I spent this weekend having several breakdowns in between
hanging out with some of the greatest friends in the world. I spent this
weekend struggling to fit in on a college campus I once called home, and so
wanting to call home again. I spent this weekend fighting with my heart and
passion for Africa. And if it wasn’t for one of those really great friends, I
would still be fighting and screaming and yelling and wanting so badly to go
out on dates with American boys and read textbooks about Business Law and celebrate my 21st
birthday the “right way” and study on Sunday nights and skip 8 am classes and
have movie nights on a Tuesday night and just be like all my really incredible inspiring
friends.
Because sometimes I miss it. Sometimes I want that life
again. Sometimes I want to be the normal American college girl trying to figure
out this life thing with people my own age walking this out with me.
BUT more than all of that I want to wake up every day in
sweat because of the 110 degree weather in my African home. To go to sleep
every night hearing the howling of the street dogs or the singing outside my
window. To walk into a compound and have
ten children run up to me crying “Muzungu” and fighting to hold my hand. To sit
with people not much younger than me fighting with and for them trying to make
them see what I see in them: hope, courage, and strength. To gather in a room
with people who don’t speak the same language but all sing and pray to the same
God. To hug on a child that has never been shown love before. To bring gifts to
people who have never had people care about them enough to bring them gifts. To
wholeheartedly serve a family and the families in a community, in whatever way
that looks like. To find potential in people that once were outcasts or
considered the lowest of the lows. To truly make an impact in one person’s
life, one person’s day. To be used by my One True Love in a way only He would
create my heart to be used.
This struggle comes from not knowing which path to take. Not
having all the answers. Searching so hard but just coming up with more valid
options. Seeking wise people’s advice, but only getting more confused in the
end. Putting one foot in front of the other only to trip after a couple steps.
Constantly not being at peace no matter what option is being brought up. Asking
for confirmation and only receiving silence.
My head starts to get in the way of my heart since this
struggle has aroused. My head tells me that I am twenty years old and too young
to do anything impactful, my heart tells me age doesn’t matter. My head tells
me no one would speak against my going back to college because everyone would agree
with it, my heart tells me that’s not where God is asking me to be. My head tells me that America could easily
become my comfortable home, my heart reminds me Africa is my home and comfort
is a giant of a lie.
Thanks to my best friend I was reminded that being at a
crossroads sucks. Having too many options but not enough answers sucks. And constantly
facing a head that can be validated by people all around you with a heart no one
but Him can understand sucks.
So for now I am clinging to the promise all of these tears
are for a reason, my passion is to see people in Africa become independent life
changers themselves, and that I have some really great friends that put up with
me, remind me of who I am, and constantly push me to be a better person.
Being thankful for no sleep and plenty of thoughts,
Liz








