Reflections on 10 of the Best Days of My Life

It has been about 48 hours since I said a somewhat tearful goodbye to amma and achen at the airport in Cochin. They wouldn't let me go through the big, glass doors without a ticket in my hand, so it was a pretty quick and slightly awkward goodbye that we said, as both natives and tourists looked on with interest.

It didn't hit me until a couple hours later that they were actually gone. I went to the senior citizens' meeting, as I do on all Wednesday afternoons. I was really, truly, and honestly feeling like my normal, cheerful self until all of the sweet little old ladies, who try so hard to take care of me, began to ask me if I was sad. Well, I hadn't been, but the question was a self-fulfilling prophesy. So then I was in the dining room, eating my snack, drinking my tea, and fighting back tears as I thought how, just a week ago at that moment, my parents and I were at the senior citizens' meeting together. I got out of there as quickly as my too-hot tea would allow me to and spent the rest of the evening alone. I'd been surrounded by others for the past 10 days, I rationalized.

When I woke up on Thursday morning, my first thought was that, this morning, I was not waking up to see my parents. While I got ready for a new day, they were flying high in the sky or resting at one of the five airports they had to visit on their way home, and I did feel a small pang in my chest as I took that in. But it passed as my mind was flooded with the precious memories of the happy moments we spent together.

Now, after 48 hours have passed and I've received word that Mom and Dad are safe and sound back in that cozy house in DeKalb, I surprise myself by being able to honestly say that I feel not even an inkling of homesickness. Rather, I feel revived, refreshed, and as ready as ever to take on the next challenges that present themselves to me. Although I never talked much about it, over the past few months, I have struggled with feelings of insignificance and questions of whether I am really doing any good here in India. Having my parents here offered me the opporutnity to see my work and my life in this country through their eyes, and what I saw was that, yes, in fact, I am doing good here, and, no, I am in no way insignificant.

My job at the college has not really been a job at all, but rather an opportunity to spend time online emailing people and posting blogs. But that is a ministry. My friends at Chacko Homes often overwhelm me with their intense desire to take care of me. Letting them do that is another ministry. And it can be frustrating to be shouted at and pointed to as I walk down the street, months after I feel like these people should have gotten used to me. But that's just a testiment to the fact that my mere presence here is a ministry. Many people, including myself, have tried to convince me of that over the months that I've been here, but I could not really believe it until I saw it with my own eyes.

Now that I've seen it, I have a new understanding of my purpose here. And I also have a new appreciation for the beauty of the life I am living here. This life is simple, but it is so much more than enough. When the day is over, this life is hot, sweaty, and dirty; but with both the setting of the sun and the glorious morning light, this life is more beautiful than words can describe. And I might not have glimpsed all of this beauty had my parents not come to remind me that it's here, if only I dare to look for it.

And so, revived and refreshed, I find myself completely ready to approach the second half of my year. And I approach this second half with my eyes and my heart wide open, looking for beauty and being ready to share it.