Month 11 is a weird place to be. I reflect on those times that feel like ages ago when I thought, "I'm on month 3… the end is never going to come." At launch, I'm pretty sure I thought I was leaving and never coming back. Everyone goes through crazy changes – ups and downs, happies and crappies -throughout the entire Race but month 11 rolls around and even weirder feelings come up.
When the 112 showed up in Malaysia, we were operating at an average of about 20% collectively. We spent our first week in Malaysia quarantined in a hostel battling infections, fevers, allergic reactions, and of course digestion issues (it's the world race…). Throughout the course of the Race, I've tried not to dwell on things at home but laying in bed with a 103 fever, all I wanted was my mom. We all dreamt of home and its comforts. When we got up to about 80% operating status, we got on a bus to our final ministry location. Our contact told us it would be a restful month for us, given only 3 days of ministry per week, and then prayed over us as we started our last month. He had not yet learned our names but prophesied amazing things over each of us, some things that were already true. (Crazy stuff but a story for another time.)
By week two, we were frustrated, slightly irritable, and bored with our lack of ministry schedule. I'm a huge fan of free time but you know what they say: Too much of a good thing…
Week three: We miss each other. It sort of hit all of us at once that we don't have much time left together. Time is running out! After this month, we'll probably never live together again, certainly not all 6 of us. So we lightened up a bit. We laugh, reminisce, stay up late and are generally less serious and more comfortable. We squeeze every last drop out of our moments together. I've caught myself tearing up at strange times like when Cassie talks about what she found for her dad for Christmas, or when Cat gets up for the third time in the middle of the night to pee, or when Mary sits quietly at a desk playing solitaire, or when we are all laughing hysterically about how we're going to surprise the next team that comes here (or to confuse and scare them.)
My fantasy arrival home plays over and over in my mind as I'm trying to go to sleep, every possible outcome is good because I'll be HOME. Sometimes I can hardly contain myself when I think about my nephew and I can't possibly know how big he is now. My bed has clean sheets on it and is waiting for me! My mom has practically already poured me a glass of wine and is sitting in front of the fireplace with eager ears to hear my stories.
But wait wait WAIT! What about them? My team, my family for the past 11 months. This is a group of people that have pushed me and loved me and supported me in ways that no one in my life ever has. I can't imagine walking with Christ without them because in all honesty, I never have before. I don't doubt the things I've learned this year and I'm certainly not tapping out of this new and wonderful relationship. But I am afraid. I'm nervous about what's next, mostly in regard to my squad, my dear friends. I trust that God will take me where I need to go and place the people in my path that I need to be in relationships with. He won't let me drown and I won't let myself throw in the towel… so I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's all good.
Everything is under control.
And this is just the beginning.
