So, I’m home.
!!!!!!!!
I’m home, sitting in my own bed, typing on my own computer that miraculously survived a year under my bed but now turns off if you accidentally unplug it :/
I’ve been back in the US for about three weeks and back in Austin for three days.
It’s been so good, and weird, and hard, and satisfying, and stressful, and peaceful, and all the things it could possibly be, it has been.
One of the most humbling things I’ve been told over and over again since being home is that people have been following and enjoying my blogs. That is so beautiful and I’m not sure why I was so surprised, because I have a lot of awesome people in my life. Having said that, I know I need to apologize for not keeping up with blogging towards the end of my trip, especially as I was going through some of the hardest months on the field. I have been putting off actually writing a blog for a very long time. I think it started back in July when things started to get hard. In August things got harder, and I didn’t feel like I could (or even wanted to) process what was going on in my brain, so I didn’t. I need to ask for y’all’s forgiveness, and also, welcome to my final blog??! (Maybe, who knows?)
This might be messy, my brain feels messy and this is my first attempt to write about how I feel. #vulnerable
Coming home has been good for the most part. I think the Lord definitely used the challenges from Africa to prepare me to come home. Those last two months were the first time I actually desired to return home and it made goodbyes a bit easier, even though I hated being in a state of countdowns. I thought I would cry when we landed in Boston, and I almost did when I was on the phone with Grammy for the third time this year, but not quite. I thought I would cry when I began to say goodbye to teammates and friends, brothers and sisters, but to my own surprise I didn’t. It is a bit shocking to go one week from brushing cockroaches off of your meals and using half a bucket of water to shower to being on a plane with free wine and every Marvel movie you could name. Nothing really prepares you to go from one culture to the other when you’ve spent so much time away, even if it is your native land. At least, that’s what I experienced.
There were weird little habits and ticks I’d picked up that I realized I don’t need to be doing now that I’m home. Example: sees extra roll of toilet paper in the bathroom, thinks, “I should take that with me.” Or, makes sure to bring a full water bottle everywhere she goes because who knows the next time we’ll have access to free drinking water. I also caught myself not doing laundry when I was home because I forgot we had a dryer and I figured my clothes wouldn’t dry on the line in time for me to wear them when I wanted to.
Beyond the physical culture shock there was emotional and spiritual culture shock. This was and continues to be the most difficult thing to process and deal with. For eleven months I was part of a tight-knit community that was loving, encouraging, challenging, diverse, but with the common goal of desiring to look more like Jesus. I don’t think I’ve allowed myself to feel the weight of losing that community yet, especially a community that saw so much and went through so much together. I found myself unable to express myself in the same way, unable to feel comfortable in my own home and around familiar and beloved people in my life. (I also think I was prideful in thinking that re-entry wouldn’t be that difficult for me, and I was so wrong). Before arriving in Seattle my normal was sharing my living and work space with a certain special group of people, having time to sit alone and read my bible each morning, practice guitar when things got stressful, and always having a listening ear within reach, often in my own bed. And I think I just underestimated how hard it would be to get used to a new normal, especially for a short period of time until I was “home home” in Austin.
I struggled a bit with family and friends, and remember a moment in a conversation where I was unable to think of any small talk. I often felt/feel at a loss for the right words, and wanting desperately to share openly and honestly about my experiences but also knowing that could take more time than I’m allotted. When people ask questions I’m sort of scanning them to try to figure out if they want the two-word answer, the minute-long answer or do they want to sit down over coffee and have me brain dump on them for three hours? It’s hard to say, but for time’s sake I usually settle on one of the first two options. One of the hardest parts about re-entry for me is the inner conflict of wanting to share everything and also nothing, and I know that’s confusing. I think it also means I need to use my words more and be more proactive about communicating where I’m at when people ask me to share, or if I want to share. The World Race is a big, long, crazy thing, and if someone with the best intentions asked you to tell them everything about the last year of your life, what would you tell them?
It’s a hard thing, and I’ve spent a lot of this year trying to learn how to not focus on pleasing others and focus more on serving the Lord. I think re-entry puts to test all of the things a year like this teaches you: having patience, giving grace, assuming the best in others, willingness to be interrupted, not making judgements, acting honestly and communicating effectively. It’s just a new environment and under new circumstances, which brings new challenges. I have already disappointed myself with how I’ve acted since being home, how I’ve handled certain conversations, and how differently I would’ve handled those situations if I were still on the race. Thankfully, the bible tells us that where sin abounded grace abounded all the more, and Jesus forgives me in the midst of my struggle.
Finally arriving in Austin was a very emotional experience. I spent the previous two weeks traveling around Boston, Seattle and Michigan and seeing lots of beloved faces from lots of seasons of my life. This was good (also overwhelming, *note for next time I go overseas and come home and try to immediately do all the things) but so far it didn’t feel like “home.” The moment before we landed I looked out the window and saw my Texas and my stomach dropped. I don’t even remember walking off the plane, I just remember stumbling around the crowded and beautiful Austin-Bergstrom International Airport, and staring at the bench I sat on not even a year ago as I waited to fly out of Austin. I felt the happy tears coming and then release when I hugged my dear friends who came to pick me up and take me home.
I was instantly overwhelmed with all of my clothes and the vastness of my closet. I probably changed my PJ’s three times that night, overcome by the amount of choices I could make after having slept in the same shirt and shorts every night for over 300 nights in a row (A Squad, you KNOW what outfit combo I’m referring to). I really can’t express how good it felt to come home to my clothes, my bed, and my Sonicare. It was surreal getting behind the wheel of my car and visiting my grocery store and YMCA again, and yes, it did take me about an hour and a half to navigate my way through every aisle at the Mueller HEB. TOO MANY CHOICES OF THINGS TO BUY???
Being home has simultaneously felt like everything has changed and also nothing has. I find it hard to shake the feeling that I’m about to leave again, that I’m going to have to say more goodbyes, and that I’m not still prepping to leave the country because that’s largely what my last few months in Austin consisted of. I’m not sure anything but passing time will combat this.
I want to end this blog well, knowing that it might be my last EVER #what ?? But I don’t really know how to do that, I don’t know how to bring succinct and well-worded closure to a year and journey that will shape me for the rest of my life. I saw a lot this year. I learned even more. I helped out where I could, and I was continually helped by others. My relationship with God is so much closer and more clear than it ever has been, and I’m desperate for more. I met so many people, so very many good people that give me hope for this world and God’s people in it. I know I won’t fully understand or be able to process all that the Lord did this year, and that’s ok. I just ask for patience and grace in receiving my messy self, my messy thoughts, my messy words, and my even messier emotions.
Thank you so much for reading any or all of this. It has been an honor to be cared for and followed across the world for so many months. Please stay in touch, hopefully in the next few months I’ll have some more clarity on my place in this world and how I’m going to faithfully serve the Lord and his people.
