As the orange and maroon leaves fade into winter back home, I’m gearing up for the heat of summer. As Amazon continues to fill my inbox with reminders of the latest Christmas deals, I use some extra change to buy an orange at the fruit stand to share with a friend. And as the sun sets here in South Africa, I smile knowing it’s shining somewhere back home.
Before starting this journey, I simplified some complexities of the year. I assumed it would be a year of growth and change for me, but not back home. Maybe my dad would have a few more gray hairs (sorry Dad!) or maybe a new store opened in town. It would kind of be like a year on pause, that things would be relatively the same as I left them in August; I would just be different. Or even that I would keep back home on pause, keeping it out of site and mind. But as holidays pass and season change, I’m realizing this isn’t a year on pause. Maybe I thought so to help with my fears and homesickness, maybe I thought it would make it easier. But that’s not the case. Life is going on here and at home. And it sounds silly and selfish; of course I knew things wouldn’t be the exact same. But coming to terms with it and facing it up front is a bigger realization than I expected.
No matter the comfort of thinking or hoping things would be the same, I am grateful that I’ve come to appreciate the changes. I don’t want things to be the same. If we aren’t growing and changing, we aren’t living. After my few months here, I am certainly not the same. Ive grown and changed in ways I never expected.
Now,
I find myself singing everyday.
I stop and talk with people as we walk past, because I’m not counting the minutes to where I need to be next on my schedule anymore.
I’ve fallen in love with writing again.
I appreciate my family and friends supporting me back home more than I think I ever have.
In my spare time I’m not checking my latest Snapchat or Facebook notification on my phone. I embrace the quiet and the stillness, not feeling the need to occupy my time.
I find unmeasurable joy in little kids who always seem to make my day brighter without even knowing.
I wait patiently, more than I ever have in my life, and my mom can definitely vouch for that.
I read a lot. In my few short months here I’ve read 12 books (and counting), more than I have read for myself in the past four years. I continue to realize the importance, power, and privilege reading holds.
I listen when I’m in conversation, and not getting distracted worrying about what else I need to do in my day. I actually learn about what’s happening in people’s lives, more than just a “How are you?”
I find comfort in peace and prayer.
I use less, waste less, spend less and live more.
I trust in knowing things will somehow work out.
And I honestly believe that kindness can break down walls and move mountains.
Living in my community has taught me a lot. Though there are always ups and downs (the ups always greater than the downs), I couldn’t be more grateful for the ways I’m growing. I’m not the same, and it shows me even more that I shouldn’t want things to be the exact same at home. No matter the fear I’ve had of missing out on certain days, I smile and give thanks that they happened.
If things stayed the same, there would be fewer stories to share, less joys and growths the celebrate. Because at the end of the day, this year away isn’t about me, it’s about living and walking together. The important thing is that we share these changes with each other.
Thank you all for giving me grace through this lesson learned, and many, many, and I can’t emphasize enough how many more to come.
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Walking Together 