Ten years ago, almost to the day, I said goodbye to the city I love.
I had spent the summer in Rwanda, working alongside a church there to send their children to private school. As my time drew to a close I started to wonder where I would go next.
I wanted to return to Washington, DC, where I had spent the last three years. It is a city that echos my heartbeat. I love the morning mist over the Potomac, the history, the variety of cultures, and a thousand things that never get shown in movies and TV shows because until you live there you simply don’t understand. I left DC to move to Rwanda and presumed I’d go back after.
God had other plans.
I didn’t know much in Rwanda, but I knew DC was a closed door. I begged, pleaded, schemed, ignored. Then a friend reminded me that sometimes we have to lie down what we want so God can give us something greater. I knew at that point I’d be going home – even if just for the holidays.
The holidays turned into a job, meeting my husband, and five years later moving to Hawaii. We now have our next assignment… We are going back to DC! 4,800 miles away from where we are now. We have put in our notices, are arranging for the movers, getting our car ready to go.
I am excited, nervous, exhausted, ready. I never thought I’d be back there again. The opportunity came in a flurry of other things, so I never really gave it the consideration of “could this happen?” It wasn’t until my husband got the interview I dared even open the door a crack to say, “maybe.”
It’s hard to understand the love of a place if you’ve never experienced that feeling. It’s hard to describe the beauty of a place painted as grungy, corrupt, filled only with scandal and greed. But that’s not District I love. The one I called home. The one I get to return to.
I am not sure how it will work to tear down our lives in six weeks, stop at home for our first family holiday in years, and then land with nothing but our dog, four suitcases, and a hotel for two weeks.
Here’s to the journey.