Home

I'm home.

***

Too many things have happened these past couple of weeks, and words are simply not enough to tell the stories. You had to be there.

I told my sister, when I visited her in Perth, that the one feeling I had the entire time I was there was the constant awareness that I was an outsider. So the most surprising thing I felt when we landed was that of being at home.

Perth is in many ways similar to Singapore -- the big city, the labyrinth of well-paved roads -- but in the unfamiliar culture, living conditions, and language, I felt -- for the first time in my life -- more home than home. To literally reach out the window for grapes, apples, pears, apricots; to lie beneath the blanket of twinkling stars -- it was an indescribable comfort. Which is not to say it was a walk in the park at all; we worked hard the entire time we were there, and hardly had any time off.

If you know me, you'll know that I'm not a morning person at all. I typically don't have breakfast, because by the time I manage to wake up, I'm already late for school or whichever appointment I have planned. Perhaps a huge testament to the kind of joy that I felt there was that I sprung out of bed every single morning before my alarm clock rang -- just too happy to wake up and start a new day.

***

I didn't want to leave, and while part of it has to do with what I've mentioned -- how much I loved the place -- it has more to do with the people that I fell in love with and gave my heart to.

To build relationships with the teenagers in the homes, and the patients in the drug rehab centres, and then to leave them so quickly -- it's too cruel, and it breaks my heart. I don't know if I can do this short-term missions thing, and I don't want to scare my parents, but the only way I can continue this wonderful thing that God has shown me, is to devote my whole life to it.

It's something that I'm still praying about.

***

Before we left Kazakhstan on Sunday afternoon, we said our goodbyes and gave each other farewell hugs and handshakes. It's the first time I've been in a group where I've been the youngest, and I've been unspeakably blessed, encouraged, and inspired, by the people I've met and worked with on this trip. I had so much on my mind then -- too much to think about -- that I didn't even have time to take in the finality of leaving. I took one last look at the green gate that housed my new home, took a deep breath, and got into the taxi.

It was only after we had crossed the treacherous border, and finally moved into Uzbekistan, with Kazakhstan behind us, that the magnitude of what the last two weeks had done for me finally hit -- and the tears started to flow.

***

I'm home.

I'm home, but why does it feel like I've left Home behind?