Coming Home (part 1)
Auto pilot mode kicked in as our last few days in the States came to an end. I started packing the bags, making sure our overseas friend's orders had arrived, running to get final last-minute things on our essential supply list, remembering "we thought of you" gifts, laundry, leaving the house clean and orderly, writing thank you notes, having closure conversations with our kids and.... After doing this for 12 year I have begun to turn off my emotions as we prepare to return. Just get the bags to weigh under 23 kg and the the to-do list done. Stay focused. Don't be emotional. You would think it gets easier. For me, it is getting harder. Yet, numbness and years of practices means I can go through the motions mechanically and without much feeling.
I was worried what would happen when we landed back in Lebanon, and I had to thaw those blocked emotions. Surprisingly, I landed well. I could physically feel God giving me courage and strength as I faced each new day.
Lebanon is peaceful where we live (despite the fear the news creates), and life is just bumbling away like "normal". Despite the potholes being deeper and harder to avoid, the 60+ F temps equal great thawing weather. Even though it is rainy and damp outside and cold in the houses, the sun shines often and walks are easy to grab in-between rain showers.
Undeniably, a big part of my heart is in the States (i.e. our children and our 2 daughters-in-law, and our parents and more family). However, I do recognize that this is home. Here is our simple but tasteful little apartment, with its quaint backyard. Here is the refugee project that also has a part of my heart. Also, my friends, university students and my incredible house helper who comes 4 hours a week. Here is my husband's challenging job and I am proud to stand by his side as he navigates difficult and complicated situations.
Despite Lebanon functioning for 2 years with only a partial government, some things here are better than in the USA. Like being able to get a dental or medical appointment within days. Shoes rehealed for $2.00. The food. The fruit. The hospitality. The purposed living.
One thing that helped me greatly was I threw myself into projects upon my return. Getting things with the NGO (https://wovendignity.com) in order. Planning a women's ministry event where we swapped plants. Then right the next morning a wedding shower for a young couple that was married over the holidays. In addition, our neighbor has a four month old baby and I have been gifting them babysitting hours as a payback for all the church family who watched our boys over the years (a shout out to each of you, I am quite sure many of you read here). Sweet baby cuddles, smiles and coos are therapy to my divided heart.
Visiting all the refugee families is also a perfect coming home re-orientation. Their loss, their grief, their needs. Their desire to go home, but as one of our women explained, "If we return to Syria, they will make my husband and 2 teen sons fight in the army for 10 years. The pay will be so minimal we will not be able to survive on it. That is why we must stay here." And so, we work to ease their burden just a little. To give them hope in their darkest hours.
At one point while we were in the States, I was driving through our old town. Streets that had been so familiar for years. The question ran through my mind, "Ruth, what if you were still here? What if you had never left?" I thought, how incredibly boring in comparison to all that we have experienced overseas. It has been beyond rich.
And so, I choose once again to press into being content. Yielding. Putting my divided heart into whatever my hands find to do. Praising God for the strength to be present. And enjoying being, "home", in Beirut, Lebanon.
Thank you for your love, support, prayers, and concern. We couldn't do it without you, too. Especially our parents, children, and family who release us to be here.
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