I would be sitting around the table with my aunts, uncles and cousins, probably playing some sort of card game and eating leftovers from the night before.
I would be online shopping, figuring out prices of things I wanted to open December 25th and making a list to show my parents, writing down URLs as well so they would know exactly where to find the things on said list.
I would be “helping” Granny make brownies in the kitchen and making sure the bowl and spoon were properly licked clean promptly after the batter was poured.
I would be putting ornaments on the tree with Andie and Novie, talking about the history of each ornament while we hung them, as if we hadn’t heard the stories millions of times before.
I would be doing the things I had always done and I wouldn’t even give them a second thought.
Instead…
I’m sitting in the living room of our compound in Tacloban, Philippines, sweating because that’s what you do at all times in this country. I don’t have wifi to online shop, or even check the weather forecast (but I know what it’ll say…HOT!). There isn’t a Christmas tree in the corner decorated with lights and ornaments. Brownie mix is incredibly hard to come by. I have to FaceTime to see my family, and even then, there are so many people, the conversations are short and sweet.
There are things they said would be hard on the Race and holidays were always at the top or near the top of that list. None of us are with our families, we don’t get the traditional meals we’ve always had, and although it’s almost December, the daily attire is shorts and tank tops and my one sweater sits in an air compressed cube at the bottom of my big pack.
I miss home. I do. It’s difficult being in a foreign country when you know so many things are happening in your house thousands of miles away.
However…
I get to feed hungry kids who have never had a Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner and I’m told when their pitcher gets full of porridge, it means they get to eat dinner that night.
I get to cultivate the land damaged by a typhoon three years ago and plant trees that will hopefully bless the community when they begin to bear fruit.
I get to worship with 27 other Racers at night and have devotionals with them each morning as we start and end our day.
I get to spend time with our ministry host and the cook and her family…people I absolutely adore now and never would have met if I didn’t come on this adventure.
Life just looks a little different this year.
I’m sure this time next year I’ll be sitting around the card table again playing the millionth game of 3-13 and sorrily losing each time.
I’ll lick the brownie batter and I’ll listen to the stories as the ornaments are being hung on the Christmas tree in the living room.
I may even do a little online shopping.
I’ll do the things that I once viewed as routine and I’ll know just how special all of it really is. I also know that while I’m doing the things I’ve always done once more, I’ll miss the places I’ve begun to call home all around the world. I’ll miss worship with my squad and seeing their faces in the morning. I’ll miss the smiles of the kids I’ve gotten to interact with and feed.
I’ll miss this crazy Kingdom journey that’s reshaped how I view life and people and Jesus.
That’s the beauty of it all, though. Sometimes it takes a new perspective, a little something different, to appreciate the things we’re so quick to dismiss.
So this year looks a little different from how it’s always been and next year will look different from this year, but no matter how it looks, it’s always good because Jesus is good and although the seasons change, He never does.
