Bridges

95% of the time I’m a really good driver. I’m cautious, I follow the rules, and I don’t speed. The other 5% is because the majority of my driving career has taken place in Rwanda. Sometimes I do some things that make me want to get out of my car and walk over to the other driver to apologize. I drive through a stop sign, or swerve around a car in a “no passing zone” (with an oncoming car in the other lane) and I don’t think anything of it…until the other driver honks at me or gives me a confused look. If you’re reading this and I’ve cut you off or seemingly narrowly missed your vehicle, I apologize. It’s a habit, and I’m trying to break it.

Speaking of driving, the other day there were some pretty heavy showers. I was driving down the highway and every time I went under a bridge the rain “stopped.” Obviously it didn’t really stop, but for a second the rain stopped pelting my windshield, and it was quiet.

I think God is a lot like a bridge. When we are caught in a storm God hovers over us. Not all the time, but when we really need it, He makes the rain “stop.” I think the rain continues to fall, but we can’t feel it or hear it because He’s blocking it.

[I didn't take this picture. Google is just so good at meeting my photo needs.]

The problem is, we can’t hide under the bridge forever. We have to keep moving because we’re running a race. We take a break, under the bridge of Christ, catch our breath, and then march on. God knows how much we can handle. He’ll build another bridge to cover us down the road when we’re soggy again and worn out from the storm. And eventually we’ll run our way out of the storm into clear skies. Rain doesn’t last forever.

Also, while we’re on the analogy of highways, there’s usually a speed limit and a speed minimum sign. There is nothing wrong with choosing to go the minimum speed, or a speed less than the maximum. It’s all right if other cars are whizzing past you. Don’t let it discourage you. We’re all at different places in our relationship with God. Some of us get to drive a fancy sports car and cruise just slightly above the speed limit while others of us get to drive an old Honda closer to the speed minimum.

I do drive a Honda, but I don’t usually drive the speed minimum. I’ll continue to work on getting rid of my Rwanda driving habits and be content with where God has me. And right now He has me in a really beautiful place. 

Moving Forward

I’m spending the summer in Hudson, Wisconsin which is just over the river that separates Wisconsin from Minnesota. I’ll be making many trips across the river throughout the summer, spending time with friends, working, and exploring this new place I’m venturing to call home.

I’m staying at a friend’s house all summer. A Kenyan family lives across the street. I just met the father, Gilbert. We exchanged a few words in Swahili and then switched over to English. At one point in our conversation he said:

Once you go to Africa, some dust gets in your lungs which you

are never able to remove, no matter how hard you try.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Africa, especially East Africa, has worked itself into my heart and dirtied my lungs with its sweet, raw dust. Africa will always have a special place in my life.

God, in His great way, has turned my heart from East Africa, for the time being. He has made it possible for me to leave and it doesn’t hurt so badly this time.

I’m learning what it means to commit to something or someone or someplace.

God has drawn me back to this region of the United States and He is giving me what I need to commit to it.

The scooter/military truck accident occurred three weeks ago today. The accident redefined my final days in Rwanda and I had reason to be bitter about it. The accident redefined my initial days in America and I had reason to not reenter well. But I did leave well and I did reenter well. The accident revealed another side of Americans that I had never seen before. I drove through 11 states to get up to Minnesota and in each state I experienced kindness. I encountered many people who were willing to hold the door for me, or make me as comfortable as possible. As I hobbled around on my crutches and sported my stylish knee brace, people looked for ways to help me.

The kindness of complete strangers softened my heart toward this country and broke down walls and stereotypes.

I’m thankful for God’s kindness to me. He allowed the accident to happen and protected both Adam and me from anything too serious or fatal. However, He allowed me to get just enough injured so that I could experience the kindness of Americans. He brought friends into my life and then, just for fun, He brought me to a house with a Kenyan family across the street. 

I can breathe just as deeply here as a I do in Africa. I can allow my lungs to be filled with the dusts of Minnesota and let it work its way into my heart. I can commit to it. I can allow it to be my new home.