10 years

Today I realized that in August, it will be 10 years since I moved back to the US from Zambia. 10 years. 10 YEARS! How did this happen?
I recently talked to an MK that is in the states for a few months and going to our church, and he said he was born on deputation and had never been in the US for more than three months at a time. He's not used to it here. He just graduated high school, but he's going back to Argentina for another year. Why is this? Most people would ask, "why aren't you coming back HOME?". He is, he's going back to Argentina!
I think the biggest thing that most MK's would want people to understand is that you need to stop telling them where "home" is! They've grown up knowing two different places as home...where home really is and where other people call home is. And when they are forced to leave their real home, they realize that home is where your family is.
When I moved back to the US 10 years ago I lived with my sister, after a year, I moved in with my other sister....then shortly afterthat, I got married. Home became wherever I was welcomed and loved. I hated living in the US, I hated being asked if I was happy to be back 'home'. I missed my house, my friends, my parents. I couldn't just go visit when I wanted. I couldn't even pick up the phone and call without spending money for a phone cards and calculating the time difference. Home was an elusive place and I had to choose to bloom where God had planted me.
I still couldn't tell you where "home" really is. I just know I choose to make home people, not a place.
10 years. I just can't get over that. And I don't understand why it makes me want to cry.

Mother's Day

Ah, another Mother's Day. Another holiday designed for a family to be together. Another day where hugs should be given and presents should be opened. I didn't talk to my mom today because her Internet was too slow to support a Skype call. I didn't hug my mom today because she lives on a different continent. I made my mom a little video, but she couldn't watch it because of the previously mentioned Internet issues. I sent a card with my sister for my mom because she is visiting Zambia for a few weeks. I can count on one hand the Mother's Days I've spent with my mom since growing up and truly appreciating her as the mom she was and still is...It's one. One time. And it makes me sad...And a little mad.
I miss my mom more than anybody I miss in the whole world. I love spending time with her, I always have. I miss her advise, I miss her hugs, I miss her laughter, I miss her cheery face, I miss her cooking, I miss her talking to herself while cooking and I even miss her cleanliness! She's my best friend.  She's always been on my side. She has always supported me. She is my encourager. She always can talk sense into any situation. She sees all sides of an issue and makes you understand them too. She is my hero. She is faithful to her God, her husband, her children and her ministry. She doesn't waiver on what she believes. She doesn't back away from a fight if the fight needs to be fought. She is a women of great strength. Her children for sure rise up and call her blessed.
I might not be blessed to see her everyday. I might not be blessed to just pick up the phone and call her whenever I want. But I'm blessed to have a mom that is faithful to her calling. I'm blessed to have a mom that has given up the comforts that this world has to offer...Like having her kids and grandkids around....To share the gospel in a land she now calls home. She has shown me that no matter the price, you always have to follow God.
So while I roll around in my sadness today, tomorrow I will still know that God doesn't make mistakes. I've too few Mother's Days with my mom because somebody else needed to spend the day with her. Somebody else needed her to impact their life. Somebody else needed her to love them and show them Jesus.