Today was another day of rest. This evening one of my team mates and a short termer came round for a film. While I was battling to overcome the technical difficulties characteristic of an Englishman trying to operate a German DVD on an American computer, we got to talking. It helped me realise how sad I am that I’m not in Rwanda any more. I was really happy there. It felt more like home than England ever has. Don't get me wrong, I’m grateful to have been born in England. I thank God for all the opportunities I’ve had and for all the privileges I’ve enjoyed – freedom, safety, education. And my family lives there, and I’ve realised this year how important family is. But honestly I’ve never felt very comfortable in England. It was different in Rwanda. I felt at ease with myself and with others; I felt that people treated me like an equal, that I could be myself. I fell in love with the people and could imagine my life spent with them, serving them, poured out for them. So in a manner I’m grieving the loss of a place I loved. I’m sad because I don't think God is calling me there long term and I need to be reconciled with this reality.
At the same time, I’m determined to make the most of the opportunity God has given me here. It's a privilege to be in Austria working with refugees and I want to give it everything I’ve got. That's why it's so important that I can process all the experiences I’ve had and be honest about the emotions I’m feeling. Admitting to myself that I’m struggling is a big deal for me. It makes me feel weak; that I’m letting the side down. I’ve been telling myself to man up, to pretend everything's alright, to fight back the tears at all costs. But I’m learning how unhealthy that can be. After all, it is in our weakness that God shows himself strong. Yes, I feel weak and broken, but I get the feeling that that's all part of God's greater plan. And all I can do is put my trust in him.
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