Going "Home"--The Constant Struggle and Some Other Thoughts on Christmas

Today is December 6^th. Not a spectacular day by any means, but it means Christmas is approaching. Its hard to be in shorts and t-shirts and knowing Christmas is so close. It doesn’t make sense. When we were little we had to bundle up by this time putting on many layers of clothes and we may of even had a snow day or two. We would see Christmas displays in stores and when driving at night my siblings and I would have contests to see who could count the houses with the most Christmas lights (I’m still convinced my one older brother would count each porch light because he always seemed to win).

Some volunteers that where here last week found some Christmas lights and put those up and I’ve been talking about Christmas a lot in preschool. How do you explain Christmas to kids who have no concept of what it is? They aren’t anticipating Santa coming down the chimney (nor am I encouraging that), they don’t see the lights as they travel, they don’t know what “marvels” stores hold, they don’t know what it is like to go have dinner with family, and they don’t know what it’s like to exchange Christmas gifts. My biggest desire is for them to “get” what Christmas is really about. For them to see and know that Christmas is a special day simply because God—in all his amazingness, came down from Heaven—not to live a life of luxury, but to live a life of simplicity and set an incredible example for all of us. And he did so starting his life being born in a manger—a place where animals had been eating out of all day.

December sixth also means two weeks until I leave Haiti to spend Christmas with my family. This seems weird, Christmas can’t be this soon, right? In fourteen days I will land on US soil. I should be excited, but despite all my motivations—I’m not. Don’t get me wrong, I have an amazing family and I am super excited to see all of them I will get to see (especially my nephews) and I already have pending get-togethers with friends (although none scheduled), but I just can’t get excited about going to the states.

I’ve wondered why this is. I don’t like this battle. I’ve pushed it off as I’ve changed and I don’t fit in anymore, but just about every missionary in a third world country has to find their place back “home” at one point or another after x amount of years and they do it. Could I? Yes, I could, but I wouldn’t enjoy it. I feel like I degrade the people I love by not wanting to go home, but I can’t put my finger on why I don’t want to. Maybe I’ve just become comfortable here and it takes me out of that zone to go home? That’s selfish of me. I’m going to have a season (hopefully a short one) back “home” and God can use me just as much there as he can here—right?

I was reading today in my daily devotional book. I was behind because—well, there is no good excuse, so I read several days. Two different days talked about being alone and it hit me, maybe when I go home, I’m alone and I don’t like it. Not in the sense of not having anyone around me, but in the sense of no one understanding me. I get asked the same surface level questions each time I go home “How’s Haiti”, “What do you do”, “What is it like”, etc. I don’t mind answering these questions, but it’d be nice to blend in some. I was with a friend once and she introduced me to all her friends like this “This is Tori, my friend who lives in Haiti.” Can’t I just be your friend? Would you introduce someone as “This is Amy, my friend who lives in Oklahoma”? Probably not-at least not in the very first encounter.

I’m not in Haiti to gain fame; I’m here because God called me to be here. Yes, I genuinely love talking about Haiti and trying to get other people to know what it’s like and maybe even gaining a bit of the passion I have for this amazing country, but I sometimes wish I could go more in depth. When I go home, no one I talk to understands what I’m doing, no amount of words can describe where I live well enough for someone to envision it—no matter how hard I try, nothing I say could fully prepare someone for what they would see if they where to join me. None of my family or close friends have been to Haiti and few of them have been anywhere like Haiti. How do I relate my life to theirs? How do I get through their minds that we go grocery shopping at a gas station which is also the only place to get ice cream of any kind. How do they comprehend that there are no Wal*Marts or fast food places, how can I explain the living conditions my friends live in? I can’t.

This is probably why my biggest prayer right now is for my parents to come to Haiti. My mom asked me the other day what I wanted for Christmas and my response was for them to get their passports. She replied “Well, we weren’t planning on spending that much money on you.” That has been my desire for at least nine months now. I want my parents to see where I live so when I talk about things it makes sense to them, I want them to see the kids I love, I want them to see this amazing country. Why does it have to cost so much to come?

I guess I’m jealous right now and I’m working on that because I shouldn’t be. One single girls two sisters where here for two and a half weeks not too long ago, one of the families’ mom’s sister and brother in law were here for a day (they were just two hours away in the DR for a mission trip) and her parents are coming today for a week and a half, another single girl’s aunt is coming later this month and I think she has had cousins visit, another single girl has plans of her sister coming to visit in April… and I have no plans. Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly happy and excited that each of these people get to show their family their lives. I just want to be able to do that to (to whoever would come, it doens't have to be my parents, thats just my number one choice). I really want to show them this amazing country. I want them to see why I’m passionate about being here and why I don’t want to leave. I want someone—removed from it all, to understand when I talk about things. I guess its pure selfishness that I want someone to come, but it’s a desire.

Anyway, back to the devotional. It was needed at this time. They both mentioned that even when we feel alone we are never alone. God and his angels are right there with us, wrestling with our struggles. Isn’t it great to know that God—GOD, who loves the people of Haiti even more than I do, is with me. He knows what it is like to see people with abundance and desire them to give some away and watch them only benefit themselves. He knows what its like to watch people build their kingdoms with material wealth and make superficial friends and desire that they learn what life is really about. He knows what it is like to watch a church full of Sunday go-ers who do all the right things but have neglected the relationship and desire that relationship. In fact, I imagine, his feelings about these things are probably far greater than mine. What a blessing it is that we can have God with us everywhere we go and to have him understand each and every circumstance we encounter. We serve an amazing God—yes?