Six Months

Today marks six months to the day that we landed in South Africa. It's hard to believe that much time has already passed, and in other ways it feels like we have now been here for a much longer time.

We had some things to attend to in South Africa, so we made the trip seven hours southward to my brother's house for the week. The night before we were to leave, my dad came down with a horrible sickness. He decided to stick it out and make the trip anyway, and I'm so glad we did. By the time we got here and got him to a doctor he was much worse, and it was soon confirmed that he has malaria. We are fairly certain he contracted the malaria while in Zambia, although Francistown is considered a malarial area.

So he's been recovering this week, while we get service done on our vehicle and attend to some other things. Someone jokingly said there are two stages of malaria - being afraid you might die, and then hoping you would just die. From his testimony, that seems to hold true. :) Poor guy, he's feeling much better today although his appetite and energy levels are drastically small.

Today, I am missing home. Home in PA, that is. The kids watched a Sunday school video, recorded months ago, and I was the teacher, singing and drawing and teaching my class. It was strange watching myself in that familiar role, something I was so comfortable with, but something I may never do again. We were able to connect and watch the live video stream of our home church's morning service. It's been months since we had an internet connection strong enough to do that. And I found what I missed - beyond the fellowship and the friendship and the American-style expository preaching - was the music.

At the same time, I am reluctant to say that I am ready to go back to that home, because I am so happy and so content to be here. I know this is where God wants me for now, and in some ways it is hard to think of changes that will one day come. If there is one thing I don't like about my life, it is this - the constant heart-tearing and heart-splitting that happens. Never completely at home, always missing somewhere and someone.