readers they are becoming. My sister in Kindergarten can show me all the letters she can write now and how high she can count and show me the book she found that says 'Ethiopia'. My brother can share with me his latest minecraft creations... or just be really excited that now Jeff is home and can get it working again for him. I can hear about my sister's missions trip to Mexico. I can tuck in my sister who's in Grade 6 (if she still lets me) and really hear about her heart in a way that just doesn't come through in emails. And the list goes on. There is so much love to go home to.

But, this'll be hard, guys. I am going home and leaving home. Joy and sorrow. Fear and excitement. Can I be strong? Can I do this well? Transition hasn't really been my strong point. Will the words I find to share my past months scratch the surface, or will they cause confusion? Have I missed too much? Can I share the gold nuggets of life I've found to those I love and care about? Can I make a difference in the side of the world where I speak the same language, but often can't find the right words? Sigh.

I'm coming home.