Gifts. August 1, 2020

It’s déjà vu as a missionary kid.. the Lord leads on, and I can see Him, So Long as I count the gifts he bestows. I always seek a mantra, a returning point, A HOME. Maybe that’s what this is for me, seeking home for myself in a world I’ve never really been able to identify Where that is. And the Lord leads on-
That’s my home, now, and probably always has been but I’m returning
Again + again To his grace + his face + the way He moves me forward. 
If you’re an acquaintance, and you’d ask how our transition is going, I’d say 
hard, but amazing, And I’d mean it. But if you were anyone else, I’d breathe deep and say 
HARD, and I’d wait a while, and then whisper, But amazing. This place is déjà vu, + I cannot thank my parents enough for paving the way.
The language comes quick + the culture, Familiar.
I’ve forgotten the insects over time, + mom says she learned to just 
Coexist, The way the sand + the sea share the salt, i must learn to share space With insects but more importantly, That which symbolizes discomfort because it’s in the friction— the tension— the halts + the pauses + the choked up moments where Christ exists + makes us home In him.
He kills another cockroach, I empty a gecko out of the laundry, and we roll our eyes + tonight, we laugh. 
Because parenting has been our mountain today, and The Lord leads on. I can see Him, So long as I count the gifts He bestows. 
We settle into hot sheets with fans lining the walls And I chant to myself, in this flashback of a season, 
He is my Home. Always.
I want to take hold of this culture and squeeze it like a lime, flaws stinging open wounds but the beauty- 
Refreshing. Tasteful. I want to pack my backpack full of every experience to prove my capabilities, conquer deep fears, overcome obstacles, but covid keeps us Near, Keeps us close, 
Keeps us having water fights with neighbor kids through fences + empowering smoothie makers through masks and always showing our children that it’s ok to 
feel afraid and be brave 
At the same time. 
Covid keeps us weirdly unified if we allow it, keeps us small. Small is better, sometimes, and less is more. 
The Lord leads on, + I can see him, so long as I count gifts He bestows.