Homecoming June 2013

You never get used to this. The cold-water wrenching shock of sudden farewells, the transit from one family-like community into another one, less familiar now. Once more, the students I consider my children - even brothers and sisters sometimes - are scattered to the wind and will never reform as family. It's the annual grieving. You never get used to this. 

Frankly, I'm scared about coming home to Australia. I'm scared because people will have changed, as I have changed. I'm not sure who I am in that place anymore. I'm not sure I have interesting or important things to do and say there. I'm not sure I have a place - I'll have to dig out a temporary one. And my arms are pretty tired.

I am thankful, though. This will be blessed rest in the care of people who love me. This will be a chance to get people excited about Kyrgyzstan. This is an opportunity to make new connections and find spiritual refreshment. This is God's gift of replenishment.

Now, to gird my loins and luggage and wait out an extremely tedious series of flights and passenger lounges.