Three months to say goodbye to friends that were more like family. Our residency had expired, and the most logical thing to do was go in on a 90 day tourist visa. And when I did, I knew that we would only have three months there on our tourist visas. In December I booked our tickets to Tanzania from our furlough time in the states. Go now, or disobey." And that's when the earthquake came on full-force. He replied, "There is something for you in Australia. I had friendships that ran deep, tastebuds for chai & chapati on a cool rainy day, and dirt on my feet and I didn't even care.
#Baby mandrake how to#
How to place our clothes and linens strategically around the house to get them to dry in less than 48 hours in the rainy season. How to function by only the light of a torch or lantern when the power was out. I knew how to scare the tail off a gecko. I knew how to cook everything from scratch, I knew how to stop the ants from getting in the butter - or just rinse them off when they did. After nearly four years of life in Tanzania, I had finally become comfortable (most days). I didn't want to expect him to speak in a new way. Because, deep down, I didn't want to look for other signs. But I was looking for signs to be given in the same way they were when he told us to move to Tanzania. I justified it by looking for clear signs from Him. God whispered, "You're going to need a bigger map." I went on merrily, in my comfy, warm, Tanzanian soil, listening still, but content.Īnd then a couple weeks later he said, "You've done your work in Tanzania, it's time to move on." The topsoil got loosened, like a mini-earthquake happening in our cozy little pot. I dug my roots in deeper, my own little form of protest. Then in November, when I was busy planning (what I thought would be) an early trip home to Tanzania from our furlough in America in December, there was a tug at our roots.
(Other than a "it'd-be-a-cool-place-to-visit-one-day-but-what-are-the-chances-of-that" list). And he's probably like, "Woman, would you just stop that horrible noise!?" Hahaha.īut seriously though, Australia was nowhere on our radar. Because I'm sort of - okay, I'm definitely- screaming inside. But as he pulled us up from our comfy, warm soil in Tanzania to transplant us in a much bigger pot of the fresh soil that is our new home in Australia, I imagine he made that face too. And a part of me imagines God as Ron Weasley in the above photo.
It's left me confused, frustrated and even cold (literally). Our move from Tanzania to Australia came as a shock to us. Now, I wouldn't go so far as to say I was screaming my head off at a decibel that would cause someone to pass out. He's confused, frustrated, cold. And screaming his head of because of it. Ripped up from the warm, cozy soil he's called home.
0 kommentar(er)
