I’ve said it before: I always miss Africa most on rainy days.
It’s raining today.
And, my good friend and travel buddy just arrived in Kenya.
It was bound to happen sometime. I’m married. She’s not. I’ve got four kids to take care of here while she has children of her heart there. Obviously, the time would come when she could go and I could not. So, yeah, I forgive her for the fact that she’s in my favorite place, with some of my favorite people, doing so many of my favorite things.
I sound so much more bitter than I feel.
I do want to go.
But, I want to go with my family.
Each time I return to Kenya, that desire of my heart grows stronger.
I want my friends to meet my family.
I want my children to see the beautiful faces and places I love.
I want the little boy who loves Wild Kratts to see some wild animals for himself. And, NOT in a zoo.
I want the girl who loves chai to drink some with me while we drink in the beauty of the country that produces it.
I want the man I love to share the experiences that make me love Kenya, too.
He sacrifices so much each time I go. I want him to see the blessings those sacrifices bring.
Boy, I have said “I” a lot.
Because that’s the thing. I do want all those things, but I also want God’s will and his timing.
Even more than I want Africa.