I wake up sometimes…look around…and get confused.
It felt like just moments ago that the captain turned off the “fasten seatbelt” sign…and that my shaky fingers unclasped the buckle around my waist. It felt like just moments ago that I reached over my head for my backpack and for the last time, threw it around my shoulders and swung my Kavu bag over my head. It felt like moments ago that I eagerly bit my lip and waited as everyone in front of me on the plane took their time getting off of it. It felt like just moments ago that I thanked the flight attendants, tears beginning to fill my eyes as I stepped off of my last plane of my world race journey. It felt like just moments ago that I bent down to make sure my bag was packed alright…that I looked okay despite the makeup running down my cheeks. It felt like moments ago when my stomach writhed in pain with the amount of butterflies that took flight the closer I got to the people waiting for me outside of security. It felt like moments ago that I saw over a mans shoulder in front of me, my loved ones. Standing in a line. My moms hands covering her mouth, eyes furrowed, tears flowing freely. My dads arms crossed, a grin creeping across his face. My sister Sam, smiling and waving, arm in arm with her boyfriend. My other sister Melanie, looking at least 3 years older, smiling despite the tears that brimmed her eyes. My little brother Ethan, who was at least a foot taller, beaming. It felt like just moments ago that I saw my beaming boyfriend Jacob, I could see the gleam in his eyes from where I was. It felt like just moments ago that my legs failed me…and that I fell to my knees on the floor in front of them. My hands covered my mouth in sobs as I realized that I was home.
I wasn’t in a different country about to pour what little I have left, out again, only to move a month later.
It felt like just moments ago that I was home. Really home.
As I sat up and looked around me…the warm daylight that poured into the windows on that Sunday afternoon, were gone…instead, it was dark…only a single bulb light was lit outside…and I was cold. I looked in front of me where my family was in my dream…and all there was was the far wall of my tent. I had no backpack on…and my kavu bag sat next to me…untouched.
One thing remained the same…I ran my fingers through my hair as the tears continued to slowly fall down my cheeks. I curled up in a ball on my sleeping pad, realizing that I was in Malawi, not Grand Rapids, Michigan.
At the beginning of the race I wondered how month 11 racers could be SO tired…that we were traveling and meeting new people! What would be so hard? If anything I would take full advantage of my time in Month 11. I wouldn’t get burnt out.
Truth.
I’m burnt out.
I’m one of those Month 11 racers.
My subconscious keeps giving me these dreams of being in the arms of the people I love…and I keep waking up to an empty tent.
It’s to the point, friends, where God is literally the only reason I am here. It is by HIS strength alone that I don’t say “Bump this, I had a good run, I’m ready to go home.”
He’s brought me to the very VERY end of myself. There is nothing left. If I didn’t have Him, I’d have my plane ticket home by yesterday! But I’m here…searching for contacts in Malawi so that future racers can experience this beautiful country.
Month 11 is no joke. It’s hard. It’s so hard. It’s tiring. But how beautiful is it that God literally gives me exactly what I need everyday…and refills my cup just enough to keep me coming back to Him on a daily basis?
I know that I will soon be home. That in 29 days I will step off the plane in Grand Rapids, Michigan and be in the arms of my loved ones. I know too that God has me here, in Malawi, at the end of myself, for a reason. And that if I stick this out…and honor the time He’s given to me…that He will be there to help me up everyday. That he will grab my hands and hoist me out of my tent every morning, give me a slap on the back, and say : “Lets do this.”
And so we go.
