I’m coming back soon. I’m coming back to people I love. I’m coming back to my favorite coffee place. I’m coming back to a lot of change that will take some time to catch up on. The closer the end of this particular chapter of my life comes, the more apprehensive I am at knowing it means having to process through this last year. I’ve posted pictures and tidbits about all the beautiful things, and I try to keep it real with the hard moments, but something I implore all of you back home is not to put me and what I’ve done on a pedestal. The race is messy, boring, exhausting, and unpredictable as life was before I left. Honestly it amplifies those things and every aspect of how your character handles them. There is hardly a month where you do not have diarrhea. Being around your team so much is equated to a mock marriage because you will know each other so well it can be hard not to get annoyed. We are dying to ourselves daily because we truly want to love well; even if that means sharing your Fanta.
What I haven’t told you is during the beautiful adventurous moments is what else is going on around us. We stayed at a breathtaking beach in the Philippines, but we were surrounded by people living in tin and tarp shacks where most kids only had one item of tattered clothing to wear. I got to pet tigers and elephants in Thailand, but every night my eyes and nose burned from the overpowering smell of incense and alcohol coming from the bars where women were selling themselves. I had some amazing coffee in Vietnam where the friends we made are the only Christians in their family and are persecuted for it constantly. We jumped off a bridge in Zambia, but so many locals were scattered across the road selling carved animals for their next meal. Now in Europe we’ve done some incredible hiking, but you see gypsies and how people glare at them like their diseased.
Even within our own squad people have had their fair share of mess to work through. I’ve had several breakdowns and lost my temper a couple times. I’ve made comments that I know have hurt people and I have to humble myself and apologize. I’ve had plenty of hard conversations. I’ve disappointed people. They have disappointed me. I’ve had days where I wanted to lie about being sick just so I could stay back from ministry to have time alone. I have selfishly not volunteered to do something because I flat out didn’t want to. I’ve had to get up consistently at 5:00am because that was the only time in a whole day I’d have to spend with God. Just for added measure, I’ve also been pooped on by pigs, bit by a donkey, chased by a crazed horse, thrown up, had kids with soiled hands play with my hair, found giant spiders in my things, and was in a hostel that caught on fire. About the only thing I have managed to escape was pooping my own pants.
You know what really freaks me out? I have no idea what my next step is in life. There are potential prospects, but I haven’t been told a clear yes to anything. I didn’t come on this trip to find myself and my true calling. I’ve always known I’d be called to ministry, and I still don’t know what that exactly looks like. I came to serve. I came to get a load of shit removed from my heart because I was sick and tired of making a mess of myself and trying to clean it up best I could. I was totally done with keeping it altogether. To willingly put myself out there to be broken I knew would be hard, but I had no idea the extent it would reach. God does not leave anything untouched. If you let him…
But you know what? “He will give a crown of beauty for ashes.” It tore my heart out saying goodbye to the orphans we loved on in Cambodia, but getting to see their smiling faces every day softened something inside of me that my team also got to benefit from. Though I couldn’t buy from every vendor in Africa, I’d still give them a smile to let them know they’re acknowledged and sometimes pray with them. With the finish line in sight I keep daydreaming about my Nutty Irishman cappuccino. I could easily check out, and boy it’s a freaking fight not to. It’s painful to think about my close friends from the squad all scattering across the country. I don’t know how people will react when they see how much I’ve changed, and what that’ll do to relationships. Which goes along with one of the huge underlying lessons of this trip: I am not in control. Ever.
I’ve given up trying to expect anything. That died in me after like month 2. If you’re a future racer reading this, don’t get freaked out and reconsider what you signed up for. God brought you here, and I do not regret a single thing that has happened. I am saddened by some instances, but his sovereignty has always proven greater and given comfort. I’m not coming home to “real life.” Life is only as “real” as you make it. God is constantly beckoning us. He’s spontaneous. He’s wild. He’s gentle. He’s constant. He’s stern. He’s wanting us to make the most of where we are all the time. No, I do not want to go back to a desk job, but if I have to I’m ok with it because it isn’t forever. There’s adventure to be had even at a nine to five.
I’ve been and done some exotic things, but I am still me. I am still Kelsey, and if I’m so bold to say, I am not a better me. I am more of the real me in looking like His daughter. With ample room to improve yes. I don’t want people to see me when I come home. I want them to first notice the Christ in me and what he has done. In that I know everything is worth it.
