My Journey of Reconciliation

I should know much of what there is to know about America. I should have a grasp of this bizarre and fascinating culture—and I should be comfortable with it—yes? After all, I am an American Studies major. And, an American too.

Confession. I'm clueless.

I couldn't help but let the tears fall today as I drove home from the Gathering Place in Denver on I-25.

When did all of this stop making sense?

In Ghana, I journaled so much about finally knowing America now that I was on the outside looking in. I preached it. I felt like I could grasp this thing we call America now that I saw things from a new perspective.

So, imagine coming home—to the U.S.A.—and feeling a little bit like a stranger at times.

The idea of my home—my room and PRIVATE space where I can be isolated at any time—I don't get it.

Wal-mart is another monster. I sure as hell can't figure it out. Why are there like, 940925435 kinds of butter to choose from?

The food. The relationships. The culture of poverty.

Quite simply, I'm confused. Sad. Detached. Uncertain. To name a few.

I try and express this and people just look at me blankly. Don't get me wrong, and I am going to stress this: I DO love America. So very much. I am grateful to be an American. This country is beautiful. That cannot be overstated.

It's just reconciling two different worlds is nearly impossible.

To be fair, even after living in Ghana, I of course didn't figure out the ins and outs of Ghana perfectly either. Who am I, an American, coming into a new place and feeling like I can walk away with my own assumptions and knowledge about a place that I only knew for over 4 months? Sometimes, it seems so long. Sometimes, not at all. Still, I did learn. I learnt a lot about another way of life. I experienced another way of life. I LIVED another way of life, at times.

Once again, I find myself unable to fit.

I suppose maybe it's not all about fitting? Maybe, that is just another lesson in this vast, indescribable, incredible experience? Maybe fitting isn't the point.

Still, that is another topic altogether, and somehow I am going to have to find a way to live, not merely exist in this great country because this is my life now.

How do I carry everything I experienced in Ghana and live my life in America? How do you find reconciliation?

The answer, I imagine, is hidden far and wide in a deep place in this life. Somewhere between my heart, my experiences, my future, my relationships, and my spirituality. The answer just might be the rest of my life. I am forever changed. The adjusting might be the hardest part. Especially NOW. Over a month at home, and yes, it's really starting to sink in.

I'm happy, and believe me, coming from my life, this cannot be feigned. But with the happiness that comes with being in my home, playing with my dogs, hiking mountains, reading books, and relishing all that I love about Denver, comes the challenge of adjusting, rather, RE adjusting.

It's okay to cry, my family told me tonight, as I tried to verbalize what was going through my heart and mind. It's okay to cry. It's okay to feel this way. It's okay. I am normal, they say. And, I believe them. I also believe everything will be okay, and that this part of the journey is just as important as any other moment. Now is the time that I am carrying along the stories, the people, the experiences and processing. I am not alone, and for that I am grateful.

It might be hard, it might be uncomfortable, but it's important that I stay strong and push forward. Lord, please help me. I cannot do this alone.