This past Sunday, I walked into an INITIATIVE Staff meeting and the first thing someone said was “There’s a girl here who wants to do The World Race, you need to talk to her.”
My response was to immediately yell loudly for our entire staff to hear, “Hey, who in here wants to go on the World Race?” To my surprise, not one, but two people instantly raised their hands and said, “Oh, that’s me.” I laughed and said I would talk to both of them soon.
A few minutes later as I was chatting with my new friend, she said that she’d been told I had “just got home.” Kindly I mentioned that it wasn’t the truest statement of the day considering I’ve been back in America for over 16 months, but close enough, right?
So that’s how it tends to go these days, The World Race is an ever growing journey of the past that comes back around ever so often.
My friends have adjusted to my stories of “This one time in Africa,” I don’t have as many emotional flashbacks to the hard realities of what I saw (but they still happen sometimes), and I’m content and even happy in this season of living in America, even if it’s a permanent one.
However, I still smile when on occasion I continue to be introduced with the following: “Hi, This is my friend Beka, and she went on The World Race!”
Normally when that happens whoever I’ve just met to starts to OHH and AHH over me and my experiences and I quickly try to tell them the real truth that hopefully points to Jesus:
I didn’t want to go, I really truly didn’t… I only went because I felt called to go, I kicked and screamed more than half the time, and I only survived because of JESUS. (Let’s be real, ain’t nobody gonna make it through that trip without Him…)
I try my best to communicate that all I did was say yes to where I though God was leading and not fall flat on my face in the process, because the last thing I want someone thinking, whether consciously or subconsciously, is that I’m a “better person” or a “better Christian” because I went.
I’m no better, holier, or higher on God’s favorites list than anyone else because I “gave up everything” (that statement right there deserves its own explanation, but another time) and went around the world with a backpack. And World Racers, whether you are an alum or currently on the field, if you do think you are “better” than anyone else, you should have a little, or maybe BIG, repenting session, because if someone hasn’t slapped you across the face, allow me. You aren’t and living in America is just as hard if not harder than being a missionary.
(Drops the mic and walks away… then comes back a few minutes later)
All that to say, I’m still just as jacked up as I’ve ever been (because we all are), and maybe the biggest difference is that I’m just willing to talk about it now.
It is, however, hard for me to fathom it really has been that long since I tucked my backpack in the corner of my closet and exchanged it for a pencil skirt.
Heck, I even turned 25 last month! What is that mess about?!?
Does that make me a real adult yet?
I sure hope not…
To be continued in Part 2.
