As Ruth Said to Naomi…

My heart finds the greatest pleasure in returning to the remote villages of the Solomon Islands. As I drive up the road to Verakabikabi my heart swells as I think of the people I have come to know and love. Within a few moments they will run to greet us as if we were royalty. We will catch up on all that has happened and how their families have grown. They will ask of my family and I will show them the pictures I have saved. They always love looking at those pictures. We always reminisce about our first visit into the village and the ceremonial greeting with the warriors and pipe flutes. They remember that I wept and they instinctively knew that it was a very moving moment for me. They are happy that they were able to share this with me.

Welcoming ceremonies are a sacred ritual in these Islands. Each village presents a traditional ceremony and I have to admit I weep each time we are greeted in this way. This tradition began in the days of cannibalism when a stranger would enter a village. In those days, and with the reenactment, as you entered you would be ambushed by the warriors of the village. You would be held captive and then taken to the chief of the village. Your fate would rest in his hands as he decided whether you lived or died. In this moment I am transported to another place and time as I await the outcome. Eagerly we wait until the Chief steps forward and says these words, “These are my people. Where they go, I go. They are safe here with us”.

I find it difficult to describe how beautiful is the depth of my integration to this place. I know that this is a special gift to me. I have alluded in the past to the many places that capture my heart but this is one of my favorites. It is hot, humid, hard, and nothing is comfortable or easy here. Yet, I would chose this place every time because these are my people. Where they are I am also. I am safe here.

I have found healing and a mending of my soul here as well. I have guarded my heart too much lately as if that would protect me from pain. There are moments I have felt as if there is nothing left of me to give and in this place I have allowed Him to pour His rain over me and I am able to bathe myself in who He is. I am able to forget who I am or who I was or even who I was hoping to be. I only know that in these moments I am His and that is enough.

It is always enough…