I recently entered into a season of rest that required me to leave East Africa.
When I left, there were so many fears. "Do I have a place to belong? Has all of this been for nothing?"
My biggest fear: "Life is going to happen without me. I'm missing out on so much."
Three months later, and I've seen that it's true. Life has and does happen without me.
The work in East Africa is continuing. Local brothers and sisters are growing in the faith and God is continuing the kingdom work.
Problems have risen that have had to be given over to God. Relationships have been built and stories have been exchanged that I might not ever hear.
Holy spaces have been created and divine reminders have been given.
A bigger story is unfolding. There is no way we can be present for all of it. We only get glimpses. Those glimpses give hope, reason to look towards our Creator in expectation.
As life has been happening in East Africa. Life has been happening here too.
Here as in the physical place I am in. Life happens in the communities that I am privileged to be a part of. The women I get to know and dig deep with. The conversations that flow between us and trust that grows. The tension as we look at our faith. The similarities and the differences that really do make a difference.
Here as in the mental and spiritual space where it sometimes feels like darkness wins. I have grown in truths after resisting, giving in and trusting. I rest in this: the darkness has not overcome.
What a gift this waiting period is. Life happens here too.