Hurting for Home

I know I've known loneliness before, but this is different. It's isolation. It's a test.

I know God gives us no more than we can handle. I know His strength is made perfect in our weakness. I know full well I am never alone. Why is it so hard to believe these things?

I wake every morning to a dull ache in my heart. I hurt for home. I yearn for people to love me and hold me and reassure me that everything will be okay.

This is so hard. I try to put a strong front on, but ohh...the weight of all this is so much!

Every day I end up enjoying something during the day, but the despair returns every morning.

This experience is different than almost all my friends international experience. I did not come with friends, or a significant other. I did not come with a support group. I do not have a roommate. I am not a university surrounded by people who know a little English. I don't even know another native English speaker that lives closer than 45 minutes.

I don't mean to have pity parties, but I do...often. I cry almost every time I finish talking to mom and dad. I even doubt that people I have met here even want to hang out with me.

Why is this so hard? Why has the Lord brought me here?

I reach the point every day where I've talked myself into moving back home.

I have always thought of myself as a strong individual...but I don't know how true that is anymore. If I were on vacation here, it wouldn't be a problem. But knowing I am here for a year is daunting. I have had every intention of going home for 2 weeks during my winter break but I am not sure I would have the strength to bring myself back here.

If you read this pray that I can hide myself in the Lord. I seem to be very bad about that. I know He wanted me here, but I didn't realize it would be such a test of faith. I need Him more than ever and yet I run so infrequently into His arms.

I need you, Lord, to be the strength of my heart. I have none. I must fully rely on you.

The truth of the matter

Mostly everything in me wants to pack up and go home at this point.

My head swims every day with a language I don't know and my self-consciousness is in overdrive from the glares and stares of every day life. I am the minority. I don't fit it here. Every where I go I am an object of attention. Some people are crazy nice...I have gotten so many "you are very beautiful" or "you look like a celebrity" comments, but still they don't sink in. I know I'm just something different to them and they have limited English knowledge...haha!

This is a strange place...different sites, smells, culture. They don't say anything when you sneeze. They eat soup, rice, and kimchi with every meal. They don't respond to hand waves but to head bows. The streets stink of foul smells and all the women wear hiiiiigh heels. I miss clean, crisp air and trees and southern hospitality.

When I talk to people who encourage me I am near tears. I miss people. I am an hour from anyone I am friends with here. I miss hugs and deep conversations. I miss my family and my dog and hanging out. I even miss driving and having easy transport of items.

This is where God has called me. He made it so obvious. I know all my friends who have been missionaries have said, "your call is the only thing that keeps you there" and now I believe it whole heartedly. My whole body aches for home. But deep in my spirit I know the God of peace and purpose has prepared a life for me here. I am here because He wants me here. No longer for selfish reasons...I'm here to honor Him. If I can keep that in mind...remember I am ultimately here to shine my light, my spirit will settle in to this place that is so foreign to me. I am home.