Goodbyes are not for the faint of heart.
I said goodbye to some of my closest friends in the world and it hurts.
I miss them. Bad. Already.
I missed my family and friends and church, but to be honest, I rarely missed America.
In the land of free, I get normal bathrooms (that usually have toilet paper), I get great wi-fi, and delicious food, but it comes at a cost.
I can’t say that I enjoyed the awkward feedback sessions on the Race, but it sure means a lot that people were willing to embrace the uncomfortable with me.
I can’t say that having Hulu and great wi-fi again beats the joys of sharing a room with the women on your team and having conversations about anything from bald animals and farting to your struggles with worth and identity.
I can’t say that I loved being in nations where they worshipped other gods and I felt spiritually attacked and oppressed, but being back in America where people think self-actualization is the purpose of life is hard.
Re-entry is hard.
I am an alumni Racer and I still don’t have it figured it out. I walk past the homeless people in New York City and I am confused. Should I stop and take them all out for a bite to eat and hear their story? Should I only buy from certain companies who don’t exploit people in the countries that I have just been to? Should I change the way that I minister to my friends and family?
I don’t know, but I do know the Lord and I know it’s all going to work out.
For those who have not heard the news yet, I have been recently hired as a math teacher at William Penn High School and I am excited. I am excited to educate and enact change in this generation. I so believe in them. I so believe in my kids and I have not met them, but I pray for them and I love them and I think that’s a start.
I think the way that you re-enter well is to keep loving and praying.
Photo courtesy of Alana Van Middlesworth
The Race is over.
I probably won’t see some of the people from my squad again.
I probably will want to shut down and not be vulnerable again.
I will probably want to work and serve to prove to people that I am valuable and worthy of love.
I will probably still wonder if a lot of the lessons that I learned are true.
But I will stay in the ring.
Brené Brown is a researcher on shame and she wrote a book called Daring Greatly that I was strongly encouraged to read by my friend, Kalah, and it puts to words how so many of us feel about vulnerability. In the book, she uses the analogy of the boxing ring and how we need to show up and try and even if we don’t succeed in being totally vulnerable or trusting or whatever it might be, at least we did so daring greatly.
Photo courtesy of Alana Van Middlesworth
And that is what re-entry looks like for me.
Not…
- despising America
- trying to make my family and friends at home be like my squad
- getting overwhelmed with trying to keep up with too many Race friends,
- becoming a workaholic,
- not trying to convert everyone in my path,
- not condemning myself for enjoying some of the comforts of home.
Re-entry looks like a slow and steady pace with the Lord that is full includes lots of tears, many more laughs, showings of videos and viewing of pictures, silly text messages to Race friends and new memories with family.
Re-entry is hard, but I know it’ll be ok because truly, God’s Got This.
A special thanks to all my supporters. I surely could not have made it without you. You are such a blessing and I love you.
To all: If you’re interested in meeting up for a meal or a tea/coffee/dessert date, let me know!
