Homesick

When I signed up to go to India, I had no idea what I was getting into. I didn’t even really know why. I had always had an interest in India, but never a desire to go. In fact, when I did decide to go- it was more to escape the States rather than go to a certain destination. I felt suffocated by the American Dream.

I didn’t know what to expect in the weeks leading up to the trip. I had read about Indian history and culture- and I knew enough to know that it was extreme. I tried to prepare myself to leave my comfort zone… and I ended up finding it instead.

It was the thing I least expected… to feel so comfortable. How can something so foreign feel so natural? In some bizarre way, it felt like I had come home for the very first time. Like I had been homesick this whole time and had just been calling it “frustration” instead. I still don’t know how God could burden my heart so strongly in such a short period of time.

I've been asked a lot of questions and one of the most frequent is: "Was the culture hard?". The answer is no. It was not hard. How can you be bothered by a smell, when the person it's coming from is smiling the most precious smile? How can you care about the cockroach in the windowsill, when the women on the other side of it have abandoned their idols, if only momentarily, to praise the Savior? You can literally WATCH Him working in their lives. How can you worry about the purity of the food, when it's being fed to you in the purest act of love and hospitality? Everywhere I turned, there was a positive that outweighed the negative. Maybe I've been desensitized by my background in sexual trauma. Maybe it's because I was only there for such a short time. Maybe I am romanticizing it all and I just didn't have enough time for it to begin to wear on me. In fact, I’m quite certain that to a degree- all of that is true and given more time to adjust, it would have gotten significantly harder. The injustices are great and the pain is raw. But there are also things like humility, hospitality, selflessness and relationship that are deeper and more genuine than some I have ever experienced.

I despair because I miss India and I know that I won’t go back unless He calls me to. To do so would be entirely selfish. These are real women with real needs and real connections being made and to go back simply because “I miss them”, would be reducing them to little more than a vacation destination… an attraction: a place where, in their presence, I find peace and comfort and fulfillment without any regard for their needs and feelings. I know that I am where I’m supposed to be for now… and actually, I suppose there is a little bit of relief in that. It IS the easier option. But there’s the voice in me that’s crying out to God: “Over there! That is where I am supposed to be! Release me.” I’m so homesick for India. I miss it every single day. I try to remember that I’ve only been home for a couple of weeks, but I talked to a friend the other day who fell in love with Kenya 14 years ago and still she loves and longs for it. I can’t imagine feeling this way 14 years from now. The question hammers in my mind: Why even expose me to it?

But then the whisper comes again: “Stay close and stay open. I’ve got this”. There is peace in knowing that I don’t have to have the answers. I’m learning to let go of the need to know and plan and strategize and, in turn, just rest in His promises and sovereignty…. to know that His plans for me are greater than anything I could design for myself. Perhaps one day I will return… maybe not. But more than geography, I long to be an effective tool for the Kingdom. And since it’s His Kingdom, surely He knows how best to build it.