6 Weeks

Tomorrow will be 6 weeks.
6 weeks since I said all my goodbyes and left my "African Family" to rejoin my "American family".  6 weeks since I hugged all my little babies one last time.  6 weeks since I slept my last night with my fan running to block out the sound of 300 children running around.  6 weeks since I finished work and spoke my last sentences of Portuguese.  6 weeks since little Inacio gave me a hug and sweetly shared his fears of saying goodbye with tears rolling down his face.  6 weeks since I hugged all the tias and educators who made my job challenging yet so rewarding.  6 weeks since I stared into the faces of walking miracles...children I had seen literally lifted from the dust and restored to new life.  6 weeks since I shared the impact our Mozambican medical team had on me and sweetly said goodbye.  6 weeks since I celebrated 2 years of living life together with a group of missionaries who changed me and then had to say goodbye.  6 weeks since I walked outside my home to see poverty and need staring me in the face.  6 weeks since I peacefully, yet devastated left my life behind.
Tomorrow will be 6 weeks.
On a daily, no hourly...no minute my minute...basis my emotions change.  They flip on a dime...at the drop of a hat...whatever you want to say.  One minute I feel like it has been forever since I was standing in Mozambique saying goodbye to all those I love, preparing to take the step of faith it took to come back to the States.  During these minutes, I get a bit scared.  Will I forget it all?  Has this experience actually impacted me and redirected the path of my life as I expected it to?  In these moments I'm fearful it's already fading, and I haven't even figured out what's next.  The next minute I can feel it all as if it was yesterday.  I can see all the adorable faces with their big brown eyes, I can feel each last hug, I can remember all the conversations...but then it all fades away again.  During these minutes I feel overwhelming sadness.  I miss my babies.  I miss the tias, even those who pushed me over the edge on a daily basis.  I miss the missionaries, my friends, who are the only people in the world who can understand what my daily life was like.  But at the same time, I smile in these moments.  I smile thinking of all the miracles I experienced, all the love I gave and received.  It is a very strange time.  One I'm not sure I can compare to anything else I've known.
When I first moved to Mozambique in August of 2009, I often had moments like this...I would be doing something "normal" (for example waiting for an internet page to load, getting ready to eat dinner...something "normal") and all of the sudden it would hit me.  YOU ARE IN AFRICA.  You are not in the States.  You cannot get in your car and go see your family and friends.  You know nothing of this place.  And, you are actually on the other side of the globe...literally!  What were you thinking?
But these last 6 weeks have been different than that transition.  For the first month it felt completely normal...I was home for a visit, right?  WRONG!  But because I wanted to remain feeling as if this was just a visit, I have avoided looking at pictures to create a final video, writing a final update to supporters, and updating this blog...because all of those things make this final.  During these 6 weeks, returning from the beach and starting to hunt for jobs made the move start to become real.  My first interview was a rude awakening.  This is not just becoming real; this is real.  I live in the States now.  I am not going back to all those precious babies, Mozambicans, and missionaries I miss.  Well, maybe for a visit but it won't be the same.
Where do I go from here?  This is the question I am asking myself and God.  This is the question I have no idea how to answer.  I have literally applied for over 20 jobs (pediatric floors, labor and delivery units, neonatal intensive care units, ER's, and mother/baby floors).  These jobs are all over the south east (Columbia, Charleston, Augusta, Nashville, and Greenville...and I have looked other places as well).  I have earnestly asked God to close doors and open ones He'd have me walk through.  Watching doors close is far from a heartwarming experience, but when the moment comes walking through the open one will be all the more rewarding and peace-filled.
How have I changed and what does that mean for life here in the States?  This is the question I so badly want to answer.  I'm not asking, "Have I changed?"  I know the answer to that is yes.  I am asking "how" and what's the impact of that change.  And at this point I cannot begin to articulate the answer.
What I do know is this process is difficult.  I am struggling to make conversation with people.  It is easier with people I've known a long time or those few who saw me in Mozambique.  I am struggling to care about the new TV programs everyone is talking about, yet at the same time want to spend hours mindlessly watching them to catch up before the next season starts.  In the midst of it all I know one thing...no matter how difficult this transition proves to be...no matter what feelings I'm experiencing yet having trouble articulating...I know one thing.
I serve a God who loves me.  I serve a God who knows my inner being.  I serve a God who calls me friend.  He is faithful and merciful.  He will not forsake me.  And, He will give me the grace I need to make it through each day.
That is what I know.  And that makes all the difference in the world.  That makes the moments of heartache possible.  That makes the moments of fear easier to stomach.  That makes the sweet moments with family and friends I have not lived near in 2 years all the more important.  I have certainly forgotten this truth at times, when I heard a resounding NO from a hospital I dreamed of working for or when I couldn't stop the tears of loss for all those babies I loved but may never see again.  Yet in it all this is the truth that matters.
Tomorrow will be 6 weeks.
Time will continue to move forward.  The memories will continue to fade.  I will eventually take my first hospital nursing job and move to a new place.  One day the "normal" things of America will feel "normal" again.  There will come a day I can articulate what changes occurred in me during my 2 years in Mozambique and how that has impacted my life and ministry here in the States.  But for now...
Tomorrow will be 6 weeks.