"However far the stream flows, it never forgets its source" -- Yoruba proverb
As soon as the plane lifted, I missed it. I longed for it. I thirsted for it. And then I placed it aside, because 8 more months was waiting for me and I needed to let it go... Africa, my beautiful Africa.
Africa, the place where time does not matter, where earthly possessions has little to do with worth, where smiles are highlighted white, where laughter is the universal language, where grown ups dance and children run, rivers flow and skies become alive.
It was in a bus 13 500km away from my home, where I realized what was missing, what I left forgotten and tucked away in the farthest compartment of my heart. That's what I journaled when I realized what I missed. I thought I missed my home where my family lives and my friends works and studies. I was wrong - I did miss home, but my home was called Africa. I looked outside of the window and saw beautiful green landscapes, but nothing compared to the dusty roads, blue skies, fierce sun and green valleys of Africa.
I was struggling with a question for some time. What is your passion? I first had to ask what is a passion? My team member explained: "That thing that makes your heart beat faster."
I was busy reading a book: Kisses from Katie. It's about a missionary in Uganda. I sat in that bus, crying, yearning, longing for the brokeness and need of love of the children and women in Africa, boys and girls in need of love, God's love, which He was longing to show them. I wasn't just born in Africa, but Africa was born in me.
Africa, you make my heart beat faster.