I have been anticipating today for several months now–so much so, in fact, that last night felt more like Christmas Eve than the real Christmas Eve has felt in years. I stayed up late, finally reading myself to sleep not long before 3am. When the alarm gave notice of this new day dawning at 6:30, I was up and running shortly after. I didn’t want to risk a choice spot in the mix at terminal 1, international arrivals (the people-watching mecca of our time), so I pestered Jason to get us there extra early “just in case,” and we waited and waited until two lovely and familiar faces rounded the corner, fresh out of customs. My sister, Bridget, and her friend, Cheryl, have come to join us in Africa for the next two weeks. And as we near the half way point of our year here in SA, the timing of this visit could not be more perfect…
Seeing “Boo,” as I affectionately call her, marks a first in seven months–the longest I’ve ever gone without spending time with my sister. For some, I know that seven months would seem like a blip on the screen, a natural passing of time. But for me, seven months of no sister time has felt like an eternity, and now she is finally here.
In some way, the airport pick-up, the drive home, the settling in all felt natural. (This of course, has become our routine with each visitor who journeys to Africa.) Even the unpacking of suitcases, lunch in our bedroom–none of it felt anything but normal to me. Somehow, though, normal evaporated and raised the bar on its way out when we arrived and began to register genvox children in Katlehong this afternoon. Bridget and Cheryl, tired beyond tired from their travels and layovers, sat down to meet the newest faces of generationvox. Fresh off the airplane and just barely getting their bearings on African soil, the girls collected information on child after child, and while they did so, I watched as two worlds–two very different worlds to me, collided.
The result of this intersection I’ve never had the privilege of coming to before was something incredibly beautiful. Two parts of me–one, Bridget, the other, Africa, melted together for a few moments into something so fulfilling that I can’t put words around it. Because of this, I’m sitting here, long after the girls have gone to bed and on the cusp of another new day beginning. Looking to tomorrow (and the next day and the next), I can’t imagine the memories we’ll have created in just two weeks time, this season of our lives one I know will be etched in my heart forever. If there is surreality for me, this is it. This feeling of unspeakable blessing, of ministry hand in hand, of nurturing each other, of nurturing ourselves. My sister has come a long way to Africa, and today, home feels right at hand. Home. In Africa. Surreality becoming reality overnight.

This post was originally blogged on 14 Dec 2007 @ 12:23am from Johannesburg, South Africa