Belonging

May 26

Before I came to Africa I remember struggling with finding my place, as many new graduate do, in that strange period between the comforts of college and the security of settling - the vastness of an unknown life ahead of me. I had a strong hold on who I was, but a slippery grasp of who i was to the rest of the world.

Now, in Rwanda, finding my place looks very different from when I was in America. In some sense it's easier.  A clearly defined role as a volunteer, as an American, as a voluntary outsider (by color and culture at least), the new friendships in my community, and the comradeship of other volunteers in the same position all help define my place in Rwanda, making it feel at home. But in a different way, a more subtle way, home is difficult to establish. With all the new surroundings, it's not hard to detach or distance myself from this new home, to be distracted from my work here, or to sort of turn the autopilot on: going through the motions of teaching, building friendships, and working around cultural barriers.

A friend from home recently sent me a prayer (as she does every month - thanks!!) on this subject. Here's part of it: 
   "Do not let it sit in. Teach him to embrace it, knowing and constantly thanking you for the world you placed him in and the knowledge you have given him to pass to others. Bring back a childlike faith in him to relearn everything in the new surroundings... Let him find your presence in every piece of the surroundings. How can one yearn for anything more than your presence?"          

A couple days before I left Cleveland for Jamestown to begin packing for Rwanda, I heard a worship song that said, "I finally found where I belong, in Your presence." I'm finding it's true, in any situation. I can travel the world, alone or with life long friends, and I know where I belong. I always have a place. 

Warm sun on my back, cool breeze on my face. Smell of freshly cut grass. Hum of birds' wings around me... a world of open doors...