Some see it as the home of poverty and sickness. Others see it as that place across the world where people live in a jungles and mud huts. The rich man may see it as a place where he can send his money to help ease the suffering and his conscience. The nurse may see as the place where she can make a difference in someone's health. The missionary sees it as a place to help change lives...and all of these different views are well and good. But, me...I see it as my home.
It is the place that I have worked my whole life to get to. Even when I was young, I always knew we would end up here. We went to Madagascar for the most amazing yet difficult year of my life. We went back home, and yearned to return to this incredible place. No matter what my address has been...this is the place I have always wanted to be. The sights, the smells, the people they have all in some way become a part of me. The way their faces light up when you smile and wave. The way the young girls play clap games in the street. The smell after the rain that brings moisture to the hot, dry ground. The way the pressure builds up right before the bottom falls out of the sky. I love this wonderful place. Maybe, you can't appreciate the view through my eyes. Maybe, it's quite difficult for you to understand. But, that's okay. I understand...I love this place.
Most kids my age are dreaming of college and what they are going to do for their lives. While these things are on my mind, they are not what I dream of....I dream of a place called Africa. This is where I belong. God truly has blessed my life to be able to live it here.
Maybe this wasn't the best look into my world....I just felt I should share. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
