Transplant

Transplant: move or transfer (something) to another place or situation, typically with some effort or upheaval.

Looking down the hill toward my part of town.

I'm a transplant. Uprooted from my home soil, still carrying some dirt with me, but planted into a new place to grow and be an agent of change.

In my new soil, I have new friends, new habits, and new priorities.

But I'm still the same person. A carrot is a carrot whether planted in a garden, greenhouse, or growing wild.

So in a lot of ways, I have to learn how to thrive in a new environment, but as the same person I've always been: quirky humor, commitment to the Father, need for relationship, and all.

I still struggle with laziness. Now that comes out in the way I handle language. At first I was gung ho: let's do this! I love language! It's such a fun challenge!  Now I'm hitting a hard part: as I get into more difficult parts of the language, it's harder to see progress. I have to figure out new ways to push myself, knowing that my end goal is to communicate truth on a deeper level. Just knowing how to say "good morning, how are you, and, I'd like 3 ginger beers" isn't enough.

I still struggle with time management. It's easy to get going on one project and ignore everything else. Especially as a single person, if I decide to have madelenas (a spice muffin) and ginger beer for dinner every night of the week, I can. But if I'm doing that because I spent too much time on curriculum reading or took too long of an afternoon nap, well, it's not a healthy lifestyle. It takes discipline to do household tasks on a consistent basis.

I still enjoy new things: hiking a new place, trying a new food (mystery plant, anyone?), learning a new phrase, going down a new path, it's still fun.

So as a transplant into this island culture, I'm learning to thrive. It takes effort, it's an upheaval, but by keeping my eyes fixed on the Father and my nose pointed forward, I'm growing.

Indzia the kitten, transplanted into our home, thrives by chewing on feet.