PLEASE READ THIS ARTICLE: 10 More Tips for Repatriating with Dignity
It has nearly been six months since my return to the States, and I still find myself standing in my closet crying over South African money found in a jacket pocket.
The transition, even only after a year overseas, is HARD. Like no-one-will-ever-understand hard. But I have learned the power of grace during this time. Grace for myself and grace for those who cannot or are not willing to understand what my 2013 looked like. Grace for those who went on with their lives while I was away, because they did. All of them. Their lives didn’t stop just because I boarded a plane to Africa. Nor should they.
Some days I just want to lie in bed and scroll through pictures of the precious faces I grew to love.
Most Wednesdays I wish that I could find a way to just show up in Alex and surprise the kids with American candy and good crayons and new Lecrae music to dance to.
Sundays are not the same when I cannot hold a snoring and increasingly heavy Darnell in my arms.
And don’t even get me started on what this video did to me.
But the Lord has me here now. He has me on brand new adventures in a brand new city, and I am finding the grace to learn and adapt yet again.