Monday, January 18, 2010

Home is where the Heart is.

They say home is where the heart is.

I've been home for exactly a month now. I must admit, at first it was incredibly difficult. I came home to rest and be with family and to just wait. No thinking allowed. But as soon as I got on the plane, my mind raced and continued to race for two weeks.

I struggled to just be.

I couldn't stop thinking about going back to Africa and began planning for when I would go back, which was against what I had told myself. I wanted to come home and be at home and not think or make decisions.

There was one moment when it all changed. I was driving up north to Goodsoil, where my mom's side of the family is. I was driving my brother, who was ... under the weather. This was New Years Day. He was KO'd in the passengers seat and I looked over at him and just felt so happy to be home and be with him and be with the rest of my family. I'm so blessed to come home everyday to an incredible sister (who is the best mom in the world, by the way), a considerate brother-in-law, and two CRAZY cute and funny nieces that crack me up ALL the time.

I've started teaching, too. Well, I'm subbing. Teachers call me when they're sick. It's been a huge challenge. The students are usually big disasters for a sub. But even in this moment I definitely don't want to even think of being a full-time teacher.

And for some reason teaching has caused me to be unsettled again. Today I found myself thinking about getting another part-time job. I loved the idea of working at the library, serving coffee.. something mindless and different. Perhaps it's just a way for me to cope.

It's been strange because I recognize SO many things I can be involved in here. Young adults Bible Study (which I love), Outreach with my church (which is new and just opened up with my friend's father leading it. I'm meeting with him next week to dream and brainstorm), working with churches on reserves and getting my feet back into the Aboriginal community.

And today I found my mind wandering again to Africa. I was reading the stories and posts on the Hands website (www.handsatwork.org) and was getting hot feet (opposite of cold feet?). I was reading one of George's postings titled "Prisoners of Hope" and felt greatly encouraged by a prayer of St. Francis he included:

“May God bless you with discomfort
at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships
So that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger
At injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
so that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God bless you with tears
To shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger, and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless you with enough foolishness
To believe that you can make a difference in the world,
So that you can do what others claim cannot be done
To bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.”