It’s April 29, 2016, approximately 2:00 in the afternoon. I’m drenched in sweat and I’m carrying my probably 60 pound bag to my hotel. That’s right, I said hotel. It’s PVT and I get to stay in a hotel, which is arguably as exciting as seeing my parents. Kidding! But throw in AC and you’re almost there. I jest, but at this point I’m truly missing my parents.
The day I left my parents gave me a small alabaster heart they had recently purchased in Italy.
I remember the days when homesickness really set in and I cried myself to sleep holding that small alabaster heart. When a storm in Lesotho washed it away, I was devastated. I’m not typically sentimental, but that heart meant so much to me. In nothing short of a miracle, I found it later embedded in the dirt outside my tent and was ecstatic.
Back to April 29th. It’s been 236 days since I said a tearful goodbye to my parents at launch. I’m walking into the hotel lobby and I see them. I throw that massive bag down on the ground and run into their arms. In that moment nothing else matters. The fact that my bag is in the way, or that it possibly hit someone on the way down. Nope. I don’t even care. All the late night / early morning Skype calls, tons of ‘I miss you’ messages, and the long distance have led up to this moment. The sweat mixes with tears. My first thoughts, ‘Never again.’ God willing, I will never go that long without seeing them again.
Going into PVT, I was so excited to see them, yet nervous about the changes in me. I’ve never once doubted that my parents loved me, but could they accept this new me? I’ve changed a lot in the past 9 months, have they? What if they’re intimidated by this new person in front of them? It turns out my fears were unfounded, because my parents have grown in the time that I’ve been gone. I could see that through my conversations with them throughout the week.
I so enjoyed getting to do ministry alongside my parents. Though it was a very scaled down and pampered image of the race, I’m glad they were able to experience it. Their willingness to work and their desire to experience what I’ve been experiencing meant a lot to me. They truly put themselves in my shoes.
To my Daddy, I’ll never forget going to a bar with you in Chiang Mai, Thailand and buying a girl a drink and playing Jenga with her. Momma, I’ll never forget your generosity and determination to find some nail polish for the young girls in the slums and the joy and your face when coloring with those same girls. Your collective openness and willingness to do whatever task that was asked of you has somehow made me love you and respect you even more, which I didn’t even think was possible. You left your comfort zones behind in America, and for that I’m thankful. I love you guys all the way to the moon and back, and I’ll see you in a couple weeks.
