Today has been rough.
Five hour time difference jet-lag doesn’t sound like much.
Not nearly as bad as when I came to Singapore first time around.
Still, couple that with what I’m sure is the very beginning stages of that infamously referenced word of the week ‘culture shock’ and a yearning to be home with my family and only being met with chopsticks and chicken rice and complicated bus systems and you’ve got a recipe for exhaustion.
I haven’t cried much about leaving the village yet. I’m don’t feel offended or overwhelmed or shocked as I thought I would at being in “civilization”, as we’re so apt to call anywhere with Wifi and more than one restaurant available to us. The food is good, but not as good as I thought it would be and I don’t have much room in my stomach anymore since it shrank. Everyone seems to notice how thin I am (again); leave it to Singaporeans to tell you exactly what they’re thinking. I like it, but I also want to point out that I was in Africa… It’s not like I was going to gain a ton of weight here, people.
Debriefing week brought on a host of terms that I’ve been reading about for months: re-entry, disorientation, loneliness, confusion, spiritual dryness, etc. I become more tired thinking about it, but notice that my bible times seem quieter and I’m annoyed to see that the general statements made are applicable to me. It’s real. I’m going home and I feel things and they’re not all good (but also not all bad).
I feel like I’m in limbo. I’m not back in the village, but I’m also not with my family. Less than a week until I am, but I feel like time is in slow motion. I don’t know where I am, and that’s not just a geographical statement–I don’t know how I feel.
I just want to sleep. That’s most of what I’ve done today, and I’m allowing myself to not feel guilty.
It’s okay to be tired.
It’s okay to not know how to feel or
even how to express myself.
I have all the time in the world to process, understand and grow from these experiences. Not everything I feel (atleast right now) is real.
These are the mom-type advice pieces I keep giving myself at each moment of coherency.
That and the fact that God can take care of me in America as much as in Africa. He remains the same and is not distant. He is not far off.
Even if He feels like He is.