People
ask what it’s like to be home, and the reality is that sometimes it’s hard to
remember, really, what it was like to be gone.
It is an ocean of memories with an undertow of emotional attachments
that cannot be reigned. It often seems
like another world, another time, even another life.
Physically, my heart currently
resides at my home in Zionsville, Indiana.
I have been home for two months.
It seems like a lot longer.
Probably because the last few weeks have been filled with some of the
longest days I’ve ever experienced.
Beinghome has been great –
holidays. I’ve had time to relax with
family and friends, to share stories about the past year, to go to Colts games
– to just be with the people I love.
After 11 months of being away, this restful homecoming has been the
greatest gift I could have asked for. But
eventually the calendar turns over, 2010 became 2011. Life continues to move, and we must move with
it – whether we’re ready to or not.
where the long days and sleepless nights come in. Over the past few weeks my life has been
incredibly, nearly overwhelmingly, consumed by two words: “What’s next?”
I
thought I knew. As my time on the World
Race was coming to an end, despite all my best efforts to wait until I got home
to figure things out, I had already conjured up the perfect plan for myself and
the next phase of my life. I would be
home for a couple months, get a job, make some money, then head off to a
leadership school in Spain where I would find all the answers to life’s
difficult questions. Well, as I arrived
home and began assimilating back into “normal” life, I realized quickly that
this is not where God was leading me. It
simply wasn’t in the cards – at least not right now. So what was next? I found myself in an eerily familiar
situation to the one that 18 months prior had led me to the World Race –
jobless, living at home, grasping for a semblance of direction or instruction as to how to
step into the next phase of life.
began asking questions. I began
searching for answers. Honestly, I began
trying – trying as best as I could to “figure things out.” I was asking everyone who would listen what
they thought I should do. I was trying
so hard to figure out what I was “supposed to do,” searching for the “right
answer,” that I never asked God what he thought – what his plan was for
me. I asked everyone except the one
person who could give me the answer. But
I was too busy – I needed answers yesterday, I didn’t have time to wait for
God. Surely he wanted me to work hard to
figure things out for myself. I had
grown so much over the past year, I should be able to make a simple decision
for myself, right?
God had other plans. I couldn’t handle
it anymore, the stress was too much, and one day I finally just gave it
up. One afternoon almost two weeks ago,
I stopped sending out resumes and surfing job sites, closed my computer, got in
my car and just drove.
talked to God about it all. About life,
and about his plans for me. About where
he wants me, both physically and spiritually, and how he wants to use me in
this next season of my life. Sometimes I
sang, sometimes I listened, sometimes I just looked out the window.
Before I knew it
I was driving through a pretty rough neighborhood on the east side of
Indianapolis. By now it shouldn’t
surprise me that that’s exactly where I would find God. As I drove past homes I thought about how the
broken elements on the exterior were nothing compared to the damage probably
taking place behind any given door. I
thought about the people growing up here – a life I could never really
know. As I continued to navigate through
the streets of this neighborhood I found myself more and more overcome with
emotion – everything from anger to sadness, confusion, humility, and
shame. I no longer felt disconnected
from the experiences and people of the past year. What God called me to – a life of
discipleship, ministry, and love did not end when I got home, it grew.
And then God spoke.
And in a couple days, I’ll
tell you what he said.
