Grieving is hard. It is a hard process. Nobody in my life has died [at least that I know of]. But this team change has shaken my heart in a way I was not expecting. Three weeks into a new team, not even being within a 12 hour drive of the girls on my former teams, and you would think that I would be used to it by now. Something happened in my heart at the end of Honduras, something that shifted and made me able to process emotions in a bigger way than I ever have before. But something about me is that I love big, when you love big it also means that the valley of hurt is deep too. That is where I have been for three weeks. I loved my former teams with everything I had to give, I didn't think that we would get split up. After all we had such a good thing going on, we had just changed, we were the powerhouse team. Why would that change? So when my team changed, it wrecked me. I tried to prepare myself. I tried for over a week to prepare myself for the worst case scenario. The worst case scenario was that my team was split up, but everyone else was together with at least one other person from my team, but I was alone without them. Then guess what happened… yep, my team got spilt up and I was alone, two were on one team, two on another team, and one girl was raised up as a squad leader. I was alone. Those last few days in Honduras were really hard. I couldn't stop crying. Eventually I was not as sad, but I couldn't stop crying. When people [former racers, mostly] tell you [or you read in their blogs] before the race that you are going to experience emotions in a totally new way than you ever have before and that non criers will turn into a blubbering machine of emotion it is true. It was a realization for me that I love hard. Imagine that… me, I love hard. But on the flipside of loving hard, I also crash hard when people I love and would choose to spend every day with are kind of just taken out of my life and new people are there in their place within just moments. It hurts. It sucks. I miss those girls so much more than I ever expected. Not only did we end up on separate teams but, the teams that they are on are so far away from where I am that I can't even see them.
I was so jealous for them and for their hearts and for time with them that I couldn't imagine letting them go to other teams.
That was my logic. Some days it is still my logic. But every day I have to remember that we gave up our expectations at training camp. We surrendered who was on our team. We surrendered the fact that we couldn't decide who those people were. We surrendered everything about our teams to the leadership above us. Sometimes that is uncomfortable.
After three weeks of processing this change my heart is still healing from not being around my girls, but it gets better every day. It is a daily choice to surrender my team to the Lord. Daily I have to choose to love them, choose to prefer them over myself, choose to say that they are safe. It gets better every day. But I know that I am still grieving my old team. And that is okay for me to feel. So as part of the grieving process here is a letter to my old team. If you were on it, know this is from my heart. If you are at home reading this, there are just some things that happen on the field that are not explainable unless you are there and we get to walk through those things with each other daily. If you want to read it, do it. If not you don't have to.
Dear the team formerly known as Team Awaken… This one is for you:
Thank you for showing me what stepping out truly means. Thank you for teaching me that you can call someone out in their decision in such a loving way that it doesn't even feel negative. Thank you for sharing your wisdom and your discernment with me and showing me how to not only tap into those things, but to know when to use them and how to use them to the best of the ability that God has given me. Part of this processing has made me realize that we are like veterans. It was like we were off fighting a war. As with veterans, if we were together we would still be sitting in the muck of our battle– the miscommunication and fear, mostly. Yes we would remember our victories, but we would still be seeing them through our foggy eyes of pain. I still remember the victories. It is something unspoken that we have; a bond that ties us tighter than the best knot we could ever tie. You are each so important and crucial to the growth I experienced in the first three months. To my spiritual growth you have spoken so much life into me that some days it was hard to contain my joy; you have taught me to pray in a deeper way; you have said the hard things and told me to suck it up and listen, and it was always good; you encouraged me when I began to dig deeper into the word of God, even when 2 Chronicles wasn't blowing your mind as much as it was blowing mine; and you loved me in a way that makes me tear up just thinking about. As much as I love you girls; as much as I didn't [and if I am honest still don't] like this change, because no one can take your spots in my heart; as much as you were home to me, sometimes you have to leave home to know what else is out there. This change was necessary and eventually will be good even if I can't see it now. I am still a little shell shocked and it is hard for me to remember the growth that happened, but the first three months of the race were beautiful and hard. I wouldn't trade them for anything. To Kelly, Suzy, Brittany, Naomi, and Robin, thank you for teaching me so much more than I could have asked or hoped for. Don't stop reaching and teaching and loving and caring. People have so much to learn from you and I was blessed to glean from the beautiful women you are. Thank you for helping to prepare my heart for this season of really pushing and seeking what God's purpose in this is. We were together for the perfect chapter, for the perfect time. I love you all and no one will ever fill your spaces in my heart. Changes are good, grieving is hard. I can't wait to see the way you grow in this new chapter. We will always be the prowling lionesses, seeing trouble on the horizon, and taking it out before it has even the slightest opportunity to get near our family.
Much love,
-MandaBear
