This year has been hard. It’s so easy to share about all the incredible things that have happened on the race, but few people have been let in on the struggles and the hurt. Giving my life to Jesus didn’t mean He promised me it would be easy, and it hasn’t been. It’s been the tough times that have pushed me away from the habit of relying on my own strength and even closer into the arms of God. I can only begin to scrape the surface of what I’ve seen over the past year, but each day has left me feeling more humbled than the last.
I’ve seen and lived among intense poverty all over the world. I’ve seen grown men in Jamaica eating food out of trash cans. I’ve stood next to prostitutes in Thailand as they try to sell themselves to men. I’ve fallen asleep in Vietnam covered in ants. I’ve seen women in Lesotho have all of their mobility taken away from them because of arthritis and have no way to treat it. I’ve seen dogs beaten and been attacked by a dog. I’ve seen children wear the same outfit the entire month I’m with them, kids that can’t afford to go to school, and kids begging me for food on the side of the road. I’ve held a boy in Haiti as he ate the fuzz off his clothes, because like most of the children in that community he only gets to eat once every week or two. I’ve had parents ask me to bring their children home with me in the hopes that I can give them a better life. I’ve met girls that have been sold into voodoo sex slavery at a young age.
I’ve been so sick on the floors of Cambodia I couldn’t get off the floor without blacking out from the pain. I’ve eaten pb&j sandwiches every day for months on end, and felt my body struggle to adjust to an all carb diet. I haven’t been alone in eleven months. I’ve missed every holiday, some of my best friends getting married, precious time with my little brother before he moves abroad, and other big life events. It’s been almost a year since I’ve seen my family and friends. I’ve been stared at for being white. I’ve been looked down upon, degraded, and cat called for being a woman. I’ve given my heart to people in 11 different countries, only to have to say goodbye one month later. I’ve felt helpless listening to kids tell me that where they live is so dangerous it scares them to fall asleep at night and that their parents abuse them. I’ve seen and experienced things that will forever change my perspective.
I’ve lived in third world countries the past 11 months, and to be honest, going home in a month kind of scares me. Returning to the comforts of home when I’ve seen first hand how others live is hard to wrap my mind around. How is it fair that when I go home I can walk into a grocery store and buy all the food I want? How is it fair that I will have a roof over my head with electricity and running water and everything I could possibly need and then some? How is it fair that I have a closet overflowing with clothes? It’s hard to understand why I’ve been dealt the card in life that I have, but it’s humbling to know He has called me to love those that haven’t been dealt the same card. Through all the hurt and pain that I’ve seen on the race, God has showed me that through it all He is still good. I know that what He has taught me will stick. I now know that I can continue to walk in boldness, to share the gospel, and to be unashamed of Him wherever I am. I don’t expect the transition home to be easy, but I know he’ll continue to show me that He is good in wherever He leads me next. I know that when I feel like no one at home can possibly understand this past year, He does, and that’s enough.
For those that were there for me to talk about and process these things with me as they happened, both on the race and at home over the past eleven months, thank you. Thank you to my team for loving me at my best and my worst. Thank you to those that have loved some of the people I’ve loved, and made them feel known and important from across the ocean. Thank you to every person that has supported me through prayer and financially on this journey. God has blessed me with a pretty incredible support system. And lastly, thank you God for calling me to speak Your name and Your truth to the nations when I was previously living in the lie that I wasn’t “Christian enough” to be a missionary. Thank you for growing me in boldness, for calling the unequipped, and equipping the called.
And on that note, ready or not, see you soon Nashville.
