I have had to leave Zambia. Believe me, this trip was not a part of my plan, nor were the digestive problems causing the trip in the first place. And yet, here I am- sitting in what feels like an entirely different world, the Johannesburg airport. When I got off the plane from Lusaka, I stepped into what I believe was the most high-tech bathroom I have ever seen. I went to wash my hands at what looked like a slightly downward-sloping granite countertop, where the water gently cascaded onto the flat surface before being guided into a crevice leading to the drain. Very fancy.
Then, to dry my hands, they had one of those NASA-style blowers; the ones where your skin goes all funny and you find yourself completely dry within 0.3 seconds. I’m pretty sure the electricity needed to power one of those things is the same amount used on a given evening by a small neighborhood in Lusaka. Again, very fancy.
And so, I am already missing dear Zambia. I know it won’t be long before I am back, and that I really need to figure out what is going on inside my paining stomach and cramping intestines. Doesn’t change the fact that I’ll miss it every minute I’m not there.
Will you pray for the doctors to have wisdom in administering tests? Would you pray that some sort of result is found, and perhaps even a way to treat the cause? Will you also pray for my heart as it longs to be content with God’s plan even and especially when it does not match my own?
Then again, with every announcement of bad news, there usually follows some good news too…
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