reconciling with board games

Hello strangers,

I know it's been a while since I last posted something. At this point, it's getting difficult to write about isolated experiences and single striking thoughts; all the elements of our travels are beginning to fuse together, and the ideas and opinions from my brain and the many fine brains we have picked over the last four weeks have been diffused into an emotional foundation that is hard to describe.
Nevertheless, I feel that I should attempt to share some of the ideas that have been funneling down into my heart.

It was only a few days ago that I started to think about this trip within the context of my September awakening that compelled me to embark on this five-week adventure. I now find it strange that I was able to go three and a half weeks without thinking about why God would lead me here. I pretty much always think about the 'why'. But I only started to think about it when I realized that I could do more here than visit and try to learn.
I know it's pretty common to fall in love with a travel destination. I know that everyone at some point gets tempted to say, "Screw it, I'm moving to Cleveland". People start to wonder if they can make their vacation into a life. I've done that before. I'm still doing that with Britain. But the thing with the Middle East is that I didn't really want to come here. I was more than willing to, but it wasn't my idea. This idea of this trip wasn't born out of a personal dream or a long-standing longing. It basically came out of nowhere. And because of that, I am starting to think that the things I am feeling for this land and these people have practical significance for my life and my future. I feel different here. I feel like I am free to care about the people around me and the issues that permeate their lives. I feel less self-obsessed (but apparently not enough to quit blogging, the ultimate self indulgence). I feel like I can focus on the gifts within my person that have nothing to do with talent. I feel like I can actually see the search for God on the streets here. I feel like I don't have to deal with the questions that are ubiquitous in North American Christianity, the questions that nauseate me and keep me from wanting to practice my faith and associate myself with the people in my religion.
I don't think it's a stretch to say that I'm feeling called to live in this part of the world, maybe not permanently, but at least for a little while. I hesitate to say that definitively because I know it's easy to fall in love with places that you visit and throw meaning onto that temporary love. But God called me to go on this trip, of that I am certain, and I am also certain that God doesn't interfere with people's lives and point them in a new direction for no reason. This is why I have been looking into intensive Arabic language programs in Morocco and the Middle East and graduate programs in Jerusalem. The way I've come to see it, if God will bless me with a decently long life, I will fill it with as much learning about as many and various subjects as I can. I will try to understand this world and its joys and sorrows in order to find my place in it.
A couple months ago a friend of mine spoke into my life in a most unexpected way. She shared what she felt God was telling her to say, and it bowled me over. This prophetic word acknowledged the frantic-ness within me. I sometimes feel like a have a city inside me, with so many streets leading in so many directions that I can't choose which to take. I feel like I am many people sometimes. But God acknowledged this in me, and basically said that I could look at each and every person within my personality and choose to embrace her. I don't have to feel limited, or bound by the necessity of choice. I have always felt this way, so I suppose it is who I am; perhaps I am a twelve-sided die, and Middle East Hannah is but one side of many.