Quick link: When Letting Go Means Leaning into Mystery
Today I’m writing at Babble about when we moved to Somaliland in 2003. I have to say this post was hard to write. Emotionally challenging, to dig back all these layers of years and try to remember what it was like in the very beginning.
The year I moved to Somaliland from the Midwest was the year a long and painful process of letting gobegan. I let go all-of-a-sudden, the immediate abandonment of everything comfortable and familiar within the space of a 30-hour airplane flight. I am still letting go, more of a slipping and grasping, as over the last eleven years the full impact of that initial release sinks deeper.
I knew letting go with this drastic of a move would require changing many surface things – the way I dressed and spoke and spent my holidays. But I didn’t realize how those surface things are rooted deep, connected to my sense of identity, the way I viewed people in the developing world, my values, even my sense of humor. I didn’t realize that letting go of what I knew, to embrace mystery would happen every single day and that it would change me to the core.
I write about what I think faith is for, about the wild and terrifying expatriate life we’ve been trying to live for eleven years now, about the things I lost and the things I learned.
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