Home is relative

Rafik asleep in my arms.

A lady cooking in the refugee camp

Malaylay--a 12 yr. old refugee in the camp without her parents. I'm not sure what happened

to them.

Home sweet home! Robin was my bunkmate.

Metita, is the lady in front leading the other women in song. They are celebrating the finished

school building. We had a ribbon cutting ceremony; the U.S. ambassador came.

I'm home now; safe & sound. For two weeks, my home was in Lilongwe, Malawi. I lived in a 2 person hut and showered with a bucket of heated water. Bathrooms were either a thatched outhouse or a cement hole. We had 3 meals a day which usually included sema (made from maize and similar to grits). We had beans, tomato gravy, cooked pumpkin leaves (not fond of it), rice. The food was great, but different. We woke when the sun came up and went to bed early when the sun went down. We had dinner every night outside, debriefed and shared the ups & downs of the day. We laughed and cried every day and became 24 people who grew into a family. For two weeks, this was home. There were so many highs & lows and if God didn't show up huge for me; you could see him huge in someone else's day. Things were so much clearer while we were there and it was easy to see God's handiwork; I think much because there were no distractions. No tv, no computer, no cell phones---nothing from the outside world. It was just us and the village of Kauma. We were totally focused on the vision that had been cast.

But, I think for most of us, no matter how much we tried to prepare ourselves for what we were going to experience; it really couldn't compare. The kids had nothing. I took a picture of one boy that had ingeniously built a car out of a couple wire hangers and then attached some bobbins for wheels so that it would roll and then inserted a stick so he could push it around with the stick. Paper & crayons are a luxury. But, when they sang they had the most beautiful sound that started in their toes and just bellowed out. All of them sang with such passion and happiness. Where does that come from?

I helped lead two bible studies with village women. There was probably 50-60 women and they clapped when I shared my divorce and the circumstances surrounding it. They were amazed that white people had the same problems they did. They thought that being white meant that we didn't have problems! We were able to talk about being married to an alcoholic. What one woman should do to get her boyfriend to propose to her. What can you do when you don't get along with your mother-in-law. We were able to share that the greatest hope you can have is in Jesus. Without him, there's not much.

And, now I'm home and I'm with my kids and my husband and I'm so glad to be here, but I can't help thinking about Rafik (3 year old that I fell in love with). I wonder how they are getting along and Dorothy the caregiver that has AIDS and has about a year left. She accepted Christ and we were able to get her a bible; I wonder how she's doing? I miss that home because I care for those people. And, I'm getting ready to move to another home. So, I'm coming to realize that home is where you make it and it's not so much the location, but who you're surrounded with.