My feet touched American soil almost one month ago. I’ve been postponing writing a detailed blog for many reasons, the main one being that I have no clue what to say. I’ve been greeted with warm smiles and hugs, all followed by questions.
“How was your trip?”
“What was your favorite country?”
“What was the hardest part?”
“Did you eat strange foods?”
“Would you do it again?”
And then there’s, “Are you happy to be home?”
I’m still trying to figure out how to answer that question. I was so happy to see my family and friends. I’m happy to eat at the restaurants that I craved so horribly while eating the never-ending bowls of pork and rice. I’m happy to have the luxuries of air-conditioning, free refills, and my own bed. And yet, there’s something missing.
I miss my Race family. I miss the sense of adventure. I miss the freedom of being surrounded by people that “got” me. I miss the affirmation that I was making a difference in the world. Here I am, feeling eerily “normal” again.
My feeling can best be summed up in the words of Frodo Baggins in the conclusion of Lord of the Rings: Return of the King. After everything Frodo experienced on his quest, he knew life would never be the same…
How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back?
I can’t help but feel like a stranger in a foreign land. Everything is familiar. It feels like home, but I still feel out of place. It seems like the last year was just a dream. I wake up some mornings and question whether or not it even took place. Things are starting to feel normal again, which scares me.
I no longer turn frantically when I hear people speaking English. I’ve re-taught myself to throw toilet paper in the actual toilet rather than the trash can. And I haven’t pulled out into the wrong lane of traffic. Even though some things are fading, I still find that my thought patterns are in sync with the Race.
The first few days home, I began each morning by asking my mom what we would be doing that day. She told me not to worry about it, to just relax. But I just had to know! Where’s the schedule, the structure, the stability?
There was a heavy rain last week, causing a large stream of water to flow from the roof. My first thought was about how the stream would make a perfect shower.
I’ve spent the last 2.5 weeks at Camp Sumatanga. It’s great for the transition. It’s in America, but it still doesn’t count as real life. It took me forever to pack my clothes to come. I actually had more than 5 shirts to choose from. I sat in my floor, sulking because I didn’t know what to do. This is the third week I’ve been here, and I’ve kept the same clothes I brought the first, even though I’ve been home and had the chance to swap. This just feels more normal.
Re-entry was brutal the first few days. I had so many questions and uncertainties. I still have plenty, but God’s opening doors. I can’t wait to share those with you over the next few months. He was faithful this year, and he’s continuing to be faithful beyond my wildest dreams. One journey has come to an end, but my life is just beginning. I haven’t gotten anything out of my system. This is the start of a new adventure…an adventure that the World Race has equipped me for.
Let the new race begin.
