For the third time in 6 months, I'm living alone.
When I first came to Kenya, the main short-termer apartment was full, so I moved in next door. No one lived there. A couple months later, I was asked to move into a smaller apartment because the older couple that had moved in needed more room for their work. Then, a few weeks ago, one of the girls went home so I moved into the main apartment. But another girl went home a week later and now, my final remaining roommate had to move out of town for her ministry. So here I am, alone.
"Don't feel sorry for yourself," Nathan, my adopted little brother, said. "You live on a compound with lots of people. If you feel alone, it's your own fault."
Nevertheless, I've learned through these experiences that I really don't enjoy living alone. I need contact with people; I need company or I die. That's why I can't imagine living in the bush. I need people to relate to, people that I can communicate with. Caleb likes his wide open spaces- areas where there's no people for miles around. I like those places too- for a time. But then I need to get back to civilization. God made us communal beings. And for that, we need to be together.
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