Parent Vision Trip. Just like it sounds. Parents get to see a small vision of our race and our ministry. I was lucky enough to have both my parents take time out of their lives, fly out to Thailand, and spend some time doing ministry with me.
Rewind to training camp, where I first heard about PVT. I was dead set against having my parents come out. It’s a lot of money, and I didn’t want to put that burden on my parents. I also have a little brother still in the house, so he would need a ‘babysitter’ (Shout out to Eric & Emily!). I also knew that I would struggle with being homesick if my mom and dad came out to see me. I didn’t want to open that can of worms again of leaving my parents again for a long period of time. So no, at training camp, my parents were not even going to know about PVT or be invited.
Fast forward to Launch. Another place I didn’t want my parents to be, for another reason. The dates were close to my younger brother’s wedding. I was also flying back home for a couple days for the wedding after launch, unlike everyone else in all the squads. I knew that at Launch, parents were going to have to say goodbye to their child for 11 months, and here I was telling my parents when to pick me up from the airport the next day.
I felt bad, guilty.
But my parents found out about PVT at Launch. My plan was ruined of them finding out. But a seed was planted in my head. Why shouldn’t I invite my parents? Why should I hold them back from participating in something that I’m doing for 11 months.
The roles were reversed. My parents didn’t hold me back when I told them about the Race, why should I hold them back from the Race?
Flash forward to Zimbabwe. My relationship shifted with my parents to something stronger. I emailed my mom more, talked to both my parents for hours on skype. But how I talked changed. I was open with my parents. I went to them for guidance and encouragement. I let my parents in on my race.
I can’t explain what happened in Zimbabwe. I’ve always been close to my parents. I trust what they have to say, I respect their opinions, and I love my parents. But something shifted in Zimbabwe, something I can’t explain.
In Malaysia, the month before PVT, I started seeing my relationship with my parents in a different light. One of my teammates told me that they loved their family but wouldn’t spend their free time trying to skype with them. They told me that how I loved my parents was something different. They could see the joy I had when I talked with my parents. Our relationship, I’ve noticed, is not normal.
So I was chomping at the bit to see my parents. I had been traveling for 7 straight days to get to Chiang Mai. I was emotional. And yes I cried when I saw them. How could I not? I love my parents and hadn’t seen them in 9 months. Finally I had my parents in my arms. I could hug and squeeze them all I wanted.
In the ministry, we went on some monk chats at a local temple, played with kids at the slums, and did some physical labor at the ministry, Lighthouse. Those happened in the afternoon, then in the evenings, bar ministry. Something that I was dreading, physically dreading for a month since finding out and even before the race since I heard about bar ministry. We were to go into bars, and just hang out with the women there. Hanging out at bars is not my favorite, nor my parents. To hang out with the lost women, who are forced to throw themselves at men. These woman are forced to sell their bodies. It’s heart breaking and something that I never thought would affect me like it did.
*I suggest you read blogs from my squadmates who are working there all month to find out more*
Through all the ministries, several racers had to have hard, honest conversations with their parents. And at some point during one of our amazing meals at Zion Cafe, my parents and I talked. It was a thank you for being awesome parents kind of talk. It was a thank you for being parents that’s loved me in ways that I felt open and honest with them. It was a thank you for raising me up in the church, and raising me up to the woman I am today. I didn’t have any surprises that I needed to tell them about because of our relationship. I could talk about anything and everything with them, and it’s become rare nowadays.
But it wasn’t always flowers and candy for me.
I know my mom has a magical way with kids. It’s not some hidden talent of hers. And so when she was asking about going to the slums again instead of working at the Lighthouse house, I had some sort of emotion I could understand. In a moment of jealousy, or something, I wanted my mom to be like all the other moms. Just do the ministry with your child. And that thought is so stupid, and I know that. My mom here wants to love on kids in a slum in Thailand, and here I am wanting to slide into the background and not get noticed, not stand out. And that’s so selfish and stupid. There’s no way around that. It’s nothing that my mom did, so don’t blame yourself Mom. It’s all me, I didn’t see it like Christ would’ve. So mom, I apologize for not encouraging you in going to the slums again. I regret trying to force you into this box I created. I’m sorry.
Also seeing my parents made me really want home. PVT is a sneak peek for our parents but also for us too. We can see a sneak peek into what life after the race will be like. I saw that. I know it’s going to be hard going home and having grace for people. I saw how much the parents, all of them, used their phones. It’s a small thing, but you notice things like how much people use their devices when you go without. I have to have grace with people who can’t unplug, because they don’t know any different. I have to stay strong when I need to say hard challenging things to people who don’t know how to take it. I also have to come to grips about people not following my journey, and just not understanding the changes in me.
I also had my selfish side come out. I didn’t want to share my parents. I didn’t want to eat a meal at a table with other people, I just wanted my parents.
But most importantly, out of everything, I’m so proud of my parents. I’m proud to call them Mom and Dad. I’m proud of how they love each other and love others.
When we were at Lighthouse, I was taking off doors, then sanding and repainting them with Austin (former leader from Kaleo) and my dad. My mom was painting a flower pot with some of the other parents. I had flashbacks of hot summers working on 4-H projects. I miss those days! I was so proud to have my dad being a boss at the physical labor and my mom beautifully decorate a flower pot for the house. Then at the slums, my dad is running around in the hot Thailand sun, playing soccer with the boys. And my mom has all the little kids huddled around her. We are swinging them around and unconditionally loving on all of them. My parents weren’t hiding in the shade, when I wouldn’t have blamed them. They were giving it their all. I’m proud that I’m their daughter, and I got to witness that in Thailand.
Mom and Dad, I love you so much! I’m glad you changed my mind about inviting you out to PVT. Tell Eli I said hi, and will see you soon! Plus Bethany and Cassidy said I had the greatest parents, and couldn’t agree more!!
