Falling, Falling

Fireworks, bricks falling, thunder, or gunshots. I never know which it is, other than being able to rule out thunder if there is no accompanying storm. I try to look out my window to see if I can spot pretty bursts of multi colours but there's the side of the building and a towering palm tree obstructing my view. So I wait. Eventually the sound dies down. I still don't know what it was.

Another airplane disappeared today. Conflicting reports debate whether debris found near a possible crash site is from the plane or not. It was a smaller one, just 66 people on board as opposed to the several hundred that have died in previous tragedies. Similar disappearances have occurred. But it's still unsettling to follow a news story and imagine the last moments of those who were on that flight. I always do that.

There were at least 3 young children on that flight. That's what always gets me. The children. Whether it's sudden death or slow abuse, I hate it when children have to suffer. They are innocent, helpless, and exposed to things they should never have to endure. It is a sick world we live in. And yet there are people out there who insist the world is getting better and there is no devil and question why we need a God. Ask the children, I say, and they will tell you the truth.

This morning I had a nightmare. After I woke myself up out of the terror, and eventually went back to sleep, I found myself in a second nightmare where I was re-telling the first nightmare and experiencing even more fear. Once again I woke myself up. I can't recall returning to or reliving a nightmare within a second nightmare before. At the same time, I'm getting over a cold and may have been too hot or feverish in the night which could have caused bad dreams.

I'm still rattled by my friend's screams in the early morning two weeks ago when she learned her father had suddenly died from a lingering illness. I woke to the sound and haven't been able to fully shake it from my memory yet. I know it's the traditional way of mourning but I wasn't prepared for it. Then seeing my other friend lose consciousness for a moment in the cafeteria and fall flat on the ground, thankfully coming to right away, yet it still shook me deep down. I've been coming too close to death for comfort lately.

I'm not sure why these things affect me so deeply. I am an emotional person which may explain why I feel so fragile, but I think it is also difficult because I don't have someone to reassure me and hold me so I know I'm not alone. If I were home, I could hug my family for comfort and they would respond in kind. Here, I walk within a glass barricade which I will shatter if I reach outside myself for empathy. I cannot break it because then I will no longer have protection but I will still be lonely.

Being in the mission field isn't a simple trip to another country, a mission, and life outside of the ordinary. This is front lines stuff and it may not necessarily be for the souls of others. It may be for my own soul. I can easily give up or change my standards to be accepted by others. This life as a single person requires dedication, persistence, and the ability to be kind to myself as I adapt to a different reality. It means learning to walk through the lonely holding to Jesus the best I can when I can't see or touch Him.

Yesterday was a day of knowing I was in the right place and perhaps it would be long-term. Today is a day of longing to be back in a land where people communicate and I understand, granola doesn't have 80 peanuts to a cup, thrift stores sell paperbacks for 50 cents, and Chipotle burritoes are stuffed with fresh guacamole. But most of all, I'm with those who love me.