Well, it’s been almost two months since I touched down on American soil.
It seems like forever ago, and at the same time like it was just yesterday.
So much has happened since I’ve been home. So much that can only be explained with Jesus.
I’ve been meaning to sit down and write a blog about being home, thinking about it almost every day. I decided I wanted to wait until I had something to say, like the answer to everyone’s favorite question:
“Now what?”
But here I am, still waiting for the news I wanted to share with you. But you deserve a blog. My World Race may be over, but the Real Race has just begun.
Since being home, I have found it really hard to put into words what exactly I’ve experienced this past year. And what I’m experiencing now. The feelings, the emotions, the lessons learned, the people I met, how do you explain that? How do you share the joy? the love?
I don’t know. I still don’t know. As I started to write some thoughts down in my journal throughout the first couple weeks of being home, I felt the words that I wrote just weren’t doing it justice.
I’d read blog after blog from my squadmates about how they were feeling about reentry. And as I read one after the other, I found myself ‘amen’-ing their every word.
THESE were the words I could not find.
THIS was exactly how I was feeling.
I feel like all I can do now, is steal quotes from their posts to let you in on what reentry was like for me. My squadmate, Christin, took the words right out of my heart (those words that I couldn’t even find) in her blog, The Difference .
“Once the dust settled, I have found being home, interesting. It’s affirmed that I have indeed changed, more than maybe I realized and it’s painfully obvious that my heart is still in Kenya. Or Uganda. Or South Africa. Or really just the African continent. I miss it, a lot. And yet it’s this weird tango of emotions of loving being home amongst my peeps and yearning for the faces that melted my heart and helped regenerate the heart that beats for Jesus and Him alone.”
“Well for one, I have more wrinkles around my eyes and my laugh lines are super defined. Because I did that a lot last year. Laughed. Sometimes I feel like an old soul, recounting old war stories and feeling like 86 instead of a mid twenty something that paints her nails blue and whips her bangs back and forth.”
“Arise and go where? I thought about it and realized I miss ministry. I miss the children and the people who made my heart swell with love. But as servants of the Most High, aren’t we always supposed to be loving and forgiving and throwing out grace over offenses and spreading this great love Jesus has for us?
You know, arising and going. Picking ourselves up and going after it. No matter where we are.
Since I’ve been home, I have moments where I feel like I’m suffocating. Like I’m struggling for breath amidst so much unfamiliar which was once so familiar. I look for a baby to hold or an old man to smile at who probably spent the night on the streets and I find none. It’s like I just wanna hold onto the memories to carry me into the future. But if I’m trying to save myself, I’ll lose me. Yet if I lose me, I’ll preserve my life. That scripture used to make me nervous giggle because I simply didn’t understand.
But I think I’m beginning to catch on. Trying to hold onto the past of what the Race was, what it meant to me, how I changed and who I am now is futile in a sense. It’s good to remember and its even ok to cherish the memories, yet, the old is gone and the new is here.”
“The season of what was is precious. It was harder than anything I’ve ever attempted and it will always be special to me, but it’d be a crying shame to stay in that place of old war stories and neglect the opportunity Christ has stewarded to me as I embark on a new expedition in America.
The Race may be over, but really, life is just beginning. I have this unique chance to apply what Jesus taught me for 11 months at home. It’s hard but it’s good and I love a little spice mixed with a challenge so I plan to dive in feet first."
And these words from my squadmate, Emily, in her blog I Like Control.
“God has poured His provision and blessing on me, like He promised He would. He has provided a place to live and some ways to make money. He has provided the people that would listen so that I'd begin to figure out what the heck just happened. And I know that He is still paving the way for this next season in America. It's been Him. And it's been all Him.”
“Guatemala. Honduras. Nicaragua. The Philippines. Thailand. Malaysia. Cambodia. Kenya. Uganda. Swaziland. South Africa. Did that really happen?
Yet, He began to remind me of His goodness throughout those places. The miracles that were performed and the lives that I saw changed. He reminded me that He was there and He was permeating the darkness with His light… through my contacts, through my team and…through me. Whoa.
He used me this year. He had a plan and a purpose for me this year. And I feel crazy inadequate to have been apart of His blessings in the nations.
But, guess what? It doesn't end with this year.
He, the God of the Universe, is still working. He is still permeating this world with His love and light and He is still using me to do it.
This is the time that I get to live out the reality of Christ, the reality of His incredible miracles, because I know they happen. I repent for trying to be in control of the things around me and the feelings within me. I have a Father in Heaven who calls me by name. He takes care of me and never leaves my side.
I live for a God that died on my behalf. Who died on the world's behalf.
That should change absolutely everything.”
Since being home, I’ve turned this past year into statistics. But statistics only say so much. Facts only say so much. They lack depth and intimacy. It tells you something, but it doesn’t make you feel something.
I can tell you I slept in 70-some odd “beds.”
I can tell you I went to 11 countries.
I can tell you I did something for the first time 60-some times on the Race (I tried to keep track, but I don't even want to try to find where I wrote it all down…)
I can tell you I was on 21 planes and flew completely around the world.
I can tell you I only had two medical issues on the field.
I can tell you about the countless people I fell in love with and my heart broke for, I could even tell you their names.
But that doesn’t even begin to explain this past year.
I have no idea where to go from here, so I’ve decided to just keep moving forward, by following the Lord’s leading. As much as I still want to share with any willing ear all the incredible things that I’ve experienced and seen, I need to embrace the now, the new, the next.
I earnestly pray that I will never forget those fatherless children; those hopeless widows; those young, ambitious teens; the joy, the tears, the celebration.
I WILL remember. I will remember the people, the emotions, the experiences, the changes in me, the family that my team became.
The Bible tells us to "remember" over 230 times. I think that's because memories have a lot of power. Especially God memories. Especially memories of God's faithfulness.
They say hindsight is always 20/20. How true that is. Even as I look back now, I can see God’s hand in so many things that I didn’t see while I was caught up in the midst of the Race.
So today, I pray to never forget and always remember all that this past year has been, even if I never find the words for it.
I will remember.
