A confession; I’m struggling. I do not know truly how to begin, something has transformed in me over the course of the past 48 hours and I’ve been taken aback by a flood of emotions and left without words to move forward. (Me, without words…who would’ve ever thought!)
I was so excited and happy to come home to Minnesota, I missed my two sweet boys terribly and I longed to share these amazing experiences with every one of you! My heart ached with each beat to touch and kiss my Boo-bear and Zacharoni’s sweet faces. 12 days seemed comparable to 12 decades to be apart from my kids! But, now that I’m here holding my boys smothering them with kisses, smiling ear to ear at the joy of holding them in my arms; I’m a bit surprised by the emptiness that lingers. I find my life slipping slowly back into that “mundane routine” and how hard it is for me to digest the reality that my heart still aches…so deeply I have no way to sooth the pain. I long to touch and kiss the sweet faces of my African babies; the children that stole my heart and the lives that I innocently gave away the key to my soul. What about my “other” children? My purpose was to go to Africa and consume God’s plan for me so I may come home and share what I’ve experienced with hopes to infect all those who surround me with the same intense love that has destroyed the defense mechanism surrounding the innermost cavity of my heart. It sounded easy enough in theory. BUT, I’m struggling with the thought that as I prepare to type away pouring out my soul on these pages, fulfilling my “plan”, sharing photos that are a precious visual reminder of my experiences… will you know the depths of my love, or my pain, or my dance with God in Africa? Will you truly understand that the faces I will show you are not just images, they are MY children and I share the joy of loving each one of them through God’s limitless heart. Can I do justice with mere words to an experience that seems so much bigger than anything words could capture? Suddenly this is no longer a “mission trip” but these are MY MEMORIES. A piece of my soul and my life. Just as you’d protect your most prize possession, I too want to protect the integrity of my memories, for they are everything to me and all that I have left of Africa. I don’t want this to unfold as just an amusing “story”…I want every word that I share with you to impact you as I relive each detail. These “stories” are an invitation to share my memories with me which is the greatest gift I could imagine giving each of you. Are you ready to give away a piece of your heart and jump in head first to experience these memories along side me, because although beautiful and bittersweet it is profoundly painful for me to bare my soul in this magnitude. To give-way to the haunting images of my dreams and unleash these memories to flood into the foreground of my heart is a terrifying concept. I’ve spent every second of the past 3 days just trying to contain this flood from bursting through the emotional dam I’m trying so hard to sustain. You have to promise to “feel” with me or all this will be in vain and it will be the greatest injustice to God’s plan for my life I could fathom to imagine.
I unintentionally left my soul behind buried deep in the heart of Africa, I welcome you to journey with me as I reminisce just how painfully beautiful it is to embrace my reality of a heart so full, I’m empty...
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