Sunday, January 25, 2009

Protecting my heart

Before UG, during UG and for a long time after UG, i was obsessed with watching every movie, reading every book/magazine, hearing every story about aids/uganda/east africa. I welcomed the sadness and basked in the despair, letting Satan grab hold of my heart strings and drag me under to loneliness, anger, frustration, despair, devastation. The place where all bad feelings compound and weigh like a sack of bricks from your neck, pulling your spirit down and your head with it.

The peterborough film festival was in town this weekend and this morning there was a film playing about rape being used as weapon of war in the congo. I wanted to go 1)because my wonderful friend Raoul is from DR Congo and i love him 2)because it was about Africa and so its a given i'd want to go and 3)because i love learning about new things and new ways to help.

I chose not to go though. It would be so easy for me to slip into that despair again. That loneliness that comes from being a foreigner, having no one around who understands why you're anal about turning off lights, love flushing toilets and suddenly see Africa shaped clouds, oil stains, window hand prints etc.

My roommate Bea went to the film and said everyone sat in the dark after weeping for this women who's (this is going to get graphic....) internal organs have been actually ripped to shreds from sticks of wood. It's graphic and unfathomable and pure pure evil. And for someone who was ignorant of the situation, it's a perfect kick in the teeth regarding the situation. But its bad for my heart...and i need to be ok with not seeing it.

I need to sit in the love that my Savior heaps on me everyday and know that when i feel like a stranger....(Bea told a story of a baby drinking from a gourd of dirty water and I flashed back to the kids at Mafubira and seeing them drinking from the water they'd just used to wash the muddy floor) .....HE was there when that child was drinking dirty water. He was there with me when i would run out of my sisters house and slam the door and drive home, stopping on the side of the highway because i was crying so so hard and couldn't handle it anymore. And He's filling the deep fissure that broke open when i stepped off that plane the first time.

I've been changing and i doubt i would have changed so drastically or significantly without those bricks around my neck.

Now it's time for my to live fully in Canada. Not only fully- but happily! its nice to know that i CAN be happy here. i CAN be content......

but i still can't wait to get back....


Leigh said...

sounds so easy yet it is so hard. I think it is even harder to get over when you feel like you are the only one around that really gets it so you think you have to constantly try to tell everyone. totally understand that feeling. learning to deal with it in moments when I feel like I can hardly breathe. Praying for you.

Brandi said...

That's so wise, Amy. I know that was hard. I love hearing about your ministry time in Canada too!

I so often struggle with the tension between my involvement in Africa and here. . .I'm so thankful to be a part of our Church staff so that it keeps me centered here too. It's still a struggle.

Thanks for sharing your heart,

Rachel and Arielle said...

I love you Amy!

janet said...

good. being content is a lovely feeling.
i'm glad you didnt see that film. although its good to be aware of certain topics it doesnt mean we need to torment ourselves with images just to be educated on the issue.
P.S. maybe instead of being a nurse you should be a writer?