Where do I begin describing the myriad of thoughts and impressions that followed me home from Africa...?
I'll begin with a few of the indelible pictures in my mind:
the laughter of Archbishop and Mrs. Desmund Tutu....watching him dance on a small stage after dinner at The One and Only Hotel in Cape Town.,,,laughter and joy.
Drinking hot coffee with hot milk almost every morning before the sun came up...watching the sunrise...reconnecting with the One who made it.
Driving through sugar cane fields on a rich red dirt road. then leaving the vehicle and starting the climb up to Damale's house (did I spell that right?) Sitting in her mud hut with a thatched roof (the whole structure smaller than my kitchen) as her welcomed guests.
I cannot begin to say all of the ways that I am changed, expanded, shrunken...
I'm trying to internalize the experience before I try and articulate its impact so that I don't scatter the precious "smoke signals" that my heart is trying so desperately to read.