Currently, I am sitting in my bed in a room that reminds me of an old World War 2 hospital in Antananarivo, Madagascar reflecting on the past 3 months of the Race. I realize now that the Race is nothing like I expected. These countries are nothing like I could have ever imagined. As much as I have tried, their beauty cannot be captured in a simple photograph. The struggles I have faced are nothing like the ones I mentally prepared myself for.
I have slept on the ground. I have slept in airports. I have gone days without sleeping at all. That I can handle. I have seen bugs bigger than my hand. It isn’t the cobras or white scorpions that bring me to a point where I feel like I could break. Ants crawling all over me all the time and mosquitos swarming and buzzing in my ear all night don’t even faze me anymore. My teammates and I can be covered in 50-100 bug bites at any given time and that is life. The expectation of reliable wifi went out the window months ago along with privacy, independence, clean clothes, outlets to charge devices, toilet seats, toilets in general, cleanliness and at times power and access to clean drinking water.
It isn’t the ice cold bucket showers or lack of showers that bring tears to my eyes this morning. It isn’t the fact that I was on my period the first 27 days of the Race. It isn’t the fact that people don’t speak English or that I can’t understand church. It isn’t the fact that I yearn to hear a normal American Church sermon. I know I will be hand washing my clothes for the next 8 months, wearing the same clothes over and over again missing my closet back home. I know that my body will continue to be wrecked for Jesus and all of our things will continue to get lost then found, lost then found again.
I have kissed all of my comfort foods goodbye. I have been stuck out in the Bush for days in torrential downpours without any shelter. I have slept outside in pretty wicked thunderstorms and survived my first cyclone. As of 3 days ago I lost one of my most treasured possessions when my hammock ripped in half. That is life. I have gotten used to the curve balls life throws at me on the Race. What I haven’t gotten used to is how much I miss everyone back home.
There are so many things that could make me uncomfortable on the Race but I can honestly say I would withstand them all in return for the warm embrace of my best friend right now. My biggest sacrifice hasn’t been the tangible or the emotional. It has been the community of people living out their daily lives back home while God has called me out into the wilderness to serve him and bring kingdom to the nations. What brings tears to my eyes this morning is how deeply I miss my family and friends. I know I will thrive on the Race, God has equipped me for that. What I don’t know is if dealing with the emptiness I feel will ever get easier.
These are voids that can only be filled with the selfless love of my mother, advise from my father, or a big bright smile from my brother. I love being a daughter of Christ! I love serving God and bringing kingdom, but I also love being an earthly daughter, a sister and aunt to the most precious little boy.
I miss the sweet baby giggles coming from my nephew as his mouth is overflowing with white powdered doughnuts or McDonalds chicken nuggets. I miss his low growl when he doesn’t get what he wants. It pains me to think that in 3 and a half weeks I will miss his 2nd birthday. I haven’t even had enough wifi to find out when his party will be or what cartoon loves most right now.
I miss the sweet voice that calls me “Aunt Kay Kay” and the sassy voice that calls me “Miss Kayce.” I miss our sleepovers and mornings filled with the giggles of precious little girls. I miss the conversations we have in my car as I drive Violet or Ashtyn to our next adventure destination. I miss picking Violet up from school on Fridays when it is “Lollipop Day.” I miss the look on Ashtyn’s face when she tells me how good she did in school and even the look she gets when she has to tell she wasn’t the best. I miss the sweet kisses and silly selfie sessions.
Everything on the Race is bearable. What feels unbearable in this moment is missing out on the growth and success of my friends back home. For every day that I wish I could call them and share an awesome story or God filled moment, I know there are days equally matched that they want to pick up the phone and call and cant. Cell service, wifi and differing time zones prevent it all. Life doesn’t stop when God call us to 11 months of radical living. It is not the tangible things or emotional up and downs that have tears rolling down my face, it is the sacrifice, the complete and total abandonment. Loneliness. Total dependence on God because everyone else is halfway around the world.
I am thriving! I really am! God is calling me to be vulnerable and admit I just really miss you all and that’s okay. I cry tears of endless love for each of you. I pray for you everyday. For your families, for your professions, for our clients, for your sweet babies, for your babies on the way, for your good days, for your bad days, for the days where you feel like you are going to lose your mind, for the days when you feel like you’re not good enough but you are, for the houses you are purchasing, for the growth God is doing in you, for the rings that better be on your fingers by the time I get home, for the weddings we will get to plan, for the birthdays we will celebrate together in the years to come, for the girls weekends, for soccer Saturdays, for the joy and laughter you experience even in my absence. I pray for it all.
I miss you! I love you! … and today I just needed to say it out loud.
Love,
Kace
