Tomorrow I leave to return to Namwianga, Zambia. I realize I don't have to tell everything I know, but it's really in my gene pool to tell EVERYTHING I KNOW, so I feel an overwhelming need to write that I have cried many times in the last two weeks about how thankful and humbled I am that I get to go back to these new babies at this orphanage. There will be a few faces I know, but most babies have gone home (the MAIN GOAL) , and there are some faces that I wish I could see, but I know I will see their gravestones instead. I didn't cry because I was sad or because I wish I could have gone 2 weeks earlier when the rest of the group did, or like I did last year because I couldn't go and my mom was going and I didn't think I could offer support to my family here in town on my own. I cried* this time because I am so unbelievably humbled by the opportunity to go and serve in a capacity that will be useful.
I am usually a scared flyer. No real reason except for 9/11. I can't do skyscrapers anymore, either, by the way. But I am more calm than not this time and ready to go. But please say a prayer for the 3 of us going on Tuesday. And that all the bags get there.
*I don't usually cry so easily when I remember to take my Lexapro. Must remember that.
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