Coping

In some ways, returning home feels like what I imagine PTSD feels like. There are so many things flashing through my mind. In many ways, I want to hide away in my room until all of the racing thoughts go away. But will they ever go away? How does your mind forget a starving child with sores covered by flies? Or children so wild they seem like ferrell children raising themselves in a pack? Or Joseph, saying good-bye to him leaving him in a home where he is being mis-treated. Although my previous trips have taught me one thing, that is, amidst all of the suffering there is joy and a deep reliance on God, this time, that wasn't always evident. How does one find joy amidst such devastation? If they can see the joy, why couldn't I? As I am finally home I'm dealing with so much more emotion than I have dealt with in past experiences. This time, I had my best friend/husband with me. It was so awesome to have him there with me. Now Africa is not "my thing" it's "our thing". I am happy to be home, but I always feel like a piece of me is still in Africa, this time even more so as we had to leave Joseph behind.