Well, I'm home. And it's weird.
It's weird because it's not weird. Most of the time....
For the first time in 2 years, my life feels....normal.
I feel normal.
This is what I know.
It's normal with the Madre. It's normal to eat Mexican food with the girls (and Austin). And it's normal loving on their babies. It's normal to get in the car and go, whenever I want. It's normal walking through the church doors feeling like I'm home. It's normal (and glorious) walking through Target.
I realize I've only been home 4 full days, but no one has asked me for a single dollar.
And I say all of that to say, it feels good to be home. I'm happy, I'm fine.
But I'm different.
I used to be sorry for that. Or embarrassed. Last summer when I came home to visit, I came home because I was on the verge of a breakdown. I joked about it (and still do), but it was very real. I wanted everyone to think that I was fine, and that I was still my flighty, silly, laid back self. The truth is, I wasn't healthy. And maybe I'm not now either. I want to be conscious and lean into that this time around. Not in a negative way, but in a I want to be true to myself and what I've learned and experienced kind of way. I want to be intentional with the people in my life and I want to be intentional with my own heart.
I sure do miss my Rwandan family, my little box that loved me so well when nobody else seemed to know what to do with me. And I miss my boy more than I could ever put into words. But I know that they are good, too. Everyone is exactly where they need to be. Moving forward, dreaming big, waiting on Him.
I'm so thankful for it all. I'm excited and expectant for what lies ahead. We have all dug a ton of ditches and now we just wait for rain. :)