Pupukahi i holomua.

(unite to move forward)

With a sunburnt nose and about 1,000 new freckles, I returned from a family vacay to Maui, Hawaii. During our week on the island of the valley, my adventuring spirit delighted in ATVing all over a red dirt mountain, swimming with a sea turtle friend, and speeding through the air on a zipline. I owe my daily enjoyment of the sunrise to the time difference and I discovered that I love macadamia nuts.

It was a battle for me to go on this trip... I was nervous about requesting vacation time so soon after taking three weekends off for Africa. What I hadn't anticipated was my struggle with the sharp contrast of the luxury and indulgence of a vacation in Hawaii with the need and poverty I saw in Africa last month. Why do we get to splurge on ourselves for an entire week when there are people who can't afford their basic necessities for a day?

It's easy for numbers and statistics regarding the poor and needy to seem cold and distant. Orphans are easier to ignore before you know their names. They are easier to ignore before you see their faces. It is easier to pretend they're not real before you hold them in your arms. But once you do, everything changes.

[Radical. David Platt]

It's a question that, unfortunately, I don't know the answer to. I don't know if it's okay for us to spend frivolously instead of using the resources we have to meet others' need. I honestly don't know if it was okay for me to be in Hawaii.

My inner tension was coupled with tension from some very un-fun family dynamics during the trip. However, I believe there is a certain beauty in allowing our loved ones to see us at our weakest. To not hide the tears. To acknowledge the hurt. Though there was pain, revealing those wounds gives us the opportunity to heal them. To learn how to not hurt each other. To be aware of the way we love each other.

Color of the day: pacific blue. the color of the warm island water, the color of a water that washes away hurt, tear, and questions; of a water that hopefully gives us clarity and healing.

ish and awe

I miss the ish-ness of Malawi: "the bus will be here around 8-ish," but pulls in at 9:30, "church starts at 10-ish," but we start the first worship song at 10:45, the ish-ness of whether the showers would be warm or not, whether the light switch would turn on or not, whether we would have fuel to travel each day or not, or whether the gate keeper would be at the gate or not. Believe it or not, I miss ish. I loved that living was so dependent on... life.

Brick red is the color of the day: the color of the red dirt roads and the red mud huts and the dusty haze that made the sunsets burn bright red.

I might have only been in Africa for two weeks, but those two weeks were filled with more moments of feeling alive than all 52 weeks of the past year combined. There were highs and there were lows and there was everything in between, but more than anything, I felt home. I found home and now I'm halfway around the world from it and it's breaking my heart. So here I am, homesick and struggling to express how or why I feel the way I do to anybody around me, and I feel completely alone.

In the midst of that heartbreak, though, is awe at God's handiwork in my life and in my heart. The complete affirmation that the deep aching desires of my heart are from Him. And that affirmation has blown away my doubts and replaced them with motivation to pursue a path that I wasn't sure was for me. 

The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.

Matthew 13:44

And now with joy- with joy! I seek to abandon it all. Why? Because I've found something worth losing everything for. [David Platt, Radical]