Drat, they were right.

July 27th, 2013:

A few weeks ago when I updated my blog, I wrote that I thought the theme of this trip would be “change.” It turns out, ironically, that the theme itself for me has changed.

The dominating factor of this trip to South Africa has, in fact, been more about perspectives than anything.

Sitting behind the desk in a different capacity than the last has afforded me an incredible opportunity; one that, admittedly, I haven’t always felt so grateful for.

Yesterday, for instance, I found myself ending the day with two fingers pressed firmly to my temples as I walked to the main house, the general frustrations of the day and the week finally getting to me.

It’s easy to find obstacles wherever you are – Oregon, Texas, South Africa, Australia, Indiana (the ones I can speak to) – and, because we live in society and are (hopefully) surrounded by people, those obstacles often come from differing, ahem opposing, perspectives. I recognize that this is universal, but even so, the variety of perspectives that I have encountered in my short month and change here is drastic, to say the least, compared to my other lives. (Perhaps “other lives” should be in quotes there.)

Sitting behind this desk just after shift change, eating an orange (the fruit here is wildly delicious), I’m struck by all the conversations I’ve had sitting in this office alone. Business people, caregivers, children, social workers, therapists, family, friends (South African and American), and college students among others have graced this (in my world) sacred tile floor, all with different ideas and knowledge, backgrounds and motives, needs and wants (a line difficult to navigate, not only for the children). I have sat and listened patiently (and not-so-patiently) to people making their case for the same issue with dramatically different paths and outcomes and felt very struck by how much sense they all made.

Turns out mom was right when she said life isn’t always fair. I vividly remember hearing that so many times when I was young, usually as a result of something Reed got that I wanted. But back then I pictured justice as the singular right way that things should be. It seems that life is unfair not only because something is or isn’t possible to carry out, but because sometimes, there are multiple forms of justice and not all of them can happen at once. I’ve said it over and over and over again, but where my thoughts always land is balance.

Drat, seems my dad was right too with all his talk of meditation and equilibrium.

So as I move forward, less than two weeks left with the sunrises and sunsets so beautiful they’ll take your breath away each and every day, I recognize that each day I need to allow myself to be OK with the in-between. It’s important to dwell in the in-between. It might feel as though some side effects are self-doubt and insecurity, but in actuality these are not side effects at all; they are the tools we use to prevent ourselves from wandering into the extremes: metaphorical relativity bumpers, if you will.

At 7:30, the birds chirping have been overpowered by the kids screeching (“why must you should everything?”), so I’d best wrap it up here.

Rest assured, every journal entry I’ve written still ends with something along the lines of: “I’m so blessed to be here” or “love thee Open Arms.” God is in this place, and I’m not sure what I did (or more likely what I’ll do) to earn a place in this family, but I am so grateful that I am.