Reflection

It is, today, exactly one month since I left the, "Green City in the Sun." It seems longer, and like my time there was a dream. I think of the people and the amazing times that we shared together in a place that is so far from my home, and it is difficult to believe that it actually happened.

4 weeks ago I was in Africa, working with Somali refugees, shooting documentaries in the slums, and meeting every morning with the Church Army Interns to study God's word. Now I am back in Pittsburgh, in my old home, with my old friends, and trying to figure out whats next for my life; basically where I was before I left...at least externally.

Perhaps most confusing is how the changes that took place internally, in Africa, fit or break the life that I lived previously; the life that I am now, again, externally immersed in. A quintessential internal struggle with the outside world I suppose.

Nairobi was amazing. I loved every second I spent in the country. The food, the culture, the people, the work; all of it. I would not trade the time I spent there, or the people I got to spend it with for anything in the world, and I will surely never forget it.

Recently, I had a small number of the 1500+ photos taken, printed up, and even just looking through them is like looking at still frames of a dream. I haven't taken the time to go back and read through this blog, but I am sure that when I do, and bring the memories back to the surface it will be beyond surreal.

God blessed me so magnificently on my travels. I never had any issues of protection, never got sick, never went hungry, even the bed bugs/fleas are an episode that I look back on now with a large smile.

My time in Kenya was magical. The Somalis with their extremely inspirational testimonies, people coming to Christ in Northern Uganda, the Academy students in Mombasa, playing cards with Benjamin, ping-pong with Sarah, Big Chicken Inn with Lillian after church, laughing with the interns. It was too wonderful, too enjoyable, too blessed to be real. Its flawlessness is what makes the memories seem so unbelievable. I'm sure I have already romanticized certain memories in my mind, but really even while the events were occurring I remember saying to myself, "Is this really happening?" Like when I was on the back of a motorcycle, speeding down an old dirt road in the heart of rural Africa, nothing in any direction as far as the eye could see but small rocky mounds, bush, and sand. The sky was nothing but blue, the wind whipping past my driver's helmet, and Benjamin, riding a couple of meters in front, looking back at me smiling; I could do nothing but think to myself, "Thank you God." Even then, at the very moment I was encountering it, it seemed too surreal, like I was watching a movie unfold in front of my eyes.

Yet it happened, and now it's over. And like any individual, after any situation, I am forced to determine how I will to respond to it. How do I move forward from it, learn from it, embrace it, honor it, and pass it on?

I can verbally say the answer, the answer I know to be correct. But any real, true, answer is lived, not spoken. So my answer to these events can only be shown in my actions moving forward, and I ask you all to keep me in your prayers as I attempt to do so.

I thank you for your generous support, for making this dream a reality, and for helping me along the way in forms you may not even realize you did. This is my final post. Thanks for reading, it has been a joy to write. God bless.