10 days.
10 days and this crazy thing will be over.
My mood changes constantly. One minute I’m so excited to go home and see my family and friends and the next I’m scared that they won’t understand what my life has been like the past 11 months.
One minute I look forward to things to come and the next I’m sad thinking of things that are ending.
Month 11 is such a weird place to be in.
You have lost count of the amazing people you’ve been able to meet and form relationships with. Sometimes you have to sit and really try to remember those from the beginning.
You’ve lost count of how many places you’ve stay and how many beds you’ve slept in.
You’ve lost count of how many faces that are forever etched in your memory.
You’ve lost count of how many families have let you graciously come into their home and have taken care of you.
This has become normal life. And honestly, it’s not exciting anymore. It has come to a point where change is scary again, just like the days leading up to leaving. Another chapter is ending and a new one is going to begin.
So what do you do?
What do you do when you’re about to go home from the world race?
Remember.
My team has been assigned to ATL/UHC this month. And the past four weeks we have moved a total of 8 times. I’ve slept in 8 different beds in the past 4 weeks. And this is just a small glimpse of what my life has looked like the past 11 months. Packing. Moving. Unpacking. Packing. Moving. Unpacking. Repeat that about one hundred or more times and you’ve got the world race. It’s hectic.
But the next couple of days we’re taking a break. We’re in Cameron highlands for a couple of days before we head to meet a couple of other teams, before all of us head to final debrief.
And over the next couple of days that’s what I’ll be doing.
Remembering.
Remember the person you were when you stepped off the plane on day number 1.
Remember every hardship.
Remember every triumph.
Remember every team member and how they’ve helped grow you.
Remember every heart-break.
Remember every contact, yes, even the not so good ones.
Remember those who God told you were special. Maybe only to you.
Remember when the life-long friendships began.
Remember every child’s face you held.
Remember every story you’ve been told.
Remember all the laughter.
Remember all the tears.
Remember the lessons.
But most importantly, remember God.
Remember how you learned to lean on Him.
Remember how He provided.
Remember how He revealed himself.
And remember every person you saw Him in.
And I’m sure this process will continue when I get home as well.
It’s really easy to get lost in plans back home. But don’t let that happen.
Stop planning.
Remember.
Don’t let the memories of this year just pass away.
It will all seem like a dream. You have to fight to now let these memories fade away.
Write about them.
Paint them.
Remember them.
