As most of you already know I am HOME - as in Fredericksburg, VA, USA. In fact, the day after I made the previous post was the day in which the mission asked me to leave Bolivia and head home. At that time a large group of country-folk loyal to the president were marching toward the city of Santa Cruz, which is where the mission has its HQ and a majority of its missionaries. Their alleged plan was to "peacefully" march into the center of the city. No one really believed that such an action would be peaceful, seeing as many of these pro-socialism country-folk were armed and the march was to display power over the city and its anti-government movement. So, seeing a window of opportunity, the mission looked at the missionaries who were planning on leaving Bolivia in the near future and decided to send them home early. Well, I guess I should say "us." They sent
us home early. Friday night the mission asked me to leave Bolivia and Sunday morning I was on a place home.
You can imagine the emotional roller coaster I have been on. First, the initial shock of the news was so overwhelming that I had difficulty feeling much of anything. I had to say goodbye to my friends and host family via phone, and they too were shocked. My last day in Bolivia was much like a dream - a strange, eerie haze covering everything. I tried to take everything in and savor it, but I couldn't. My senses were dulled. I couldn't even cry. I knew that my heart was breaking with sadness, but I had no way to process and express that emotion.
I spent my first 5 days in the states at the SAM home office in Fort Mill, SC (outside of Charlotte, NC). It served as a good transitional spot for me, and I was able to visit with Nate, my summer teammer, and Brandon, the guy who led my summer team 4 years ago when God called me to the mission field. As I left the SAM office and prayed with Brandon and another fellow Bolivian missionary, Dana, the Lord finally broke through and the tears came raining down. It felt like such a relief to be able to finally express the myriad of emotions I had pent up in my heart. The tears continued as I traveled with my dad from Charlotte to Fredericksburg, and climaxed as I arrived home. "I'm home," I kept saying to myself. I had been wandering around for so many weeks, from San Javier to Robore to Brazil to Santa Cruz, and I felt so weary. But I was finally "home." I couldn't even fully comprehend the word as I thought about it, but it still felt good. And yet, it made me feel so far away from Bolivia and the people I loved. After greeting my family I sat outside, looking at this house of mine, saying to myself, "I feel so far away..." For a while I sat and grieved.
Over the next few weeks I slowly readjusted to the American way of life, with all of its structure and schedules and such. The most overwhelming thing for me as I re-entered my home culture was the vast amount of information I had at my fingertips. The number of channels on the tv. The speed of the internet. The complexities of the cell phone. I was overwhelmed. But readjustment is a long process I am told by veteran missionaries, so I will continue to have similar experiences over the next month or so.
Right now I am at my alma mater, Houghton College, representing the mission at the school's annual missions conference. It has been really great to reconnect with old professors, speak in some classes, and talk with some students who are excited about missions in South America. I have really been emphasizing next year's summer internship because of its importance in my life when I was a student, and I already have about 5 kids signed up who are seriously considering going this summer!
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