It is time for an update.

I would like to blame my delay in writing on the fact that I am so busy – and it’s true, I am incredibly busy, but I have also allowed my words to drop at my feet and seem only to react to the tears I never see coming.

Everyone asks me about my transition phase and honestly I seem to not even understand the concept.

I daily look at my suitcase, which is still off to the side of my room, and wonder how rational it would be to pack my bags and go back to Mae Sot. I don’t care about the mosquitos, I don’t care about getting malaria, I don’t care about encountering my selfishness, again, daily.

The Lord gave me the best gift He could give me while I tarry this earth weary and scarred. He gave me perspective, He gave me His perspective. I sincerely miss Mae Sot yet, while I was there I experienced a sorrow that could have had me on my back dwelling in some kind of “all is dust in the wind” complex for months.

I felt uncomfortable in my skin. Emotional disconnect was a constant desire, to shut down and see how far auto-pilot could get me. There were times, and I admit this shyly, I didn’t want to be there but I knew I didn’t want to be back in America either. The discomfort of a foreign land caused me to ache so wretchedly and at the same time the prospect of going back to comfort terrified me. Deliverance from either scenario was but a wish, a small prayer in the midst of too many truths. I knew for the first time, I knew with certain clarity, that home was no longer a house I described as, “Right next to the frisby golf course.”

My home is inside, my home is my Savior. It is the one place I can’t see and the only place my heart beckons me to. I am a nomad, a sojourner, a foreigner to this earth. A place I have known and a place I cannot wait to escape.

When I was a little girl I knew that home was where my parents were, when I started to grow up I began to dream of my home. Would I live in New York? Or Venice? Maybe I would go Hollywood style? But when the dreamer wakes up and realizes the dream does not satisfy, what hope is there? And that is what I felt in Mae Sot when I woke up and I ached for a warm bed and at the same time the hug of a precious orphan. On this earth a sacrifice will be made. Five months ago my desire for the hug from such a precious little girl was fulfilled, now the desire for the warm bed is realized.

I am not home. And when Jesus opened my eyes I am sure He knew that the swell in my heart would, in a way, leave me paralyzed to my original ideas of this life.

So, how has the transition been? On Saturday morning I pulled over because I could only think of the Karen people, the Agape village. Tuesday morning I woke up filled with more joy than I knew I could handle, the majesty of the Lord had taken me over.
It is one thing to bear the burden of a sorrow, quite another to bear the burden of the Lord’s kindness.

This transition will never end. I am not in the process of transitioning from a poverty stricken land to a land of freedom. I am heaven bound, at the feet of my Savior bound, and that transition will last the rest of my earthly life.

Now I see dimly, but one day…

John 14:23 “Jesus answered him, ‘If anyone loves me, he will keep My word, and My Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.’”

Exodus 23:9 “You shall not oppress a sojourner. You know the heart of a sojourner, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt.”

Ecclesiastes 12:8 & 13-14 “Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher; all is vanity…The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.”

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