The race is almost over.
11 months has turned into 11 weeks.
What I wouldn’t give to get back the days that I deemed “the longest day ever.”
But it’s a fact.
Re-entry is coming, and coming quickly.
So here’s a list.
A list to remember, to declare, to celebrate, and to grieve.
This has been the longest, the quickest, the hardest, the easiest, the worst, and the best year of my life.
I have been to places of the world that I never even knew existed.
I have slept in churches, dorm rooms, apartments, tents, treehouses, dirt floors, mudhuts, airports, bus stations, hostels, and hotels.
I have witnessed the poverty in Haiti and experienced the wealth of Los Angeles.
I have gone a month without a shower.
I have washed my hair with a drain pipe during the rain.
I have befriended bar moms, prostitutes, ladyboys in the red light district.
I have played connect four with an 8 year old child in the red light district.
I have witnessed people worshipping a statue.
I have experienced the loss of having a team member go home.
I have felt the joy of having a weird, radical family of sisters.
I have had my heart broken for the forgotten.
I have gotten to experience the beauty and wonder of the Thai lantern festival.
I have had a monkey steal my lunch.
I have hiked to some of the most beautiful beaches and waterfalls.
I have loved ministry contacts and disliked ministry contacts.
I have danced Indian choreography on a huge stage for a Christmas concert.
I have become part of a Malawian family.
I have cast out demons in Jesus’ name.
I have experienced freedom like I never have before.
I have been loved like I never have before.
I have re-enacted the bathroom scene from Bridesmaids with my team.
I have been chased after by a small army of children.
I have had days of ministry where all I did was hold a little girl in arms for a few hours.
I have endured more than two days of travel on an African bus.
I have slept in a bus full of my squadmates at the Tanzania/Malawi border.
I have looked out the window during a travel day and seen zebras, elephants, and giraffes on the side of the road.
I have survived malaria.
I have seen the most beautiful sunsets in Haiti after the hurricane and in Swaziland.
I have yelled declarations off of mountains.
I have eaten meals that were cooked on an open flame.
I have two and a half months left.
11 weeks.
Here’s to making these 11 weeks count.
I’m never going to get this time back.
I’m never going to be in Romania again with my J Squad family.
The rest of this time is going to go by fast. Freakishly fast.
Instead of going through the motions, I’m fighting to be present.
This year has been amazing. This last season of the race will be even more so.
