Weary

Do you ever just get weary. The kind of weary that isn't just physical; isn't just emotional; isn't just spiritual; it's all. That's how I feel today. If I close my eyes I see a mocked up version of myself, carrying something heavy on my shoulders. Walk so slowly, trying to get to my destination, and myself so thirsty that I feel I can't go on without refreshment.

What is that verse? Like cool water to a weary soul, is good news from a distant land. (something like that)

I didn't sleep last night. Not "I didn't sleep well." I didn't sleep--at all. When I close my eyes I think of Ghana. What time is it there? Is something there waiting for something from me? I think of emails in my inbox that I didn't get to yet...waiting there for me...calling out at me to get out of bed and reply. But better judgement keeps me in bed. Instead, I sit and compose emails in my mind so that I can get them off faster the next morning. Good strategy, right?

I love Ghana. I love Ghana's vulnerable children and families. I feel a call on my life to do what I can to support them. But sometimes....just every once in a while....I desire to click my Ghana button off. I no longer remember what it is like to have a whole day where I didn't think about Ghana or adoption. And it's nobody else's fault but mine. It's not that I have some slave driver of a boss that requires me to work 6am to 10pm 7 days a week. It's not that my boss wouldn't say, "Sure, take a day off!" It's me that is unable to truly step away even when I do have a day "off."

Ghana wafts through me like the smoke off of burning trash heaps. She digs inside of me like a parasite. She is struggle, and joy. Red Red and Fried Plantains are Ghana. Spicy hot red red, burning me, and sweet cool plantains, bringing me comfort. Ghana is all of these things to me. there is no escaping her because we are now one. Turning off my Ghana button would be like ignoring my own newborn baby. I need Ghana, even when she keeps me up at night.