Hi everyone, Caroline here reporting to you, for the first time, in Lesotho! I cannot believe that Alex and I are already in month 6 of this Race! I wish I could correctly explain to you how strangely time works on the race; the days are long and the months are short, and time seems to be both never ending and going by too quickly all at the same time. It’s a very strange phenomenon.
Anyway, I didn’t come here to tell you about the time. I came to tell you about how much I miss home, and why I really need to stop.
These past two months for me have been an overwhelming whirlwind of emotions. There have been good days, bad days, happy days, sad days, and some days that were all of the above and more at once! More prevalent than all the other emotions though was this unyielding longing for home. It was this homesickness deeper and more pressing then anything I had ever experienced before. The Race had lost all of it’s joy, and I forgot why I ever wanted to go on this crazy trip in the first place. Every time I had to pack my bags and move I cried because I knew that I wasn’t moving closer to home, but further away, and I resented it. I had lost every part of me that remembered why I ever wanted to leave my home, my family, my friends to go on this crazy journey.
For me, the race no longer carried anything I wanted, and all of my desires were for home. I didn’t know why I was missing it so much; for the first several months on the race even though I missed home I knew I was where God had sent me. Why did I suddenly stop believing that was true? And there is one simple explanation; fear.
At the beginning of month four (Panama) I started receiving emails, or seeing Facebook posts, about all of these amazing things going on at home. People were getting new jobs, moving churches, dating, getting engaged, having babies…all of these amazing things, and I was missing all of it. Before I even realized it selfishness and fear started ruling my mind. At the time I couldn’t even pinpoint why, but my desire to be home grew into this monster that consumed my every thought. Not because I was sad or jealous of missing these amazing milestones in my loved one’s lives, but because I began to think that when I returned home I would have no place in their lives any more.
That one thought was the root of all my problems…my burning desire to be home stemmed from the thought that if I missed anything else people would move on, forget about me, and my once prevalent place in their lives would no longer exist. Somewhere in my brain I concluded that if I stayed on the field I wouldn’t have a home to return to.
Which, of course, is nothing but a bold faced lie from the enemy himself. It’s taken me two months, but I finally remember the truth of the matter; I am greatly loved. Not just by God, but by my people back home, and when I return home, whenever God tells me that will be, there will be a place for me there. Because I AM LOVED and I am not forgotten. I know that when I return home I will have to catch up on all the news, and there are parts of my friends and families daily lives tat I’m just never going to know. I will have to get to know people all over again and they’ll have to get to know me again. But that doesn’t mean I have lost any space in their hearts, and I know that in November I will be welcomed home with open arms.
I still miss home. I am still having to choose daily to invest in my ministry and my team, and some days are easier then others; some days I find it nearly impossible. But knowing that I will have a place when I get home makes it easier to choose to stay present. It’s a daily battle, but it’s worth it.
