Home?

Home- the very word brings questions to some of our minds. What is this thing that others speak of-home? Where is it? Or is it even a place? Maybe it is more of a feeling of belonging. Or better yet, being with people who love you and accept you.
Being a missionary and also a missionary kid (MK) home is a word (or idea) that we struggle with. We don't quite know how to put it into words even why it is a struggle. And when we are brave enough to try, few people have the patience or understanding to listen.
Eighteen years ago when I married my husband, Jason, who is also a MK, I really never thought about how this would affect our marriage, our lives, and the lives of the children we brought into this world. To others we seem confused, messed up, or even at times ungrateful. But I am convinced more now than ever it is none of those.
Living overseas, especially if one has lived in a 3rd world country, we get to see how most of the people in the world live on so much less. Many times because there are fewer "things" to clutter their lives, relationships run deep and people tend to speak about "real issues".We are more ready to admit our need of God when we have real needs in our lives that can not be ignored.
Once you have lived a very simple life and possessions have lost their grip on you and your attention, it is freeing to love and serve those around you. Maybe with a smile, a hug, a bowl of soup and with actions and words sharing that there is a true God in heaven that cares for them. Once you have tasted the pure joy of servant-hood, nothing else can quite compare.
So when someone ask me, "Why? Why would you want to move to Africa?" I usually just smile and mumble some quick answer.  But what I want to say is, "You would understand if you could go with me as I give an old wrinkled grandma the first meal she has had in days. If you could see her toothy grin, you would understand."
If you could walk with me down the village street, cow bells clanging in the distance, hand in hand with an abused teenager. Just letting them know that you understand and you care.  If you could see the hope in their eyes, you would go too.
If you could come home to a supportive family. Come home to a place, that even though it is humble and simple, it is where you are understood. You would call it home too. Even though it is not the good old U.S.A.

(written last year as we prepared to move to Uganda)