The post actually brought me to tears because there was just so much truth in it.
Just as an example...
This weekend, we went to my friend Angie's house to celebrate the 4th of July (yes, on the 5th, because the 4th was a work day for us here). We BBQ'ed and ate and laughed and did fireworks and all things 4th of July (Ghana-style...those fireworks were a bit life threatening and the rain left a muddy road that almost kept us from going at all and our BBQ definitely featured Ghana-style cookout meats and fruit included grilled pineapple and plantain).
Let's just say that I ate my fill.
And then, around 1 in the morning, I decided that all that food wasn't worth the trouble.
You see, back in January, I had some really annoying health issues when I was back in the States. Since most of our food here in Ghana is fresh and not processed and since we have very limited access to milk products, my body did not react too positively to the food back home and my gallbladder made it very well known. I was in pain for the better part of a week.
One night, when I was speaking at a youth group meeting, I was praying over my body and the pain disappeared. I was so grateful! But, it taught me that my pain was self-caused and I needed to monitor my diet more closely.
Well, by 1 am, after eating all that delicious 4th of July food, another attack came on, keeping me curled up in pain until 7 in the morning before I finally drifted off to sleep. Sunday, I was pretty much incapacitated.
I talked with my mom about it, and, well, that brought more tears as what do you really want when you are sick...someone to comfort you...like your mom. And she told me that the option is available for me to come home and get treatment if the pain continued. But, everything inside of me said that there is no time for this kind of pain or a flight home for treatment. There is only just dealing with it and hoping it will pass in time. And it's frustrating to not have access to proper medical care or to worry about where the money will come from if I do need to fly home for treatment since I have no insurance since I live abroad full-time.
And I got a letter from my friend that same Sunday which brought on another bought of tears as I just longed to be there, to hear her voice, her stories, to talk and laugh and cry and encourage and challenge. I missed her. And I felt the many miles between us. Because it's true, my heart is now always in two places...two homes. Always longing for one or the other.
And when I thought of that blogpost, I realized there is so much I don't say to protect the people who support me. There is so much that has to just be dealt with because I don't want to worry people or make others feel bad. There was just so much truth in that post.
And yet, I am also eternally grateful for the many that ask the hard questions. That write me long letters like conversations so I don't miss out on a thing. For the ones who want to hear the hard stuff, even if they don't fully understand. For those that encourage me to slow down and take a break. There are so many and I am so blessed.
I don't want to take away from them all that they pour out and in to me. It's so needed and I am so grateful.
But, today, I am just sitting in the truth of that blogpost, missing home and people and faces that I know and know me well, and thinking of the hard that is being a missionary.
Take your time and read through that blogpost and encourage the missionaries you know in your life. It makes such a difference!