Back to Africa

I'm starting to dream of Africa again. Rick and I will be leading a group of North Central students to Uganda this summer with Exodus World Service and the Refugee Highway Partnership. Two nights ago we watched a South African film called, "Tsotsi" and last night we watched a documentary about Elephants in Ambroseli National Park in Kenya. Even though it is still winter here (it's snowing this morning as I write) my mind is wandering to summer and to being back in Africa again. I've been ordering books about Uganda and talking to refugee friends here who have family in Kampala who will plan to visit.

There is something grounding about spending time in Africa, something that helps remind me who I am and forces me to reflect in ways I don't often make space for when I am here. And I seem to find God more easily there, maybe because Africa always topples and unsettles me, and also because there are deep lessons in Africa about hope and joy and simplicity. I know that I probably have overly romantic notions of the hope and joy and simplicity in Africa, but still I need to find ways to develop those in me. And I also long for Africa because being there stirs me to write and I feel like when I'm not writing I'm deteriorating.

I feel trapped lately in a season of long weariness. I'm not even exactly sure why. I feel like I am holding too many heavy things up and there is no place to set any one of them down, so even though my arms are far too tired to hold them anymore, there isn't anything to do about it. In the middle of this season the promise of this coming trip back to Africa gives me hope. Hope that the change of scenary will do me good. Hope that I can reconnect with myself and with God. Maybe even hope for a little time of escape and change. Maybe Africa can shake me loose from the place that I have been stuck.