Shutter Sisters

Stories from Rwanda: Love Waiting at the End of A Dirt Road

By

live%20the%20questions%20africa.jpg 

“How long do you think it will take before I start to feel better?”  I ask my neighbor Nick as he makes dinner for my little urban family.  I am supposed to be helping, but all I can do is walk circles through the house, thinking of my recent trip to Rwanda and all the stories still swirling in my head.

“I think it will take awhile,” he says gently, not wanting to disappoint me, but wanting to tell me the truth.  As my soul brother he knows my heart is wrecked as much from the happiness of being there as the sorrow of coming home.  I wander between our houses trying to remember what I used to do before experiencing so much love in that tiny village, in that sweet family–the home of my dearest friend Odette.  I wonder why I am here and not there.  I wonder if there is any place on earth as sacred or as real.  I sift through a thousand pictures, each one drawing me close into its memory, each one keeping me safe while my soul tries to make sense of this experience.

Who could have guessed so much joy, so much love lies waiting at the end of a dirt road?

I would like to beg you, as well as I can, to have patience, Rilke said, with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language.  Don’t search for answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them.  And the point is to live everything.  Live the questions now.  Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

I hope you will find the courage today to live your truest questions and that one image will be your touchstone as you give yourself over to everything unresolved in your heart.   I am telling stories of love, resilience, acceptance and hope from Rwanda everyday on my blog.  Feel free to leave your links to the images that inspire you to take a risk in the comments below.   Or better yet, why not your favorite image of a long and winding road?

Comments

  1. Jen, you have been doing such amazing work for the girls in Umutara. Even though you are not physically there, I’m sure your work will continue to grow as you have already planted the seeds.

    I don’t think I have experienced anything as life altering as you have, but thinking back, I think going to Korea as a missionary/teacher was my turning point. My experiences there have shaped me into who I am today and had I not taken that ‘risk’ of going, I know I would be a different person than I am now.

    http://www.dolcepics.com/dailypic/looking-forward/

    Thank you for sharing your words and questions from the heart.

  2. Jen, you will always carry this feeling around in your heart, but it will get more bearable. When I returned from my year in Japan, during which time I spent 3 weeks in India and 10 days in the Philippines, readjusting to American life wasn’t easy. My heart was swollen. No one around me cared or understood what I had just been through. Now, ten years later, I still feel that way. Although I have easily forgotten where I was a few years ago, not a day goes by when I don’t think of my sojourn and the people I met. Their faces are emblazoned on my mind’s eye, and sometimes I want to leave everything and return to some of these places.

    http://www.mamaofletters.com/Mama_of_Letters/Camera_Happy/Pages/Sony_Point_n_Shoot.html#46

  4. I can’t say I’ve experienced anything quite like what you’ve described. I’ve been following your stories both here and on your own blog..and am in total awe of what you’ve accomplished.

    Be gentle with yourself. Enjoy this phase of re-adjustment. Before you know it it will all be ancient history…and a distant memory.

    You’re doing great work!!!!

  5. wow, what a post. That quote from Rilke (whoever that is) I am going to carry with me. I have so many questions I’m trying to answer and a life I’m trying to "figure out" how to live. Ah, how encouraging, I can live the questions and not simply search and try to figure it all out in my head first.

  6. It will take some time Jen. And it might even be that you never go back to where and who you were before you went to Rwanda. I have never ever been able to go back. What I do when I come home, whether from Afghanistan, Gaza, Cote d’Ivoire or Timor Leste, is to learn how to live as this new and fundamentally altered me in this familiar place.

    Here is a photo that I look at often.

    http://www.flickr.com/photos/fridaworld/857041045/in/set-72157600921564937/

    It reminds me to be brave in all my choices because the young girl and boy in this photo have no choice. They are internally displaced people in Afghanistan and when we are brave enough to let our imagination go to where they are, then we know how we have to live.

  7. i have been carefully reading your posts and i am just blown away. i hope to travel to africa some day (within the next few years) and can only imagine how i will feel when i return home.
    thank you for sharing your story with us jen

  9. A beautiful post and an evocative, memorable photo. Thank you for sharing the Rilke quote — it really spoke to me today.

  12. Jen, thank you so much for your words about Rwanda today. You captured the feelings I had after returning home from Nicargua three years ago. I cried the first time I walked into the grocery store after getting back because it was just overwhelming. Balancing guilt, humility, wanting to act, but being completely frozen was how I felt. The friends I met while I was there have been in my heart (and sometimes my dreams) since then. I am a different person since my trip and more importantly a different mother. But this summer, I get to return!!! Oh joy! What a day that will be.

  13. I have been feeling some of these same things (in miniature, comparatively, I’m sure) in the last 10 months.

    Thank you. Thank you. For the work you have done and are doing. For telling the stories. For drawing the pictures in our minds. For sculpting the idea of a future in the minds of "the girls learning to read under the trees." For sharing Odette and Innocent and Grace and Lillian and Goreth and Umutara with us.

    You are a remarkable spirit, Jen.