Awkward

I am awake too early on the tenth last day, finding myself in an awkward space.

At first I don't know what to call it.  Limbo.  Transition.  These are words often used to describe the place of not being exactly anywhere in any solid kind of way.  These are words that float around in my sleepy but not sleeping head.  Whatever it is, it's vaguely uncomfortable and somewhat annoying to wake up to.

I decide to get a head start on this awkward tenth last day, and get myself up out of bed.  And when I do, I find that there is an uncharacteristic mental muttering going on as I shower and dress and prepare for the day.  Normally, I love mornings, and look forward to what lies ahead for any particular day.  But today, I mutter, mentally. 

Ten days.  Ten days!  Why don't I know more Thai?  I'm still so curious about how this gringjai thing works.  What's it like to actually spend Christmas here?  And hey!  How did three months get reduced to ten days in such a short period of time?  How is it possible that in ten days I will be done this once-in-a-lifetime experience, planned for, for over two years?  How can it be that in ten days, this gift will run its course, and I will end something that has provided so much deep enrichment to my soul?   And while I most certainly intend to come back, right now I can't see how it will ever be for this period of time, this kind of intense deal, ever again.  And there's a sadness for me in that.

And then comes the awkward part.  Because I want to go home too.

Three months is long enough to be away from home.  Three months is too long to be away from Ken and my family.  I miss Christmas, the Christmas that happens before Christmas. And I need to be home for Christmas. And then there's the hard but true fact that in three months many things can happen in a family, and they did.  And I need to get home and be part of those things.  And in three months so very much can happen in a church community, and they have.  And to that church community I am still very clearly - in my mind for sure - called to love and lead.   I want to go home.  And there's a deep longing for me in that.

Awkward. 

These three months, the fresh cool of the morning is my first joy each day, walking in the dark with the stars along the road between the guest house and Hot Springs.  And it's in the fresh cool on this tenth last day that I decide something important. 

I will embrace the awkward.

I am here, right now.  I will embrace being fully here, right now.  These last ten days no doubt hold the same abundance of grace and wonder and life that has lavished me the last three months of this stay.  I would be a fool to miss out on any of it just because this space is awkward.

And I am going home.  In ten days.  And I will embrace the journey and the arrival and the "Bam! It's Christmas" and all the catching up there is to do, and, oh yes, the jet lag, and the missing of my Thai family, and the Celebration of Life for my Mom.   And I will let that be wonderful and disorienting and awkward and hard and delightful.  And I will be patient with myself, because coming home will be no small deal this time.

I arrive to morning devotions un-awkwarded and ready.  I realize with some pleasure that I can almost sing all of the songs in Thai as Fruk leads on the guitar.  And Suradet's lesson, given in Thai is also pretty much at an 80% comprehension level.  This is new, and a bit of a relief after two weeks of what felt like a regression due to the serious mental distraction of first stages of grieving Mom.

Ten days.  Ten whole days left.  Let's see what God's saved for the last.