“I’m coming home
I’m coming home
Tell the world I’m coming home…”
These lyrics have been running through my head for probably about the last two to three weeks. I’m coming home. I have hit the last month of my journey and while I try to stay focused on finishing out well, at the back of my mind is the constant thought of home.
I mean who wouldn’t be thinking of home after being gone for the last 11 months? The room with all my comforts: cuddly pillows, warms blankets, the clothes I could not pack (a.k.a. my sweatshirts and sweatpants) and the big bed to spread out in. The shelves of books, constant power, a warm shower whenever I want it, a fully stocked kitchen (with familiar food – not that the food has been bad, but, ya know, the shelves are stocked with food you know…) with all my favorite cooking utensils and the option to leave whenever I want…by myself.
But let’s be honest all those things are second wheel to seeing my family (man, I miss my mom, dad, sister and brother-in-law), my extended family (all those aunts and uncles plus the crazy cousins who keep me laughing and my amazing grandparents), my friends and catching up on where life has taken us over the last year. As I look over the last year I see all the growth I have gone through (which I wouldn’t change for the world), but I also see all the change that has happened while I have been gone…My sister and brother-in-law moved, my best friend got engaged, my parents got a new dog…these are some of the major life events…but I have also missed the smaller events too, the ones that get passed over in the weekly or bi-monthly updates, the ones that change a decision here or impact a decision later on.
But, as excited as I am to returning home, I am also apprehensive.
This journey changed me, there is no doubt about that, but fear has a way of seeping into the tiny cracks of joy and cause doubts.
-I am afraid that I won’t be able to find a job I enjoy.
-I am afraid that I will fall back into the same patterns I had when I left home and not stick to the new ones I have developed over the last year.
-I am afraid that everything will be different
-I am afraid no one will get what I have gone through.
-I am afraid I will become complacent.
-I am afraid that no one will pursue me.
-I am afraid people won’t take an interest in my experiences beyond asking how “the trip” was.
-I am afraid I will not find a community to be a part of.
-I am afraid I will not be able to process my thoughts.
-I am afraid I will deal with horrible culture shock.
-I am afraid I will lash out at the ones closest to me.
-I am afraid…
After being gone a year many things change and you along with them. It is hard not being apprehensive about coming home, but also so very excited. When I walk out of customs and once again onto American soil I am going to be fighting 2 extreme emotions: Joy and Sorrow. Joy at being home and surrounded by what I define as familiar, but also great sorrow at loosing close physical proximity to the family I have spent the last year with.
You see, I have lived in close community for 11 months. This means I have slept in the same room with my teammates, shared meals and served alongside these amazing women and men for almost a year. If I want solitude I have to seek it out, carve it out. It is not something easily gained or found when you live in close proximity to 5 other people. By living in close community to these people, I have formed lasting friendships forged in the fire of trials and refined through common experiences.
Constant change is one of your closest companion on the race. Every 20 to 28 days you pack up your things, travel to a new destination, and start all over again. Once you begin to feel settled, it starts all over again. Then team changes are thrown into the mix along with time changes and the ever possibility that you might not be traveling that day due to break downs or airline strikes (Thank you Kenya Airlines!). You never feel quiet settled, but by month 4 it is the norm and you really don’t notice any more.
I am going to miss the constant presence of geckos (they have been in all 11 countries), sleeping in close quarters with 5 other women on our sleeping pads, giggling over something silly, talking late into the night. I am going to miss crazy public transportation situations where the best stories come from (ask about chicken buses in Nicaragua). I am going to miss shopping in markets where you get offers of marriage from every other vender and dirt cheap fresh veggies. I am going to miss sharing daily life with a group of Godly women, who push me to be the best version of myself and to seek after God more fully.
This is the end of one season, however it is not the end of my walk. I went on this journey to jolt myself out of the rut I had become trapped in, but I found myself changing and learning way more than I expected. God used this journey to shape me into becoming a better daughter, sister and friend, but firstly a better follower of Him. I am so excited to come home, however the sorrow I feel at the end of a life changing season will also be there as I celebrate the joy of being home.
