So here I am, adding a post to a website long forgotten. I, like many of you, was spending my last, I hate to admit it, but yes, hours before bed, "surfing" the web; moving from page to page, from link to link; checking my friends updates and latest wall posts. It is amazing, if you really think about it, the amount of information that enters your mind, consciously and unconsciously, at the simple touch of a button.
After moving through my wall feed and updating myself on my friend's latest happenings, I found myself on my own profile and, for the first time in a long while, took notice of my own neglected website: "Jenna in Uganda". Originally created as a means of communication between me and those who had supported me either financially or through thoughts and prayers; a means to feel connected with the life I had always known as I traveled Eastern Africa. Eastern Africa, a place separated geographically from "home" by thousands of miles of ocean and land. A place separated from civilization by hundreds of years; a culture almost seemingly frozen in time.
So, what does one naturally do when finding oneself on an old blog (and when lacking the ability to go to sleep)? Well, blog of course. Why not? Most of my friends and family, if not all, have long forgotten this website, as myself have done; it's purpose served once I made it safe and sound back to good old NC. But, who knows, maybe someone will find him or herself on my website once again and learn something meaningful out of my after midnight wandering thoughts and ramblings.
I traveled to Uganda, Kenya, and Tanzania in the summer of 2008 after completing my first year of nursing school at UNC. It is mind blowing to think that it has already been two years. I know I have said it more than once before, but my trip to Africa seems a distant dream; my pictures and journal, as they sit on my shelf collecting dust, the only proof I have to myself that I was really there. How quickly we make promises to ourselves that we will do this and that tomorrow; how quickly we set goals and aspirations for our lives. And how quickly we make up excuses for why, when that faithful day comes, we are not ready. We need more information, more money, more strength, more courage, more faith, more time. But will we ever really have enough?
I know many of you might be thinking that it has only been two years and that in the grand scheme of things, two years really is not that long. And, I know many of you might be thinking, you are only 24, so young, and with plenty of time to live your life and accomplish said goals. But I cannot help but look at my life and the routine I have already settled and sunk in to in only two years. "People" talk about how fast life passes you by and I hate to think that, at the pace my life is currently going, one day I will wake to find that two years has turned in to 30, the timing never being quite right.
When you feel God's pull on your life; when you search your heart and soul and really listen to that "inner voice", you know where you are supposed to be. And when you fight against that call, two years can seem like a lifetime. But, when you trust God, and earnestly, with fire and passion, follow God's call on your life, you truly begin to live. Your life becomes alive.
I went into nursing because I wanted to help people, to meet people, and to love people. I wanted to live out Christ's love for me through my actions; To be used as a means for God to reveal His compassion and power to the patients, families, and coworkers I interact with on a daily basis. And yet, as I sit here and think about it, I realize that I have worked as a nurse for over a year now. I have slowly let myself become jaded; I have slipped into a routine and forgotten what really matters. I allowed myself to become frustrated and overcome by the politics of the hospital and by the daily irritations of taking care of people who try to hit you, kick you, spit on you, and curse at you. I became overwhelmed and frustrated by the reality of such a stressful profession, and ultimately, just allowed myself to stop caring, or at least to pretend I did not care, and to just come to my job and do what needed to be done for the sake of doing it. A protection mechanism. To pretend as if I could be unaffected by pain, my illness, and by death. To pretend I was a wall, incapable of being breached.
It kind of reminds me of a quote by CS Lewis from Mere Christianity: "Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will becomeunbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable."
In a way, that is exactly what I have done. Locked myself up so tight, that I sometimes fear that my heart is becoming incapable of being broken and even more fearful, incapable of love. I often find, after a long, hard weekend at work, after tieing my patients down, or trying to resist the urge to ignore their persistant nagging/call bells and cries of help, that I often have to "pinch myself" to check and make sure I am still alive. I often have to sit down and ask myself if I still know what compassion is, or empathy, or patience and if any such qualities still exist within me. If the weekend was hard enough, I sometimes fear that it may have been just enough to make me lose such qualities. Is that possible?
And then a light turns on; a dim and distant light. A light covered by dust and cobwebs. I find myself back in Africa; a time in my life where I felt most alive. A time in my life where my faith was a living, breathing thing. I was unconstrained by stereotypes, judgments, and the opinions of others. I could do all things because I had God behind me and, because of it, nothing was going to stop me. I had a fire and fervor for life and to explore every corner of the world and to meet as many of her people as possible.
It is in this blissful memory and moment that I can forget the distance I have created between God and myself; the barriers and walls I have built, brick by brick, day by day. The casket or coffin I safely locked my heart away in.
There has to be more to life than the daily routines and running errands; to the "have-tos" and "must-haves". More to saying goodbye to your family, going to work, paying the bills, and then doing it all over again in the never ending cycle. Where is the adventure? Is it possible to use the gift God has given you, to make a change in the world, and to leave a legacy in such a mundane way? (And as a little side note, for some of you, it is possible. For some of you, you were created to settled into one place and to live as an example to that specific community. You just cannot get caught up in the routine and forget what we were all really created for: to increase God's Kingdom)
It is always perplexing to me how patient God is; no matter how much we mess up and stray, He remains faithful to us. A patience that serves as proof of His love and how much He wants us to just love Him and follow Him. The daily reminders He leaves us to show us He is still there, waiting, hoping we will open our eyes, minds, and hearts and choose the right path. The appropriateness and timing of events in our lives is no coincidence but God's perfect plan. That upon opening my blog, the first quote to flash upon my eyes could have not been more appropriate at that given time:
"The place God calls you to is where your deep gladness and the world's hunger meet."
A collision of your deepest gladness with the world's hunger. A gladness specifically given to you as a gift from God, deeply seeded with your core. I can not think of a more beautiful way to spend one's life in this world.
So before I end up writing a novel right here on my blog, I will propose my plan. A plan I have spoken with to a few friends and family, but only in casual conversation. A casual conversation ended with possible doubts of, "is it even possible?", or "is she crazy?" A trip around the world. Three months spent on every continent of this world. I am not sure to which countries yet or how exactly I will spend my time. All I know, is that I want 18 months of non-conflicting time; 18 months to live a part of my life as I believe God created me to do. To travel with my mind and my heart. To help people, to meet people, to love people. To live out my life as an example of Christ's love through my actions and my words.
This proclamation is not only a promise to myself but also to serve as a means of accountability. To be held accountable that when that faithful day comes, I will not be pushed back in fear. That my time, my faith, my courage, my information, and my compassion will be enough. And that God will lead me every step of the way.
I know this blog was originally intended for my trip to Africa two years ago, but I think it is time to renew it for my future adventures and travels. Any words of encouragement or any thoughts and prayers would be greatly appreciated.
Alright, time for some sweet sleep. So, as I used to say, Nenda kwaheri.
Ah yes, and before I forget the most important detail, my estimated time of departure on said trip around the world is roughly set for Jan 2012 when my contract with work is completed.
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