Last night I couldn't sleep. my heart was breaking. I had spent the weekend celebrating my best friend's wedding. the mother of the bride left the rehearsal dinner because the bows for the seat covers at the reception came in the wrong color. I never understood the materialization of contemporary weddings in Westernized countries, but after going to Africa...it's even more perplexing to me. for all the planning and decoration, why wasn't the reception more enjoyable? if all this stuff was to make the bride happy, why wasn't it ensuring happiness for the rest of us? while I had a great time dancing with the friends and family of the bride and groom, the moment I stopped the hollow feeling would return. Finally last night it hit me like a ton of bricks. I miss Africa. I miss speaking in Bemba. I miss having someone to speak in Bemba too. I miss being around people who took the time to really try to understand you and your feelings and help you understand how to use those feelings to grow. I miss being around people who understand what it is to live with so little, and the fact that it isn't so hard/difficult/miserable/impossible as western culture would have us believe.
I know God will use these feelings for something, so I give thanks for that, but I don't know where I'm going next, and that is the hardest part.
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