Last summer, as I busy tried to prepare myself for the adventure of a lifetime, that had been my prayer. I had recognized how frazzled I was feeling and in response, handed it over to the only One who could turn my anxiety into anything productive.
Months later, it is obvious that "frazzled" is a habit of mine, or God is just still in the process of breaking me-honestly, I believe it is a combination of the two-because today I find myself in a very similar state of mind. I find myself as frazzled as ever, and probably doing a very poor job of pretending not to be so, as I attempt to prepare both myself and my circumstances for the continuing adventure before me. This time, however, rather than requesting to be any more broken than I already am (out of fear that I may literally snap in half) I find myself fathoming, "Is this real life?"
Is this real life? I have spent every day since March 5th, when I stepped off that last plane which had carried me all the way back across the pond, trying to answer this question. And after all this time...the truth is my heart hurts. It hurts to feel torn between to different (Or are they?) realities as I struggle to find the balance between the two that is normal. But the more I live, the more of the world I see and experience, the more I doubt that "normal" even exists. So again, here I find myself asking, "Is this real life?" (For all you YouTube fans-David's next question would be, "Is this gonna last forever? And don't worry, we'll get there at some point, I'm sure.) The obvious answer is of course, yes! This is real life! All of this is very real. The further question then is: Which one is reality? My life here in the U.S. that I call home, or my life in Africa?
When I close my eyes I can see it...
I see little Lucy bound into my arms-her burnt, disfigured hand telling a story too many will never know.
I see precious James blush at the remarks the other boys make when I talk to him and smile. As a young boy who has Downs Syndrome he is so blessed to have been taken into a home full of people who love in the midst of a world that would call him "cursed" and literally shun his presence in their naiveté. But sweet James-all his joy knows is he has a new friend!
I see Rosie and her oh-so-silly faces that leave me laughing for hours!
I see absolutely precious Lisabeth in all her innocent joy and her heart-melting grin.
I see shy little Mary who grins whenever I look at her and never wants to let go of my hand for all the world. I see her very determined as she puts her favorite bracelet around my wrist during church. I see in her eyes how desperately she wanted me to stay back from the rest of my team so I could go to her birthday party...
I see 17 & 16 year old cousins Margret and Mary as they lead me through their shamba. I see them proudly and generously prepare a sweet potato dinner for me, giving me a taste of home. I see Margret's giant heart overflow through her tears as she listens to stories of others' hardships. I see Mary's contagious joy in her every smile.
I see Esther smiling and laughing, giddy as we run through the jungle she calls home. I see her cling to my arm and beg me not to leave. I see her proudly and carefully prepare a chicken to be cooked for my teammates. I see her find absolute joy in pure silliness! And I cringe at the sad thought of her being left motherless that same night, 14 years old; at the thought that there is nothing more I could've done to comfort her...
I see my Rwandan sister and brothers-giddy little Alice, Geoffrey, Desirée, and Faustine. I see the power of hope in their eyes. Oh, the adventures I have been so blessed to share with them!
The list goes on and on. And then I open my eyes and here I am, home. Home with my family, my friends, my house, my work...but none of it can ever feel the same because a part of my heart is still somewhere else. Here, surrounded by people and a world that have watched me grow up over the past 10 years...something's still missing. I fell in love with the dream of traveling to Africa when I was a a very little girl. Now Rwanda and it's people have stolen a piece of my heart. As much as I truly did love my adventures in Kenya and all the people I got to share them with and meet along the way...Rwanda will always be my first love.
Furthermore, as many people have asked me...
Am I going back? Without a doubt, yes! You could not keep me away from that red dirt even if you tried; the land of a thousand hills will still be calling my name.
When? Not yet. I know that it is not yet time for me to return to the place and the people I love with all my heart. I have so much respect for the people who have been called to full time missions! But that is not what I have been called to, especially in this season of my life. God has put before me responsibilities that to some may seem worldly-responsibilities I have seen many young missionaries led to leave behind, but God is leading me to them. And this next season of my life is going to enable me to do so much more good than I ever possibly could otherwise!
I need to go to school-college, university, whatever your english word is for it. I have not been called to give up that opportunity. However, I will not be going to George Fox University as I had originally planned, and I will not be learning Missions out of a book. Actually (drumroll-very few people even know this yet), I will not even be staying in Oregon. Or the Northwest, or even on the west coast. It is no secret that since I got home I have been looking into various paths of Art Therapy study. And I have found that here, at home and close to home, there are not very many options-and not one is direct! There are, however, a few (and I mean very few) Pre-Art Therapy Major programs in the midwest. One in particular program is far more prevalent, and I have been in contact with this school over the past couple months.
Last Friday, sitting getting pedicures with my mom, aunties, and very dear friend, I finally got the phone call informing me that I have been accepted to Indiana Wesleyan University! After months of being asked what my next plans were, you have no idea what a relief it is to finally have an answer! There are still a lot of pieces of this puzzle to put into place in the upcoming weeks and months. But for now I am so in awe of what a huge gift God has given me-when I boarded a plane to Kenya on September 28, 2012 I never dreamed that this is the path I would find myself on after such a crazy adventure in itself. It really is the biggest blessing, in more ways than one.
So, I am moving to Indiana. Not tomorrow, not next week. It has yet to be determined whether this move will be happening 6 months from now, or 13 months from now. But I know it is happening. Until then, I am going to continue taking one day at a time. Until then...
I will continue to watch in awe as God goes before me and levels the mountains, breaks through gates of bronze and cuts through bars of iron. I will watch as He presents treasures in secret places, constantly reminding me that He is God and He has summoned me by name. (Isaiah 45:2-3) I will rejoice as He continues to pick up my broken pieces and make me beautiful. And when He calls me back to Rwanda, when He calls me to further proclaim His glory in all the nations, I will be ready.
~Chloe Anne
