Dear Home,
Over the course of this year there have been days that I’ve thought of you lots, and other days not at all. There have been moments of longing and moments of dread, moments of excitement, and moments of fear. When I said goodbye to you, 11 months sounded like a life time. But now, knowing I’ll be greeted by you in just a few short days, I can’t begin to explain how quickly this year flashed by for me. No, that doesn’t mean it’s been easy, actually, this year has probably been the hardest of my life. Even with all the heartache, the mess, the exhaustion, and the trials, it just feels like I blinked. And now this crazy whirlwind of a year is coming to a close.
Before I seen you again, there’s a few things I need you to know.
I love you.
More than I ever even realized before. I’m so thankful for the perspective that time away from you has given me. I’ve learned from missing you, how desperately irreplaceable you are. I’m sorry that it took me leaving to fully understand that. Thank you for standing by my side, supporting me, praying for me, and loving me across oceans. Thank you for letters and pictures and bible verses that I’ve carried with me. It’s you, the ones that I left behind, that have been my rocks this year. It hasn’t only been my journey; you’ve been a part of it too.
I’m coming back to you again soon. I’m ready to feel the warmth that only you can bring, but I need you to know that although I’m coming home, it’s different now. To you, I’m coming back to the place I belong. To me, I’m coming back to a place I belong. This year I’ve left pieces of my heart everywhere, and not all of me is coming home. Luke 12:34 says, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” I have treasured so much of the world this year; my heart is still in those places. Part of my heart will always belong in a little purple house in Nepal. Part of my heart will always belong in a tiny fishing village in Cambodia. Part of my heart will always belong with a little girl in a plaid dress in Swaziland. Part of my heart will always belong in Casa Esperaza in La Pintana, Chile. Part of my heart will forever be with a little baby boy in Peru. My heart is scattered across this world, and I need you to know that’s scary for me.
“You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart will be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place.”
– Miriam Adeney
I’m going to need space to grieve. I’m coming home to you, but I just had to said goodbye to my crazy dysfunctional family of 54, I just said goodbye to my team, my people. I haven’t been apart from these people once this entire year, it’s like they’re a part of who I am now. They’ve meant more to me than I could have ever anticipated. They have become my church and together we learned what it looks like to fight for each other. They are the ones who walked me through things this year that you couldn’t. They have helped me carry memories that were too hard for me to tell you about.
I’m going to need to start telling you these stories. I’m going to need to keep these memories alive. I’m going to need your help.
Please ask me questions, but don’t ask them unless you really want to hear the answers. Please please don’t ask me how my “trip” was. This wasn’t a trip; this was my life. Unless you’re prepared for me to flip that same question back on you, and ask you how your whole year was, ask me something else. It will mean the world to me if you ask me specific questions, but give me the grace to go on a complete tangent. I want to share the people and the places that have stolen my heart with you.
In the same way you want to know about my year, I want to know about yours. I want to hear stories, even if they are simple and silly. I want to know. I’m going to feel distant. I may be at home, but I don’t know what’s changed since I’ve been gone. I don’t know about the new grocery store that opened down the street, or if they the closed that small coffee shop I loved. I don’t know if you made new friends or had a weird professor or a coworker with a funny accent this year. I don’t know what videos have gone viral or if dresses were blue or black or whatever. Tell me things. But also, know that it’s going to overwhelm me at times. Give me space when that happens. Help me get my bearings again. At the same time understand that I’ve gotten really good at adjusting. I’ve gone from culture to culture every month this year, and coming back to The States is no different, except now I have you.
As I’m adjusting, sometimes I’m going to need to cry. Probably at surprising or confusing times for you, and for reasons you don’t understand. I need you to know that in the past 11 months my normal has changed, and trying to fit back into my old life isn’t going to be easy or really even totally possible. It’s going to take time. My normal has become a wardrobe of about five shirts. My normal has become markets rather than grocery stores. My normal has become slow internet and patient attempts at communication. My normal has become a constant game of charades and broken English. And as crazy as this may seem to you, I’ve grown very attached to my new normal, and it’s going to be hard for me to let it go. I love the safety and comfort I feel when I’m zipped into my own little world in my sleeping bag. I love not being constantly bombarded with an overwhelming amount of choices when it comes to food and clothes; it makes life simple. I’ve grown attached to simple. I love how I can be in a crowd or a café full of people, but it’s still strangely quiet in my mind because I can’t understand a word anyone is saying.
There will be days that I will need to escape and process. Encourage me to do this. There will be days that I hate being home. Encourage me to bring those frustrations to the Lord. There will be times that I say something in a random language, or throw toilet paper in the trash can, or eat with my hands, or play with someone’s kid in a parking lot and get strange looks. Give me grace.
While I’m transitioning, I might get too overwhelmed by grocery stores (or heaven forbid Target) and have to leave. I might want to sleep on the floor in the comforts of my old faithful sleeping bag, or I might want you to sleep in bed with me. I might say “Oh this reminds of of that time in ____,” over and over again and just want to sit and just tell you stories about them. I might want to simply drive and listen to music and not talk. I might want to get Taco Bell at midnight or I might want to spontaneously go on an adventure because this year I have fallen in love with spontaneity. I have fallen in love with following the curious heart that beats wildly in my chest at the thought of adventure. I want to show you this new part of me.
I want to see you. I want to spend time with you, but please don’t assume I’ll just show up at your door. Ask me to get dinner. Ask me to come over, watch a movie, and snuggle. Ask me to go on a walk, or run errands. Ask me to be a part of your world. I need help figuring out what our relationship looks like again, and I feel like I’ve missed so much. And I’ve missed YOU so much. At the same time, understand if it’s too much for me that day. Understand if maybe all I want is to be with my mom, or have tea with my grandma, or sit in my dad’s office while he works, or even just escape and be alone.
And for the record, no, I don’t know exactly what I’m doing when I get home. After a year of living on mission, my plan is to continue living on mission. I’m not sure what that looks like yet, but I’m okay with that. I’m asking you to respect it. More than just respecting it, it would mean the world to me if you encouraged and supported me in this. Because honestly, it is scary for me. But, if I’ve learned anything this year, it’s that life is so much more than a degree, or a career, or a white picket fence. I’ve learned that I am doing the world a disservice if I’m not following my passions and the callings that the Lord placed on my heart.
“There is an element of God that has been set aside for you to reveal to the world around us. If you don’t uncover that reality, if we don’t see that person, there is a part of God that goes unrevealed to the world.”- Cody Brannan
The reality is, this year has completely shattered my American Christian worldview. Praise the Lord for that. I have seen things that have broken my heart and changed me forever, things I’ll never be able to unsee. I am no longer blissfully unaware of the world, and I will never be again. I cannot step perfectly back into the life I was living before I left, and I don’t want to. I want my future to be colored with the beauty that can only come from living whimsically with the Lord. I will not pursue the “American Dream.” I will not pursue Western success. My choice to live counter culturally will be hard for some people, even the most well-intended people who care about me. I’m asking you to trust me as I trust the Lord with my next step. Just as you’ve been supporting me and covering me with your prayers this year, please continue to come alongside me in this way. That is the best way you can love me while I transition.
“And the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” – 2 Timothy 4:6-7
I cannot wait to see you again.
Soon,
B
