Building a New Garden

Four plane rides and airport sink shower later I was picked up in one of my favorite countries by my favorite person. My Jungle is a timeless place. It’s amazing to me that I can be graduating college, surfing in Florida, and then the next day, be in an entirely new place, driving on a bumpy dirt road with a blanket of stars overhead.  Nothing has changed, and it feels like I was just here. The Asian twangy music filling the air, passing that same blue truck with mud caked on the side, rice farms filled with water buffaloes, and shack-like bars with men lingering around with empty beer bottles in their hands. The smell of my jungle filled my lungs and I soaked up the night with My Farmer’s strong back giving me a perfect pillow to rest on as he drove through the night. The world is an amazing place.

   We stopped by on the way home at a friend’s house in a near bye village to rest our legs (a two hour motorbike ride is fun at first, then begins to hurt) we sat there by the fire, sipping tea playing with my friend’s new baby that had just been born this Christmas right as I left. That initial amazement hit me again, I could be gone years but the moment I’m back, everything is the same. And they don’t want a thing from me, they are just ecstatic for me to sit and drink tea with them. I’m enveloped into their family. Into their life.

My reason for visiting has been to get paperwork and documents done. It’s a stressful business in a country like this, we got a lot of answers and a lot of work done, but still much to go. I never though marrying somebody could be so freaking hard. But amidst the stress of signing papers and getting questioned we began dreaming of our future. We went and looked at land we might buy to build our first home. Excitement settled in as everything started to feel so real. We are about to build a new life together. Our (possible) new home is in a village near his home village, but doesn’t have anybody that knows the Father. We are planning with hands open. As My Farmer always likes to remind me, “Nothing is certain.” For now we are just excited. Every so often the Father gives us little pieces of heaven. We are getting a little slice now as we feel the dirt of this rich land and imagine what our home will be like. My Farmer isn’t one to show his feelings, but even he couldn’t keep his excited smile hidden. Especially with me (the total opposite of a hidden feelings person) tugging his arm going “THIS MIGHT BE OURS!!! EEEHHH!” As he tells me of the uncertainty of everything, I’m already naming our future kids. We are a funny pair the two of us; I can’t even imagine what the fruits of our life are going to look like. But for now we are uprooting the weeds and cultivating soil rich for planting, and praying for rain.

(Our possible new land)

As I head home, as always wiping tears from my eyes. Leaving My Farmer is always like ripping my heart in two. But I am filled with comfort because I also head home with purpose. Purpose to prepare my self to be a wife, a farmer, a teacher and most of all…a servant. Purpose to soak up the time with my family and friends, catching waves, living in a house full of girls and using bathrooms. I’m heading home to be a counselor to girls and serve the people of my country before I fully adopt a new people. I head home to be filled so that my cup may overflow and begin to pour out into my new garden. Out onto the ends of the earth.