Sometimes God speaks and we simply don’t want to hear. I think I have been like the child with her fingers stuck in her ears saying “lalalalalalalalalalalala” at the top of her lungs to avoid the unwelcome news being spoken.
Because there are moments when I just don’t understand God.
And times when I don’t want to understand.
Times I just want it to work out the way I think it should, wrapped in a nice and tidy little bow that makes everyone involved happy and causes me little to no pain. Thank you very much.
“Warning: Love causes extreme emotional imbalance.”
On the good days you float along, noting the beauty in every detail, and you soar on wings of happiness you didn’t know before. However, the pain you feel is unmatched on the not-so-good days and the battle wounds seem to take longer to heal.
When I first came to Ukraine in 2009 I was unimpressed and ready to go home. Within a matter of weeks, my heart was captured and I knew life would never be the same.
Life in Ukraine has brought more laughter than ever before (and I’ve entertained my fair share of strangers trying to navigate cultural potholes). It has also driven me to my knees countless times and found me in tears all too often. People never cease to amaze me with their generosity, creativity and patience. They also confound me with the lack of logic found in every day encounters.
I cannot fathom what Ukrainians feel during recent months. I know how deeply I feel about the things I see, hear and experience and I can only imagine that it is 100 times more to each of them.
And so I find that I don’t understand God’s timing. I can give you a list of reasons why I’m coming home. They are all valid and true, but really I don’t know why. I just know it’s right. I just know it’s necessary. I just know that I have to follow His leading. Even if it feels, in some ways, like walking in the wrong direction.
I cannot imagine life without this place, without these people, without my Ukraine and so leaving I cannot help but trust that I will return.
But if the past several years have taught me nothing else, they have taught me to hold onto expectations loosely.Â We have no idea what a year may hold.
In a few weeks I’ll be back in America. I am not the girl who left several years ago. Since I have been home for visits since then, you and I both know that is true. But this time I don’t have a ticket back, and it’s going to be a tearful time.
So please be gentle with me, I’m a bit fragile at the moment.