Farewell
OK, this is weird! Why did this randomly re-post?
'Beep! Beep! Beep!' I rolled over, pawed blearily at the snooze button on my watch, and the morning debate began. To get up, or not to get up? Sleeping in sounded amazing, but I knew I probably wouldn't be able to focus on my devotions once everyone else was awake and stirring. I got up, and I had no sooner stepped out the door, Bible in hand, than I was glad I had decided to get out of bed.
It was light, but the sun couldn't truly have been called 'up' yet. The world was illuminated by that early morning half-light that lends an air of other-worldly mystery to everyday objects. I walked along the pristinely swept sand of the walkway. My feet marred its smoothness, leaving behind bare footprints to be erased by the hustle and bustle that would take place later in the day. I turned off at the orange guest house, and rustled through the dew spangled grass that grew right up to the edge of the veranda. I sat down in a corner of the veranda, and the tall bushes reached up to screen me and the rest of the world off from each other. I was in my own private place of chilly concrete and busy black ants, but my devotion time was still a little unfocused this morning. I got distracted watching a gecko hunt the ants swarming around my feet. I have gotten quite fond of these geckos in my time here (in fact, I've become fond of anything that hunts ants). I'll miss the geckos' slim, smooth bodies and impertinent black eyes when I leave. When I leave. That thought had been lurking at the back of my mind for a week, and it rushed forward and tinged everything I saw with a little regret. The Mozambicans are firmly convinced that I will return, but will I? Was this morning the last time I'd ever watch a gecko stalking ants? Was it the last time I'd ever look out through a gap in the bushes and watch a Mozambican bent over, sweeping the sand clean with a twig broom, and wonder how on earth he could ever get his back straightened out again?
It seems that all of my recent blog posts have been loaded with questions. Questions that do not, as yet, have answers. Someday, though, the answers will be clear. Someday, I will know whether I am to return to Mozambique. Whether or not I ever come back, one thing is certain: Mozambique will always hold a special place in my heart. The Janie who is leaving Africa is a vastly different Janie from the one who entered it two months ago. Mozambique has my gratitude for effecting that change. Mozambique and, of course, God. And so it is farewell, at least for the present. Farewell to geckos and crows. Farewell to magical mornings and breathtaking sunsets. Farewell to all the lovely people I have come to know. Farewell to Mozambique.
'Beep! Beep! Beep!' I rolled over, pawed blearily at the snooze button on my watch, and the morning debate began. To get up, or not to get up? Sleeping in sounded amazing, but I knew I probably wouldn't be able to focus on my devotions once everyone else was awake and stirring. I got up, and I had no sooner stepped out the door, Bible in hand, than I was glad I had decided to get out of bed.
It was light, but the sun couldn't truly have been called 'up' yet. The world was illuminated by that early morning half-light that lends an air of other-worldly mystery to everyday objects. I walked along the pristinely swept sand of the walkway. My feet marred its smoothness, leaving behind bare footprints to be erased by the hustle and bustle that would take place later in the day. I turned off at the orange guest house, and rustled through the dew spangled grass that grew right up to the edge of the veranda. I sat down in a corner of the veranda, and the tall bushes reached up to screen me and the rest of the world off from each other. I was in my own private place of chilly concrete and busy black ants, but my devotion time was still a little unfocused this morning. I got distracted watching a gecko hunt the ants swarming around my feet. I have gotten quite fond of these geckos in my time here (in fact, I've become fond of anything that hunts ants). I'll miss the geckos' slim, smooth bodies and impertinent black eyes when I leave. When I leave. That thought had been lurking at the back of my mind for a week, and it rushed forward and tinged everything I saw with a little regret. The Mozambicans are firmly convinced that I will return, but will I? Was this morning the last time I'd ever watch a gecko stalking ants? Was it the last time I'd ever look out through a gap in the bushes and watch a Mozambican bent over, sweeping the sand clean with a twig broom, and wonder how on earth he could ever get his back straightened out again?
It seems that all of my recent blog posts have been loaded with questions. Questions that do not, as yet, have answers. Someday, though, the answers will be clear. Someday, I will know whether I am to return to Mozambique. Whether or not I ever come back, one thing is certain: Mozambique will always hold a special place in my heart. The Janie who is leaving Africa is a vastly different Janie from the one who entered it two months ago. Mozambique has my gratitude for effecting that change. Mozambique and, of course, God. And so it is farewell, at least for the present. Farewell to geckos and crows. Farewell to magical mornings and breathtaking sunsets. Farewell to all the lovely people I have come to know. Farewell to Mozambique.
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