Three months down, three to go.

Dear Aunt Alice,

I can't believe that I'm already to the halfway point of my time here in Zambia. In some ways, I feel as though I've always been here, that my life in the States didn't really exist, but in others, I feel as though I just got here, though I must confess that the last couple of weeks have brought the hardest wave of homesickness that I've ever felt in my life.

Last Saturday, the day before Easter, I missed my family's annual Easter feast and board games gathering, but God provided a gathering here with a meal nearly identical to what my family traditionally has and a rousing game of "Upwords," so I made it through okay.

Today has been a struggle as well. Three years ago today, my grandfather (your nephew) died. I feel as though I should be used to his passing or that the hurt should somehow be gone, but it isn't. I still miss him deeply. I miss being his favorite (albeit the only) granddaughter, watching him in his workshop, hearing his stories and just being with him. Being here, I can't help but wish I could tell him about this place, about the ways that God used your ministry here, etc.

I'm thankful for the friends I've made here and I know that saying goodbyes will be hard. I'm not ready to go home, but I do miss it. There's more to do, more to see and more to learn.