gypsy girl, your style is cool

sorry to be so all non-communicative, irealise that there are bloggers amongst us who, despite being in foreign countries, have managed to update regularly, whereas i, who have been in scotland (wilds of kinross-shire for a week, but still) these past three weeks have not managed but the scantest of scant posts… so i apologise. also, my keyboard is still being periodically funny. not in the ‘haha’ sense.

anyhow. really, i should be asleep right now, since in less than 7 hours i have to be at jules’ house. and i know we have a long day ahead of us. a drive to manchester, flights, train journey… more minibuses..

but i really do miss being on here sometimes.

i enjoy the news i get about other peoples lives- people i know, some (ok, a lot) i don’t. but i feel i know you. sometimes.

uhm, i still feel like P is my news, my experience.. something i find hard to articulate. its mostly best described by the things i am and was thankful for whilst there: the people; the toilet; the laughter; the hospitality; the overwhelming at times presence of God.

there are a lot of stories to share, things people say that trigger reminders, days where i can wear shalwar kameeze, the chance to sit and do someones mendhi. hearing a word from the trip, hearing songs, getting news from the team… there are lots of things that make me remember and smile.

i have great memories of david and priscilla mendhi-ing my left foot, sheep, a penguin, a smily face, ‘i love you’ (priscilla) all proudly displayed there amongst the other shapes and blobs. then, the next day, pete taking over an hour to create a design on my left hand as david slept on the couch. chats with the girls, teaching the boys how to be more like mr darcy, sharing stories of our experiences in relationships, giving advice. being sick together, the copious amounts of poo chat, there being very little left to hide. being loved in all the small ways. learning to communicate in new ways, fitting into the new culture, feeling accepted by the classes, fitting into this role of teacher…

man, there was so much that happened, that i just don’t know where to start- talkingabout the restuarants we visited, the experience of eating with your hands (and, for me, no bread to help the process), being told: God has told us you are coming back. wanting to believe that, but listening out for God’s voice, not human voices. seeing the need of so many and watching the compassion  of friends.

the beauty of simple gifts- being able to go outside, being able to laugh in the house, being able to enjoy our surroundings, being able to answer the call God put on us to come to pakistan. i’m just blown away by all the different experiences that God handed me in those five weeks. the opportunities He gave us. the blessing that it was that we all got on so well. Jesus was the glue that stuck us all together in that time, He was sufficient for all our needs and He gave us the grace to offer to each other when we were in need of it.

but i am convinced that going away is not necessary to experience this, that mission is a way of life, not just a thing for sometimes, that when you really get stuck into it, a ‘mission field’ is firstly a home. a place you live. a place you will end up knowing. a place filled with your friends and acquantances, and usually, a few enemies. a place where you love. a place where you are jesus. a Jesus place.

it’s my prayer that that is what i will be reminded of daily, weekly, monthly, throughout the next year as i struggle (no, wait, it’ll be a joy, it’s always a joy… right?) my way through fourth year. into the rest of my life. and though i know God calls us all to different places and for different reasons and seasons, i pray that i will always remember that my mission is right there, exactly where i am.

i feel that this has turned into somewhat of a ranty rambly, and i guess thats what i get for still being up at silly’o’clock.

i should turn in. i have a lot of travelling to do. pray for us all, friends.