I arrived in D.C. for Launch yesterday in what felt like a dream-like state, and remained there for most of the day. Perhaps it was the exhaustion. Perhaps it was the doxycycline (which has been reported to give some people hallucinations)…or perhaps it is just the fact that I am about to embark on the craziest and most terrifying adventure of my life and I still can't believe it's actually happening.
I had just left my entire life behind… I had quit my job, I'd played with my dog one last time, gave my mom and my brother farewell hugs, and said a tearful and prolonged goodbye to my boyfriend at the airport. I stood, fatigued, in the airport security line, trying to mask my tears and put on a cool face as I took my shoes off and carelessly shoved my belongings into plastic tubs. Let me just tell you; everything you do at an airport seems exponentially more difficult when you're sad and know you're leaving something or someone(s) you love for an extended period of time. There is a finality and sentimentality in all of it that makes it rather hard to swallow (not unlike the oatmeal I bought at a coffee stand next to my gate). I kept asking myself if I was really ready to drastically change my life forever. After all, life as it stood yesterday wasn't so bad. It wasn't perfect, but it was okay. It was comfortable, and isn't comfort what we're told to work for for our entire lives anyway?
There have been multiple times during this process when I've wanted to throw in the towel. I wanted to call it quits when my fundraising account was stuck at $150 for weeks on end (all money I gave to myself) and it didn't seem like anyone believed in me enough to support me financially. I wanted to end it when training camp was just a week away and I didn't have any of the proper gear to get me there. I wanted to run away and never look back when training camp became difficult and the anxiety set in about what people on my squad and my team were going to think about me once they actually got to know me. There have been plenty of times I've wanted to slip out quietly and give my money to someone else because I've thought that I am not an adequate enough of a Christian. Or, at least, not the right kind of Christian. Not for this. I've often felt that I somehow slipped through the cracks in this whole process and by month 4 they're going to be like, "Whoa, okay, BACK UP. How did you even get here?"
The cool thing is, though, is that at the end of all of that, there's always this whisper that says, "You were meant for this." It is usually drowned out pretty quickly by internal shouts of doubt and anxiety, but it always finds it's way back. It always finds a way to make it's voice heard. God always finds a way to make his voice heard, even among the most neurotic. And in the end, money showed up (but not all of it, WINK). Gear showed up. God showed up.
The cool thing is, though, is that I'm here. I am still here, and the World Race still wants me. I may not always understand it, but they do. They see something in me that I am not yet able to see in myself, and they do this really cool thing where they try to see people as Jesus sees them…with all the mess, but also with copious amounts of potential and heaping amounts love, ready to be given freely and humbly to change hearts and to change the world.
So, as I sit here in room 1170 at the Dulles Airport Holiday Inn on the second day of launch, I feel grateful. Grateful to Grayson Hary for introducing me to the World Race, grateful to the World Race staff for giving me this opportunity, grateful to my mom and other family members who have so generously helped me acquire gear and medicine, grateful to my supporters for sacrificing on my behalf, grateful to Kalen for always encouraging me during my mini-meltdowns, and anyone who has prayed a prayer, thought a kind thought, or sent good vibes on my behalf and for the sake of this journey I'm about to embark on. It still feels like a little bit like a dream, but I'm living it, and it turns out that yes, I am ready to drastically change my life forever.
P.S., i found out I'm leaving the country on Friday. We fly to Dubai, then to South Africa, then hop on a bus for potentially 24+ hours to Mozambique. Let the race begin!
-Kelley
