It surprised me too. Up until a month ago, the Race had been the best (and, granted, the most stretching) of all the seasons of my life so far. I spent eleven months travelling the world, experiencing things that most people only get to see in a National Geographic magazine.
Instead of worshipping on the top of a hotel in Ho Chi Minh, I start every week worshipping with the entire staff of Adventures. Instead of butching a whole pig, I throw a can of Campbell's tomato soup on the stove for lunch. Instead of performing the "smell test" on my eternally ripped, stained and unwashed clothes, I wear dresses, boots and pearls.
Hot water is unlimited. The twisty back roads of north Georgia are some of my closest friends. My bed has flannel sheets on it and even on my little food budget, I can still manage to make a pretty awesome cherry almond cake for Seth Jr's birthday.
Right now, my roommates are overflowing through our kitchen, some making dinner, some just hanging out around the table. Bill–our house "dad"–comes walking through the kitchen in his headlamp, off to fix something in the garage. I'm surrounded completely by to-do lists and notes from work projects. Somewhere in the mess is a Crock-Pot cookbook I was looking through at one point this evening. Later, we'll play cards in the great room and go to bed early, like real adults do.
Everything proves to me that He is an Ephesians 3:20 God. He has given me so much so that I can turn around and pour it back out. Every moment in the office, every minute spent answering emails and working on the logistics of new projects, is just as much Kingdom-minded and bringing as any moment on the field. I get to give back to the community that has given me so much, and, by doing so, serve the God "who sees me."
