I leave Tuesday morning around 5 am. And I am not ready.
Given, I have things to do still: hang out with specific people one more time, figure out Europe itinerary (well, at least book the hostels. I won't really plan anything else but will just float around and spend time with friends and cool places). I have a few more trinkets and postcards to buy, a sari to ship off to one of my best friends in Korea, packing and weighing my suitcase--and getting rid of every gram I won't use when I get back home.
But I'm just not ready.
I finished my classes, and I know I'll keep in touch with 2 of my teachers, who have become friends. I have the oh-s0-exciting Hindi course completion certificate. (Which really means nothing because all my classes were private tutoring and based off my own abilities/struggles.) I must admit though, that it's nice to take a break from verb conjugation for a bit.
But I don't want to go. It's sort of odd to say it's an obligation to go back home, but it is. In its entirety, my heart is here and I know I'm going to leave it behind. I realize that I've been pampered with the free time and tourism and having the attention of way too many men (which, if you've experienced it, you know it's only fun for awhile and then the temptation of wearing a burqa comes). My entire time here, in Delhi especially, friends have been eager to show me around and do special things. And I haven't had to cook or clean except a few times at the orphanage. Add to that wearing silk and chiffon saris, and I feel as though I've been a princess since coming to India, not the regular shorts and hoodie wearing Marla who verges on becoming a workaholic to be financially solid.
I know things will not be exactly like this when I live here full-time. I know it. But I also know that my time here hasn't been all fun and games, and that the highs have come with lows. That's given me a good taste of what to pray about before moving here.
Last week at church, the preacher threw out one or two lines about Abraham living by faith and being perfectly okay with not knowing where he was going or when he would get there or anything else that would happen after that. Before, I'd always liked the story of Ruth: She went to a foreign land when she was told she didn't have to, "your people will be my people," she worked, and with God's blessing, she ended up pretty happy with Boaz.
Sidenote: I wasn't really counting on a Boaz, but let's just say after being here as a single woman, I have actually made a list of why I should get an arranged marriage if I'm still single after living here a few years ;)
But maybe right now I need to think like Abraham. Which makes sense because my blog is genesistwelveone.blogspot.com
I really think I'm coming back here. My heart says I'm never going to have an American address once I have one here. At the same time, I have to admit that God could have other plans and there could be a different reason why I have a heart molded for this country and language. (I already knew I love brown children, and a friend informed me that I have a special spot in my heart for Indian men lol). I am a futuristic thinker and it's quite hard to just trust that He will put me where He needs me, even if I know He will.
So, even if I think and want Delhi to be the place for me, I prepare to leave knowing that He may have other plans. I prepare to leave knowing that it could be a few months, or years, before coming back. I prepare to leave knowing that I just have to submit and trust that His plan is best.
In the meantime, I blink away tears in my eyes when I think about leaving. Sometimes they manage to roll down my cheeks, but I'm really trying to keep myself in check and just trust. Right now, though, I have a few
more days, so I guess it's okay that I'm not ready yet.
Given, I have things to do still: hang out with specific people one more time, figure out Europe itinerary (well, at least book the hostels. I won't really plan anything else but will just float around and spend time with friends and cool places). I have a few more trinkets and postcards to buy, a sari to ship off to one of my best friends in Korea, packing and weighing my suitcase--and getting rid of every gram I won't use when I get back home.
But I'm just not ready.
I finished my classes, and I know I'll keep in touch with 2 of my teachers, who have become friends. I have the oh-s0-exciting Hindi course completion certificate. (Which really means nothing because all my classes were private tutoring and based off my own abilities/struggles.) I must admit though, that it's nice to take a break from verb conjugation for a bit.
But I don't want to go. It's sort of odd to say it's an obligation to go back home, but it is. In its entirety, my heart is here and I know I'm going to leave it behind. I realize that I've been pampered with the free time and tourism and having the attention of way too many men (which, if you've experienced it, you know it's only fun for awhile and then the temptation of wearing a burqa comes). My entire time here, in Delhi especially, friends have been eager to show me around and do special things. And I haven't had to cook or clean except a few times at the orphanage. Add to that wearing silk and chiffon saris, and I feel as though I've been a princess since coming to India, not the regular shorts and hoodie wearing Marla who verges on becoming a workaholic to be financially solid.
I know things will not be exactly like this when I live here full-time. I know it. But I also know that my time here hasn't been all fun and games, and that the highs have come with lows. That's given me a good taste of what to pray about before moving here.
Last week at church, the preacher threw out one or two lines about Abraham living by faith and being perfectly okay with not knowing where he was going or when he would get there or anything else that would happen after that. Before, I'd always liked the story of Ruth: She went to a foreign land when she was told she didn't have to, "your people will be my people," she worked, and with God's blessing, she ended up pretty happy with Boaz.
Sidenote: I wasn't really counting on a Boaz, but let's just say after being here as a single woman, I have actually made a list of why I should get an arranged marriage if I'm still single after living here a few years ;)
But maybe right now I need to think like Abraham. Which makes sense because my blog is genesistwelveone.blogspot.com
I really think I'm coming back here. My heart says I'm never going to have an American address once I have one here. At the same time, I have to admit that God could have other plans and there could be a different reason why I have a heart molded for this country and language. (I already knew I love brown children, and a friend informed me that I have a special spot in my heart for Indian men lol). I am a futuristic thinker and it's quite hard to just trust that He will put me where He needs me, even if I know He will.
So, even if I think and want Delhi to be the place for me, I prepare to leave knowing that He may have other plans. I prepare to leave knowing that it could be a few months, or years, before coming back. I prepare to leave knowing that I just have to submit and trust that His plan is best.
In the meantime, I blink away tears in my eyes when I think about leaving. Sometimes they manage to roll down my cheeks, but I'm really trying to keep myself in check and just trust. Right now, though, I have a few
more days, so I guess it's okay that I'm not ready yet.
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