Normalcy... what is that really?

I was in my kitchen last week, cooking fried pickles, onion rings, and red beans and rice with two of my teammates when it hit me, this feels normal. It felt like I was at home in the States, either in Mobile or in Shreveport, hanging out with old friends. We were having the best time; Scott was entertaining us with Russian pop songs and dance moves, and Phil and I were laughing hysterically. It was really fun. I made that comment, just that in that moment it felt like I was at home, and both agreed, it was just normal. Since that day, I have had several moments of things feeling strangely normal. Here are some of my thoughts on the subject:
1. I tried to fight the initial feelings of normalcy. I told myself that there was no way this could be normal, as admitting comfort would somehow betray my life in the States. I told myself there was no way this could feel normal.
2. Then I realized, normalcy for me is not about a place. Its not even about the people. Its about being where I know that I am supposed to be, about being in the place that God has designed for me. So many people think that life can only be normal in one place, or with certain people or things surrounding them, but that is just not the truth.
3. I guess normal is what you make it. I have wanted this dirty, small, broken apartment to be my home. I didnt want it to merely be a place where I slept; instead, I wanted it to be a place where people would come, a place where locals felt at home. I worked really hard, not at making the walls less cracked, or the plumbing work better, but at making it warm and inviting. I have learned valuable lessons about hospitality, and appearances, and about how the pretty places arent necessarily the inviting ones.
4. All is normal, yet nothing is normal. Every night, when I lay down to sleep, I spend about 5-10 minutes listening to the sounds around me. I hear people yelling, singing; I hear people walking up stairs, smoking cigarettes on the front step, doing remodeling work on their apartments. This has become so normal to me; but in the same breath, it is the opposite of the normal that I am used to. I would love one night of absolute quiet; but here it is just not going to happen.

Bottom line, there are so many random, not normal things that are part of every day. Things that make me laugh, furrow my brow, sometimes cry, or just stand in utter amazement that places in the world still operate in this manner. Its not always my first instinct, but I am choosing to make those things my new normal. Sure, it will never be the way that I like it, or the way that I am most comfortable with, but it is way it is. Thats good enough for me.