There is a wee bit of irony I realize. Posting to a "Jenn in Africa" blog, when Jenn is, according to the untrained eye, very much not in Africa.
It seems that aside from a very brief hiatus to the tropical island of St.Martin, the majority of this last year has found me in Canada - the true north strong and free, if you will. And, I have no complaints about this beautiful country or the beloved family and friends I found here. Or anything here really. I know that I have been blessed beyond belief. I know that I have been given so much in almost every area of my life.
And I know that "to whom much has been given, much is expected". I think that is why things like this rock me to the core. Why after watching it 5 times in a row, I have yet to dry my eyes.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OSdP6PqsbJY
"Something along the road cut me to the soul". Every line. Every face. Every single little clip of Sara Groves re-enacting contrived significant moments with the locals reminds me of a friend or a moment that I can't let go. Reminds me of the 6 months that destroyed the girl I used to be, and made me the slightly idealistic, irresponsible, unconventional, yet still drastically naive girl that I am today. Someone who believes that her efforts to change a broken, hurting world through direct service is worthwhile. Someone who thinks that changing lives doesn't always mean saving lives, but that a changed life is worth the effort. Someone who thinks that every single person's story is worth hearing. And that the very act of listening to a story brings healing.
These past few weeks, I have been reliving my 6 months in Africa. I have been trying to make decisions about how to proceed with my career. I have been craving the peace that I know can come from nothing other than holding a small African baby to your chest and having him fall asleep.
And, the only conclusive deduction I have made is that my heart has been absolutely broken. It wasn't about finding myself. It wasn't about seeing the world. I havn't gotten over it. This is just the beginning.
I am on the brink of some fairly significant change (as far as my tiny, insignificant life is concerned) and I woke up this morning with this emotion that I couldn't even initially identify. I really have no idea where I am going in this next phase of life, however long it may be. But that excites me, because I also know that only when I am open and seeking God does He have the potential to knock me off of my feet with His plans. And, I absolutely know where the plan will eventually lead me. Back to my heart and to the people who broke it in a way that I will forever be grateful for. And, for one of the first times since I came home from Africa last summer, I have this incredible sense of hope.
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There is a wee bit of irony I realize. Posting to a "Jenn in Africa" blog, when Jenn is, according to the untrained eye, very much not in Africa.
It seems that aside from a very brief hiatus to the tropical island of St.Martin, the majority of this last year has found me in Canada - the true north strong and free, if you will. And, I have no complaints about this beautiful country or the beloved family and friends I found here. Or anything here really. I know that I have been blessed beyond belief. I know that I have been given so much in almost every area of my life.
And I know that "to whom much has been given, much is expected". I think that is why things like this rock me to the core. Why after watching it 5 times in a row, I have yet to dry my eyes.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OSdP6PqsbJY
"Something along the road cut me to the soul". Every line. Every face. Every single little clip of Sara Groves re-enacting contrived significant moments with the locals reminds me of a friend or a moment that I can't let go. Reminds me of the 6 months that destroyed the girl I used to be, and made me the slightly idealistic, irresponsible, unconventional, yet still drastically naive girl that I am today. Someone who believes that her efforts to change a broken, hurting world through direct service is worthwhile. Someone who thinks that changing lives doesn't always mean saving lives, but that a changed life is worth the effort. Someone who thinks that every single person's story is worth hearing. And that the very act of listening to a story brings healing.
These past few weeks, I have been reliving my 6 months in Africa. I have been trying to make decisions about how to proceed with my career. I have been craving the peace that I know can come from nothing other than holding a small African baby to your chest and having him fall asleep.
And, the only conclusive deduction I have made is that my heart has been absolutely broken. It wasn't about finding myself. It wasn't about seeing the world. I havn't gotten over it. This is just the beginning.
I am on the brink of some fairly significant change (as far as my tiny, insignificant life is concerned) and I woke up this morning with this emotion that I couldn't even initially identify. I really have no idea where I am going in this next phase of life, however long it may be. But that excites me, because I also know that only when I am open and seeking God does He have the potential to knock me off of my feet with His plans. And, I absolutely know where the plan will eventually lead me. Back to my heart and to the people who broke it in a way that I will forever be grateful for. And, for one of the first times since I came home from Africa last summer, I have this incredible sense of hope.