You’ll notice that I’ve been a TAD silent here since then. If the transition itself has been difficult, then articulating what it's been like has been impossible. This came as a surprise to me, the girl who always has something to say. But I'm starting to find my words again.
The first month home was one of re-acquaintance. To friends and family, to American food, to my beloved jeans, to constant English. It was definitely a shock to my system in a lot of ways. At the same time I was amazed at how much felt perfectly normal. How there was nothing strange about speaking English constantly or eating a diverse and delectable meal or worshiping American style in church. I felt like I had woken up from a year-long dream, or had fallen into another dimension only to return now a year later. My two worlds, Cote d’Ivoire and the US, couldn’t possibly be connected. They felt so separate. There seemed to be nothing to connect them to each other except for myself. So I’d actually float through most of my day without thinking about it at all and then all of the sudden a smell, a sound, a phrase would instantly take me back to the past year spent in such a magnificently different place.
As the second month arrived, the honeymoon feelings of returning faded. I felt like I was in molasses, I couldn’t seem to get anything on my eternal to-do list finished, or even started. So I reverted to my favorite coping mechanism, what I call my cocoon. I stopped communicating with anyone that wasn’t physically in front of me. I didn’t call people back or email or skype. I didn’t want to talk, talking would inevitably meant having to deal with it all. I especially didn’t want to talk to God; my journaling, which I’ve done regularly all this past year came to a standstill. I was in full fledged denial.
Thankfully this didn't last forever. The week before and of the holidays, through a collection of seemingly small but incredibly significant events, the cocoon began cracking open:
A disagreement with my sister where I finally said the words “I’m not okay.”
A call from a teammate still in RCI.
A counseling meeting with my pastor.
An encouraging word from my uncle.
Slowly my cocoon was breaking. As weekend visits, lunches, and phone calls increased (with both old and new friends) the cocoon started crumbling. I remembered that I not only love talking about God, but to Him as well. Amazing how much easier my life became when I stopped trying to ignore His presence for the majority of the day. He has truly created us to communicate. With each other. With Him.
This is a season of waiting and transition. Anyone who has known me for longer than a second will tell you that I am horrible at both of these. Good thing Jesus is a patient teacher; He wants me to learn to abide and rest. A hard thing to do when the question everyone is constantly asking (including myself) is “So, what’s next?” I don’t know what’s next. My mind wants to immediately flip into problem solving mode and fix my ignorance at the next couple weeks (let alone the next 6 months). But I needn’t bother; He knows. He'll continue to guide me. My job is to keep my eyes on Him.
As the second month arrived, the honeymoon feelings of returning faded. I felt like I was in molasses, I couldn’t seem to get anything on my eternal to-do list finished, or even started. So I reverted to my favorite coping mechanism, what I call my cocoon. I stopped communicating with anyone that wasn’t physically in front of me. I didn’t call people back or email or skype. I didn’t want to talk, talking would inevitably meant having to deal with it all. I especially didn’t want to talk to God; my journaling, which I’ve done regularly all this past year came to a standstill. I was in full fledged denial.
Thankfully this didn't last forever. The week before and of the holidays, through a collection of seemingly small but incredibly significant events, the cocoon began cracking open:
A disagreement with my sister where I finally said the words “I’m not okay.”
A call from a teammate still in RCI.
A counseling meeting with my pastor.
An encouraging word from my uncle.
Slowly my cocoon was breaking. As weekend visits, lunches, and phone calls increased (with both old and new friends) the cocoon started crumbling. I remembered that I not only love talking about God, but to Him as well. Amazing how much easier my life became when I stopped trying to ignore His presence for the majority of the day. He has truly created us to communicate. With each other. With Him.
This is a season of waiting and transition. Anyone who has known me for longer than a second will tell you that I am horrible at both of these. Good thing Jesus is a patient teacher; He wants me to learn to abide and rest. A hard thing to do when the question everyone is constantly asking (including myself) is “So, what’s next?” I don’t know what’s next. My mind wants to immediately flip into problem solving mode and fix my ignorance at the next couple weeks (let alone the next 6 months). But I needn’t bother; He knows. He'll continue to guide me. My job is to keep my eyes on Him.
