Lately, one of the most prevalent topics stirring around J Squad is “Re-entry.” Just exactly what is it going to look like when we get home? How did a yearlong adventure suddenly shorten to having merely a few months left? Will I ever be able to truly convey everything I’ve learned and experienced? What’s next? It’s a fairly scary thought pattern if you let yourself dwell there very long.
As much as I’d hoped to avoid it, I’ve admittedly joined the bandwagon. I can’t help it. A few days ago, I described the state of mind to one of my friends like this:
“You ever see the Harry Potter movie where Harry pours a memory into Dumbledore's Pensive (sp?) and just before He dives in, it swirls around with a gajillion other memories…? my head kind of feels like that. except the memories are thoughts. like more stuff to think over keeps getting poured in”
That’s actually quite accurate. So, in order to help myself out when in a few months I’m desperately trying to articulate anything close to what I’m actually thinking and feeling these days, here’s a snippet from my latest journal entry. I like to call it The-Mind-Of-A-World-Racer-After-Eight-And-A-Half-Months-On-The-Mission-Field. But that’s kind of long…
May 16, 2013
Draganesti-Olt, Romania
My greatest challenge used to be leaving. Whether saying goodbye to family as I set off on venture after venture, or bidding adieu to friends when it comes time to journey home, I used to find so much difficulty in goodbye. It hurts to walk away from people you love – people you are invested in. Or, at least, it probably should.
More and more, I note how the Race has shifted something in me. In so many ways, I feel like I’ve become a bit of a nomadic, adventure junkie who finds so much more satisfaction in the actual journey than the culmination of reaching my goal. Whatever this is, I’m finding that it makes it difficult for me to feel attached, anywhere.
I find it somewhat mind-boggling – as someone who once abhorred change with fervent passion, I now CRAVE it! After a few weeks in a place, I start getting “the itch.” I’m ready to pack up. I’m ready to move. Nowhere really feels like home. And maybe that’s for good reason.
Maybe I can’t truly settle anywhere because I still haven’t found the place where God says, “STAY.”
I find myself often dwelling on my future. This is nothing new. But, as always, I feel guilty for wasting today while dwelling on tomorrow. How do I balance the clear need I have to always be working toward something, with finding fulfillment and satisfaction where ever I find myself at any given time?
Be Blessed (and point me back to this when you ask me what The Race was like…),
Ashlee
