The title of this blog has absolutely nothing to do with it’s content, so we can just get that out of the way right now. It’s more like the title of a Fall Out Boy song. We’ll give it the sub-name of I Can’t Wipe the Dirt Out of My Eyes (There’s Dirt on My Hands and Shirt Too).
Sorry.
Continuing on.
I sat in a pile of mud today and realized that I haven’t written in almost two weeks. Not just written here – I haven’t written anything. No logs of my days, no letters to friends, no blog ideas, no tweets. I haven’t felt compelled or inspired in any way and I don’t know why.
So I want to start this long-overdue post to you, my readers, by apologizing. Not only for failing to write down anything about this radical adventure that I’m on, but for not inviting you into the adventure! You’ve so faithfully supported me on my Race, but I’ve been feeling convicted that maybe I’ve talked more about stray animals and ice cream cones than I have about the work that God’s been having me do here.
And you didn’t sacrifice your time and money so that I could travel the world.
True, there are really, really gorgeous life moments on the World Race, and days aren’t always defined by the dirt in your hair or how many times you’ve eaten buttered noodles and bread for lunch and dinner this week (11 times). Some days, you have a warm shower, or get to eat tiramisu at a hotel sky bar, or visit a nearby country the way that we back in America would visit another state; in the last month and a half, my team has been to four countries, and the magnitude of that isn’t lost on me.
(p.c.: AnnaKate Auten)
But there are also the nights when you call a sleeping pad your mattress and share the floor with an ant infestation. Or a month goes by and you’ve worn the same four t-shirts so many times that you literally start to wonder what you ever looked like in anything else.
Earlier this afternoon, we got done with farm work early, so a few of us rounded up our filthy clothes and went out back to hand-wash our laundry in a sheep trough. In the pouring rain. And this girl doesn’t yet have a rain jacket. I looked back at the sheep staring and thought, Yep, this is my life now.
(AnnaKate Auten, duh)
I think I haven’t written because the ministry that Team ETC. has been involved in hasn’t been easy to put into words. And to be really honest . . . doing the World Race is one hell of an experience that is really hard to measure in something as small and plain as words.
I’ve seen more beauty and pain and evil and joy and freedom in the last 45 days than I have in the last year – but in explaining them, how can I do all of the experiences justice?!
SO. My commitment to you from here on out is not to flake out on story-telling, even when I’m feeling inadequate.
Here’s everything you may have missed in the last two weeks.
Life here in Albania is really extraordinary. Y-Squad teams left Serbia around October 6th, took various trains and buses into the capital city of Tirana, and tumbled off the public transport into a marigold-yellow, walled-in hostel that sat head and shoulders above the rest of the street. Covered in artistically placed graffiti and large walls swathed in coloured paint, all 43 of us spent five days being poured into by our squad coaches and squad leaders as we explored the city, attended sessions, had one-on-ones, slept in squeaky bunk beds, had spontaneous worship sessions on our balconies (until the cops came), and tried poorly to hide our food from the resident cat. I left debrief feeling like my soul had just taken a bath – so, so happy and filled, but also with a new challenge.
One night in Tirana, the coaches led a pretty intense talk about vulnerability, and I got up in front of the whole squad and shared some personal stuff about myself. I felt safe with them (my last blog sums it up way better than I’m summing it up right now), and was ready to walk away from the behaviours of isolation and distrust.
Two days later, I found out that someone I trusted as a friend had betrayed our friendship in a super inappropriate and dishonoring way.
I felt like I’d been kicked in the heart.
I felt like throwing up.
I felt like the grey-haired priest at the start of Les Mes who invites Hugh Jackman into his church as protection from the snow, only to wake up in the middle of the night and find that Hugh’s run off with his cups and fancy silver candlesticks.
And as I sensed the emotional weight pressing down on me like a heavy hand, alarms started going off in my mind that screamed, “I TOLD YOU SO. RUN. RUN. RUN.” Sitting under a blanket of a thousand diamond stars with another squad-mate later that night, we talked about how hard I was fighting just to stay put, and not to chalk it up to “this is what all people will eventually do”.
As ironic as it is, I’m now fighting for my peace.
(p.c.: Tabitha Turner)
This month, Albania, is all-squad month – the first and only month that all of Y-Squad will be living and working together at one ministry. All seven teams are living on a farming compound in the city of Lezhe (pronounced Lay-zuh), where our ministry contact George runs a summer camp in addition to his primary source of income – a pig farm.
Days here at the compound begin at 7:30am sharp and end around dinner time each day, complete with scheduled morning Bible studies and “team times” in the evenings. The animals here are pretty serious business to George and half the squad spends their days in the pens cleaning up after the pigs. The rest of us have been taking turns rearranging bales of hay within the storage rooms, knocking down cinderblock walls with sledge-hammers, building walkways, and just generally doing what we’re told.
But all the rain and mud and long days aside, there is so much joy on our team and in our squad. No, literally – there’s Joy. Guys, meet the newest member of the weirdness that is Team ETC. This is Joy, and she’s the raddest, essential-oiliest, most generous and free-spirited girl I know.
She came to us from another team, and it’s safe to say that it feels like Christmas came early. We welcomed her by purchasing a Swiss roll the size of a small island and sitting at an empty cafeteria table, eating it without our hands. I SWEAR we will take pictures if this ever happens again so just use your imagination
*~*~*~*~~* here. *~~*~*~*~*
Hey. I love you guys.
Thank you for supporting me, reading these blog things, encouraging me, praying for me, and loving me back. Y-Squad could all use intercession this month, and you can be praying for rest, strength, endurance, patience, and unconditional love.
With all my heart.
