Foreign

Yesterday I received a phone call at the office from the counselor I worked with when supervising a residential treatment program for sexually maladaptive adolescents. She needed help remembering an occurrence between two residents we worked with about a year ago and needed to remember how we responded to the situation for an upcoming court date. With all my new co-workers nearby, in my new office for my new job, and my seemingly new life, I couldn't bring myself to slip into that old vernacular. And so I just laughed. A lot. My old co-worker, seeking my help, apologized for calling me and mentioned that I had probably "blocked all this stuff out." I assured her that this wasn't the case (not really possible), but that it just felt so foreign for me to speak about such things. Which seems strange. Just three months ago I spent at least 40 hours a week talking about nothing but those things. And now I spend a majority of my week talking about sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ with the world through our missionaries and their supporters. Its funny how easily things begin feeling familiar, and just as easily begin feeling foreign.