I'm sitting here on the island of Borneo, watching American Idol, reading my sister's blog on meeting Desmond Tutu, and listening to the Bible School students' nightly devotion outside my window.
Our family will have to move back to America when my husband receives his green card. I am a pretty honest person so I will continue to be that way with you, whoever you are. I'm happy to move close to my parents, siblings, sister in law, nephew, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, etc. I am happy to eat food that I have spent missing over the past six years. It will be nice to not feel different when I go out in public and comforting to know how I should act and speak in all social situations.
But...
I believe in the work that we have done here for six years now. I believe in giving others hope and love. I believe in sacrificing so that someone else can have more, can know the love of God for them. I believe in bringing education to those who would not have it otherwise. I believe in the work of Christ, the work of loving others, of fighting for those who have no voice to fight for themselves. I believe in reaching the orphan and widow, the homeless and hopeless. It is a breath of fresh air out here to me on Borneo with people not having so much that they have to buy a bigger house for their family of 4 so they can fit more stuff in it. It is refreshing to clean out the stuff we have here and give it away to people who really, really need it.
I am scared of life in America. I am scared that I will get so fired up by the injustice that I see, by the selfishness that is so prevalent in the Land of the Free that my mouth will blow and I will offend people. I don't want to offend people, I really don't. However, sometimes I feel pure anger when I see someone complain about a waitress being too slow because my heart is thinking about the many Indonesians that aren't waiting for a slow waitress, they are just waiting to eat, anything, bugs, dog, cat, anything..."just let me eat, I'm starving". I'm scared I'm going to blow a gasket when I watch my child's first sporting event and some parent spends the game screaming at the ref while I am thinking why can't you get that angry about the girls and women around the world who are being raped by the second as a weapon of war? Why can't we Americans get angry about that instead of about the pee wee baseball ump?
Why can't we get mad when someone is treated as anything less than the very image of God but yet we can get mad when the President wants to make a speech and it interrupts our favorite tv show?
How can I move back to the Land of Plenty when I have lived so long here watching people who have nothing sacrificing their "nothing" for their neighbor who has even more of "nothing"?
I am happy to move back to America. Don't get me wrong. I miss so many of you and have spent 6+ years dreaming of the day when I would move home. As this day approaches though I am becoming more and more scared. And what scares me most is that I may forget what I have lived through here, what I have seen and tasted and become a part of; that I may become that person that only gets mad at the slow waiter or the bad ref and not at the things that matter such as people being treated as less than God images should be treated.
Lord, never let my passion for the "least of these" die away. Let me always get angry about injustice or lack of love or lack of sacrifice. Help me to always seek to live a life a sacrifice and not a life of comfort.
**I hope this post does not offend anyone. I love America and the people who call themselves Americans, just as I love people from every country, race, and people group.
