No longer able to delay the inevitable

In another hour or so I head to the Entebbe Airport and leave this marvelous place behind. I'll leave it behind physically. But it's (Beni, Congo, that is) coming with me in my heart. I've decided that when I unpack tomorrow afternoon, I'll scrape the red dirt packed against the treads of my tennis shoes into a tiny China box that was my mom's. A keepsake of sorts. A reminder of the baptism of dust with which Congo blessed me.

But right now, I'm sitting on the porch here at Central Inn, and American pop/rock music is blaring on an outside speaker. I've chosen acceptance rather than frustration, anger, or disappointment. I'm learning, at this decade of my life, that it's easier, healthier, and even more joyful, to accept such incongruencies.

Today I've tried to prepare myself and imagine what transition will be like. I've tried to imagine how to answer the inevitable, "How was your trip?" Here are some possibilities:

• "Well...tell me first your expectations, then I'll see if I can answer accordingly."
• "Let's start with a pot of tea."
• "Can I show you some of the dust of Beni?"
• "Where have you seen Jesus this past week?"
• "Have you ever hung onto a vision that was so bold and audacious that other people who considered themselves 'reasonable' just shook their heads?"
• "Let me tell you about Kaza who came to Beni just finishing his secondary school--some 50 km from his home, knowing no one. He earned $20 after 3 days of hard labor, cutting and hauling wood for a stranger. The first thing Kaza did when he received that $20 was to give $2 to God. His tithe. His First Fruits."
• "Challenging. Glorious. Inspiring. Exhausting. Joyous. Unsettling. Beautiful. A reminder that I still have a lot to learn."

Interesting...the music here has changed to a Ugandan singer. The moon has risen over Lake Victoria--almost full, resting in a soft halo. The birds are calling for the evening, gathering in flocks and settling into the trees.

Thanks be to God.