Maybe because I’ve actually stopped for five minutes, I’m feeling a bit homesick today.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Africa. I love her people. I love her rawness, her wildness. I love her unpredictability, and that she can still surprise me (even, as I said in a previous post, if it not always in the most pleasant of ways.) I love that she challenges me and stretches me.
I love that all my hosts here have been amazingly kind and generous, welcoming me not just as a visitor from overseas, but as part of their families.
Most of all, I love that in being here I know that I am right at the centre of God’s will for me at this time, and that He is using me for His glory, sometimes even in spite of myself.
Nonetheless, I am missing home.
I miss the people who are dear to me.
I miss having a conversation that I can fully understand and take part in.
I miss being able to preach without wondering whether my interpreter is truly conveying my message.
I miss driving, and the independence of being able to hop in the car and go where I want when I want.
I miss my garden – though even when I go home I will still miss it, because I’m no longer in a house, but in the caravan.
I miss shopping (which is crazy – at home I hate shopping.)
I miss mushrooms. And cheese – especially Aldi soft blue, which will definitely be an item on my first shopping list when I get home.
None of these are terribly important, and this might sound like a bit of a “grizzle post”, but I want this blog to reflect the “downs” as well as the “ups” of missions service.
And on a rather delightful note, I hadn’t told anyone about missing cheese, but what should arrive for my lunch today but pizza! God is so good … He’s awesome when He moves in power, but He’s also great when He knows and cares that His servant is missing cheese.