great

Just 24 hours from now I'll be hopping in the car to ride to the airport, past the checkpoint that checks under your car for game (monkey, zebra, lion, etc.) smuggling, and up to one of 6 gates for international travel. I'm leaving Zambia. Now I'm quick to say that I'll be back in January, God-willing, but for now I have to go. This ticket has been booked, and against the common thought, I may not be quite that ready to leave.

But I know it's time. It's time to share the stories of women who have forever impacted my life, of a God who if faithful to fulfill His promises, of joy inexplicable when I choose to walk in His will for His glory. It's also time for some mega-fundraising, and none of this is a surprise to the Lord, thankfully.

The trickiest part is, though, how do I communicate what these past 12 weeks have meant in my life? For a time that's felt like years with days that feel like weeks, what do I say?

"Great" will never be an appropriate response to "how was Zambia?!"

But what else can I say?

How do I communicate that from living with an incredible family and having my brother here, to living in complete isolation, to now having the most amazing friends, God has taught me the blessing of community and that we're not created to live completely alone? Maybe those nights spent alone, watching hours of TV shows on my computer were actually quite necessary. If that time of isolation was what I needed for God to reveal His plan of community to me, to know that His community satisfies above all, then for isolation, I am thankful.

How do I communicate the feeling of CiH women, my new best friends, look me in the eye at our going-away ice cream party, and tell me, "We will miss you. We love you." after all of the hardships we've faced together through the launch of this program? How do I share that even though we struggle to speak the same language most days, we've formed an incredible bond through laughter and love, a love that breaks every barrier?

How do I communicate the abundant provision of the Lord and His proven faithfulness here from friends to NGO application approval in a miraculous amount of time, to the CiH women taking ownership of the program so much quicker than anticipated, to the amazing story that's to come of what's next for us?

How do I communicate life here, in slum compounds with rotting animals on the dirt road, filled with kids with too-skinny bodies but too-big of bellies, trash piled high at ever turn, clinic lines never shortening, yet churches with singing filling the air and laughter persisting regardless of the quality of life? And what about the other life here, in pristine grocery stores with all imported goods, nearly empty movie theaters and upper-crust social events? How do I tell people that when I took my women for ice cream on Friday, that it was their first time seeing an escalator or elevator and they all wanted a "snap" (photo) with them, and that their trip to the grocery store was the highlight of their day after having gone months, years or even lifetimes without having shopped anywhere else except for the compound roadside store?

How do I communicate how corruption is obvious in every aspect of life here, that poverty is so much deeper and complicated than just a lack of money? How do I express that every "difficulty" here has a deep-rooted issue behind it, such as drivers licenses that were previously given out for bribes, so over half of drivers on the road don't actually know how to drive? Or that I'll always be charged another price on minibuses and at the market for being a "mzungu" (outsider)?

How do I express that despite every weight that tries to tear me down, every day that seems too exhausting, every issue that is more culturally complex than my American mind can comprehend, that these past 12 weeks have been some of the most incredible I've experienced in my life? When everything should've shut me down and sent me out, God has kept me in His hand, has given me grace to endure, and has shown me more of Himself through every difficult experience here.

Somehow I don't think it's all Zambia's fault though, or even life in a third-world country. I think the miscommunication really occurs when Jesus has instructed me to live a life greater than myself for His purpose in a mass of discomfort, so that the only thing that's really consistent, that's really comforting, that's really satisfying, is Himself.

So if somehow I respond with a "great" to you, know that there is so much depth behind that answer. And if communication (or lack thereof) is just another step of discomfort that brings me closer to Jesus, then bring it on.