If you ask any World Racer, the concept of home becomes quite skewed once you get on the field. As I was listening to The Head and the Heart the other day, the lyrics “you’re already home where you feel loved” played, and it struck a cord with me. In Nepal especially, I kind of realized that I don’t really have the stereotypical view of a home anymore, but then Zim came, and now I find myself here in Zambia, feeling ridiculously homesick for the place I resided for barely 4 weeks. I felt at home because I could walk down the street or into a store and actually know the people I was passing. I felt at home because going to ministry everyday meant seeing our Scripture Union ministry hosts – Caleb, Zet, Vitalis, Johab, Norman – and that meant the best kind of chaos, messing around, and unending laughter. I felt at home because we went to Abraham and Annah’s daughter’s, Kristy, pre – school graduation and it was like watching my little sister walk across the stage. I was home because I was deeply, unconditionally loved by every single person that surrounded me daily. To be completely transparent, it’s been a quick and tough transition into a new ministry and losing what I felt was a huge part of my heart. Instead of sulking though (which I admittedly already did), I’ve decided to share one takeaway from the month that will forever be firmly planted in my heart, no matter how many miles I am from home:
As I wrote in my first blog from Zim, joy abounded there so freely. It was honestly something I never had felt before, and definitely an aspect of the Lord I had not seen in such a large capacity. That being said, last month could very easily have been one of the tougher months for me. I had some stuff going on at (America) home that was extremely difficult being away for and lacking the support system that I was used to (shoutout to Breath of Life though, who were there for me through every step). I was away for my birthday for the first time ever, along with missing two of my brothers’ birthdays, and thanksgiving as well. As I was going through all of that, though, I one day noticed I was “weirdly” not phased by it very much. I’m one who thinks I can do all things through my own strength, without asking for the Lord’s hand in any of it (we can just take a moment here to laugh together at how ridiculous of a thought that is), so it was unusual for me to be okay with what was going on. That thought came and went but now looking back on it, I’m slowly starting to realize that it was actually all a little mixture of divine strength and intervention. I know that I wouldn’t have gotten through any of it without the Lord holding me, but the best part of it is that I actually – for once in my life – allowed Him to. I actually allowed Him to be my father, my support system, and carry my burdens. It’s pretty amazing to reap the benefits of your prayers for strength, endurance, and peace. It’s pretty amazing when one of your teammates gives you a vision of you leaning off of a cliff, the winds from the ocean holding you up, with full trust that the Lord will not let you fall. It’s pretty amazing to walk with the Lord daily. And what freedom…what freedom, to be held in the arms of the Father. What freedom I found in Zimbabwe.
