Well, I suppose I have put this off long enough... I am home. I am home. I am home. Only, it doesn't feel as good as I imagined, and I long, yes, long, for my hot sticky bed in India, and the company of 17 of the strongest women I have ever met. I miss them daily, hourly really. I have found that I am actually more equipped to deliver a baby than I am to face the demands of the west. I have become completely and utterly distracted by anything that shines or sparkles, and have mistakenly lost bits of my vision in the process. The other day, however, with the help of two other very strong and wonderful women, I began to find what I had lost. I have yet to truly process the things I experienced during the Birth Attendant School, and often tear up when I see pictures, smell smells, or hear songs. I have returned to a place where my history bombards me, and old habits come knock at my door. Just when I feel like I want to crawl up in a whole for a year, a dear friend sits me down and speaks to me of grace. "Grace". I slowly remember the word. My head for 6 weeks now has been filled with "why's?", "how's?", and "what's?". I question all, doubt all, and wonder what we are even doing. Then the word "grace" slowly seeps through my skin and I remember. It's about love. Suddenly I wish I could relive the last seven weeks, and perhaps the last seven months... but then again, I remember "grace", and I breathe. It's not about perfection, it's about growth. It's about love, and understanding, it's about mistakes, and learning. It's about humility, brokenness, and maturity. The God I used to love, turned into the God I questioned, and then I was reminded of grace. Suddenly there seems reason to dance again. I am reminded of what's important, and the "why", the all consuming, all powerful "why" doesn't matter. I am beginning to discover what was lost. Love.
My family is amazing. I returned home to find my beautiful grandma healthy and radiant, my dad retired (thank God), and my two new nieces- breathtakingly beautiful. My ocean is more beautiful than when I left it. I have enjoyed time to read, and think... alone. However it takes me much longer to fall asleep, in a huge bedroom all my by self. I miss my "bum mate" as she calls me, at arms distance at any given moment in the night. I miss my little sleep walker, and hearing German. I miss silly jokes, and movies on lap tops. Perhaps I shouldn't start... it's strange isn't it? That we don't realize what we've got until it's gone? What a gift it was. What a beautiful gift it was.
And now here I am today... The BAS started one year ago today. Tomorrow is the fourth of July. I've been gone for the last two years, in nations that do not celebrate America's sweet independence. I look forward to it. My sweet America. My sweet, silly, old America.
"GRACE".
I miss you more than you'll ever know...
I just watched the videos we made for "fastforward"... you know the ones. And I'm balling hysterically. We are seriously so funny.