Today marks the half way point here in Zimba. Time is flying too quickly. As I looked at my calendar last night, the reality sank in. Half way. I should be longing for the familiarity of home but mostly I'm craving more time in this unfamiliar new place, with its glorious sunsets, its beautiful people, its sweet simplicity.
I can't describe it, maybe its the quiet, maybe its the time to disconnect, but something in the deepest part of my being comes awake when I am in Africa. Unlike any other place, I experience a freedom here, the ability to breathe more deeply, a clarity of mind, and a peace that only confirms what I felt so strongly in Uganda... this is what I was created for.
Even in the most frustrating moments when the X-rays are blurry and the labs are missing and the roosters are crowing every hour of the night, I haven't wanted to pack up and go home. Even in the loneliest moments, I truly haven't been homesick. Evidence of God's grace and the interceding of my people back home. Certainly not of anything I'm capable of. Thankful, so incredibly thankful.
My day at the hospital ends with a walk home to the mission house. A daily display of God's splendor. Fields of dried corn stalks, sun peaking through the trees right before the sky burns shades of orange, then deep reds, then bright pinks. The hospital with the small chapel behind me finally quieting from the day's normal chaos. One day closer to Nashville is one day less to soak up Zimba. The two halves of my heart. Pray that time slows down.