In the states, we have wifi and phones at our very finger tips 24/7.
On the race, you sometimes have to walk 30 minutes and buy a coffee just to send a text home.
In the states, I wouldn’t have missed the last 6 months of my grandfather’s life.
On the race, I was lucky enough to have had a little data on my phone so I could hear my dad’s voice as he cried while telling me my grandpa had passed away the night before.
In the states, I would have been able to attend my brother’s wedding.
On the race, I found the blessing in being able to FaceTime the ceremony at 2am because our host house in Romania had wifi and 12 hour time differences are a thing.
In the states, I wouldn’t have heard about my aunt passing away almost 2 days later.
In the states, I would be able to hold my mom as she mourns the loss of her sister.
In the states, I wouldn’t be crying alone in the middle of a Thailand KFC because that’s the closest wifi.
What I have learned on the race:
it’s ok to hate the race sometimes.
It’s ok to be mad.
It’s ok to find yourself a little broken in the middle of an American Fast Food Chain restaurant hoping they won’t kick you out because you haven’t bought anything.
It’s ok to question your calling while honestly asking, ‘God, why did you bring me here?! Why am I missing so much life at home?!’
I’ve been processing those two questions a lot this year.
It’s also ok to wish you were home for even just a brief breath of a second.
I’m tired of the loss.
I’m tired of the tears.
I’m tired.
But, here I am in month 10. Closer to God than I’ve ever been before. A year ago I might not have been able to hear His small but kind voice telling me…
‘Be mad. Raise some hell. Just don’t dwell there.’
