Two Years
Nya chases the bike around our yard. We don't know where it came from, but it has one pedal and sort of a seat.
I’m exhausted, but for some reason I don’t want to go to bed. I think it’s because if I do another day will come. But I’m tired. And I don’t want to be responsible. I wish they’d just cancel school and give us our break. I want to travel to Ganta to investigate at the bank. I don’t think I’ve been getting my pay and I want that fixed ASAP if it’s true.
It doesn’t feel like Christmas is five days away. It doesn’t feel like December is almost over. Krista and I have been in Sanniquellie for four months on Saturday. We’ve been in Liberia almost seven months. So much has changed, inside and out. I’ve found my place here… but at the expense of what?
Things in America have gone on without me. The hole I left is closing. The people I left have slowly drifted away. What will I return to, if I ever return? How will anything feel meaningful, interesting, or important compared to this?
Two years out of a long life. Two years I will guard as my treasure. Two years that will make all the difference. Certainly for me and hopefully for them…
life magnanimous 
it was years before i realized the reason i’m such a night owl is i’m trying to avoid tomorrow. unfortunately no matter how long you put off going to bed, tomorrow comes anyway and then you’re just REALLY tired.
yes, life here goes on…but even if you were here, people would drift away and leave you behind. life is all about seasons. there is no permanence in this life, humans don’t have the capacity to maintain every relationship they ever begin. you are given new opportunities in each season of your life to touch those around you and then the seasons change and you move on and once in a while you look back and wonder, “did i make things better while i was there?” that’s what we strive for, to leave each place we briefly call home a little better for having been there, whether we are remember by one or by many or not at all.
when your time there is over and you return to America or go somewhere else, that new season will hold promise of new adventures, new friends (and some old ones) and of course family; because no matter what, your family will always love you and be waiting to welcome you home or (if you need) to let you go.
we love you!
You are missed! Thank you for being there and sharing it with us in this way.