The last 72 hours of my life have looked something like this:
Starbucks, bubble baths, doing laundry, responding to emails/voicemails/Facebook, sleeping for sixteen hours straight, grocery shopping, The Office (On Demand), more Starbucks, sorting through hundreds (literally!) of pictures, snow, grading papers and cleaning.
Trying to “describe” my trip to people is proving to be quite a challenge for me. I answer their questions and try my best to make it come alive for them, but it’s one of those things that I know no one else will ever be able to fully grasp. I am unable to take all that I saw, everything I felt, in those two weeks and put it into words that others could understand.
The question that keeps coming up is, “So, are you going to go back?” I know I can’t be sure, but I feel fairly certain that I will. I don’t know how I’ll get there or when I’ll go back, but I guess it’s not my job to figure all of it out. If God wants me to go back to Liberia, then I’m going back to Liberia. End of story.
The plan for now is to take it one day at a time, continually praying for open doors and open opportunities. It’s to walk by faith and not by sight, to fully let go and fully trust, to live not mine but Thine.
We’ll see where things go from there