A quinoa moment.

As I'm sorting through the accumulation of five years of my fairly rural New York life, I'm experiencing an odd sense of weakness, relief, and new strength. I walked to my favourite coffee shop this morning, and on the way was recognized by one of the refugees I had taken on an appointment. It was a gentle reminder of what I'm taking away from this year - I'm leaving Buffalo, but it is Burma I will miss. Seeing the people that only last year I had no idea existed, now walking past me with waves and smiles, is a balm that staunches any building bitterness towards my old workplace.

It certainly doesn't take a week to pack a car with stuff, as the American border guard reminded me, but it does take a week (or more) to say goodbye. At least for myself. Even when we moved houses 10 minutes south from the location of my childhood, I needed to mourn the shift in my life. Leaving Buffalo is more than just ending a hard year, it is also moving on from 5 years of friendships, discoveries, questions, college lessons and city lessons. I don't want my exhaustion to turn into cynicism against the huge transformations that my time here has given me. Having this last week has been an unexpected blessing. I did not think that returning to the place that had drained me emotionally, spiritually, and physically would also be the place that offered some healing and new perspective.

There is a video made of my sister's wedding showing some short clips of the details that we had collected - the 'well-wishes & prayers' antique box, the Playmobil characters on the coconut cake, the multitude of mason jars with pretty ribbons. All of these details were like our other guests; they too helped create the atmosphere of simple celebration, beauty, and fellowship.

As I spend this week without any expectations or nagging responsibilities, I can feel my energy slowly returning, infusing my mind with a positive outlook, making my hands look for work and my spirit hunger anew for truth and understanding. As I let go of the guilt so strongly associated with my service in Buffalo, I realize how many details I've missed. I made a batch of quinoa today, and as I rinsed away the bitter coating that encases the tiny grains, I sunk my hands deep into the gritty mess just for the fun of it. Just as the details in Ali's wedding were significant to the atmosphere and the memories, the same is true in my daily life. I hope and pray that as I enter my new living quarters, my new school, my new community, I am able to live out this lesson with humour and grace.

As I lingered over my 'quinoa moment', I felt like I was washing away my old attitude and replacing it with simple joy. Perhaps this is what Christ wants us to experience in an even deeper way - washing away our bitterness, our exhaustion, our sins, to see the details of His grace again.