Patrick and I have officially been state-side for over a month, and it's honestly good to be here! I've purposely kept away from blogging these past few weeks to give myself room to just 'be' during what I knew would be a significant transition. And I'm so thankful I did. We were welcomed back by the people that make home a place of the heart rather than a place on the map. From the minute we stepped off the plane we were surrounded by loved ones. We enjoyed plugging back in to our family and friends amidst the Christmas hustle bustle...
New Christmas presents #1 and #2 - bear hat and revived polaroid-esque camera! |
A gift from my raven-haired "twin" Lauren! |
Second Annual Mother-in-law Christmas Tea! |
Surprise visit from my dear friend Rachel (and a much-needed shirt) |
My beautiful family |
Anyway, over the past month I have tried to process the amazing experience we left behind while crashing headlong into the culture shock I knew was coming. After all, we returned to America in the middle of the biggest commercial season of the year. I wish I could express how strange it was to walk through a pristine shopping mall after knowing the muddy, crowded alleys of a Guinean market. How novel it was to see cars driving down the road in an orderly fashion. How odd it was to see babies lugged around in carseats, not wrapped tightly to their mother's back. How startling it was to see our enormous hospital towers all aglow. I wish I could tell you that coming home felt like coming home.
But it didn't. We were not the same as when we left, and "home" wasn't the same either. Yes, we spent four months overseas, but this truth has very little to do with Africa. We left Spokane 12 months ago with a one-way ticket to the East Coast, putting all our eggs in the travel nursing basket and trusting God to carry it. We leaned into Him and, though we had no permanent address, my husband and I learned to make a home in the space between us. We were changed simply by the act of leaving.
So returning to Spokane was like trying on an old sweater I forgot I had - comfy, full of memories, but not meant to wear everyday. Rekindling a life there just wouldn't be right. What was can never be again, and it would be a shame to try to make it so. Let it stay beautiful in my mind's chronology of our lives, that's where it can live forever. Just like our time on the East Coast. Just like our time with Mercy Ships. Not meant to last, but to stretch our minds to embrace different ways of life and fill our hearts with love for people we wouldn't have encountered had we stayed. I think back on the patients I had in New Haven, in Baltimore, in Guinea. I think on the friends we made while back East or onboard the Ship. Though my heart is wrung by the distance, I have no regrets. I would rather remember them fondly and shed tears of loss than to never have added them to our lives.
It's with this in mind that I look on our next steps with anticipation. In a week's time we will be planting roots in Seattle, Washington, a city we both know and love. We signed a lease for a great little loft in the Fremont neighborhood and we each begin new jobs in February. To say we're excited is a HUGE understatement! It is such a joy to be back in the Northwest, putting down roots, investing in friendships, and building community again. The possibilities seem endless :)
Your words are very beautiful, Emily. Thanks for sharing them. I miss seeing you and Patrick around here. -dianna
ReplyDeleteWelcome home my Children! so proud of YOU! Life experiences teach us so many lessons,....now you start a NEW one, enjoy the ride,... Seattle is BETTER today! Les amo mucho! Tio Eddie
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