“Tears stream down my face. My heart is breaking so intensely that the rest of body feels its pain as well. My final goodbyes. The last hug I will share with my brothers. The last kiss I will give my little sister. The last laugh I will share with my stepdad. The last quality time I will spend with my mom. The last time I will see them for a year. I slowly step on the shuttle and leave for my gate. My heavy bag – weighing me down – is slipping off my shoulder every twenty seconds. Full of sadness, nostalgia, and frustration, I aggressively readjust it every single time. I am overwhelmed. I can’t breathe. My anxiety is skyrocketing. I have brief moments of remembering that I will not see anyone back home for nine months. My mind replays every goodbye I had to make. I start to tear up again. My heart wants to turn around and run back to my family but my legs keep walking forward. My hands are shakey; every emotion is tinted with uncertainty. My heart beats faster and faster with every step I take. Here we go, I am leaving the United States, leaving everything and everyone behind for a year. This is my life now, away from my life.” (Excerpt from the book I am writing. Shameless self-promo)
How do you prepare for 9 months abroad? How do you pack enough of your favorite face wash??? (Answer: you can’t. you don’t)
I remember sitting by an emergency exit on an averaged sized Delta airplane. I remember sending my last few texts, blasting my music, and resting my head on the side of the plane. I posted cute pictures of my ticket and said “farewell Florida.” I played off my fear by making my persona that of excitement. In all reality, I was excited, but I didn’t feel ready. Could I take my friends and family, could I bring ice water and my bed, could I drag along all my comforts and THEN go and see the world? Could I get my relationship right with Yahweh BEFORE going on a nine month mission trip?
Hesitation. I had a ton of it.
The whole plane ride consisted of me looking through pictures of home, of the people I loved so much. I know this trip isn’t forever, but it wouldn’t be the same once I came back. Essentially, it was gone forever – the life I have grown so accustomed to, that I enjoyed, was done (I am so melodramatic lol). People would change, I knew I was definitely going to. The unknown was bothering me. I knew full and well that nothing would be the same. That reality never sunk in though; it hovered over me tauntingly instead.
Between looking at pictures, listening to nostalgic songs, and crying on and off for 45 minutes, the old man next to me probably thought I was a wreck. He would occasionally glance over from his newspaper, push his vintage-lookin’ glasses down, and look at me as though studying my demeanor. Then he would shake out his newspaper abruptly, shove his glasses back up to normal, and turn away to resume his reading. I felt judged and examined each time he did this. The air around us was clearly filled with tension as he wanted me to stop sniffling and I wanted him to stop staring at me. In all his judgement, he was a wise old man; I was indeed a wreck. In all my emotions, I was annoying; I disturbed his reading.
Launch was a numb few days. I was hurt at the thought of leaving, I was worried that I wouldn’t get the most out of my experience abroad, and I was unable to process the reality of what 9 months looked like. I pushed it al away and tried to pretend like I didn’t care about leaving. Besides the fact that I couldn’t process, I also had my fair share of tears on the way to launch so I had nothing left in me. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, some I haven’t been able to put into words. My mom left Atlanta shortly before I did and that was so hard, but I couldn’t fully comprehend the fact that I wasn’t going to see her in just a few days. So I don’t think I felt the full affect of leaving. Travel days were numb as well. I was just trying to get by the exhaustion and constant state of “I don’t know what’s going on”. It was three days of complete mental chaos, but unprocessed chaos nonetheless. We landed in South Africa, drove 8 hrs. to ESwtatini, and pulled up to the compound. Every possible expectation shattered. Every preconceived notion vanished. It was time to process. It was Yahweh’s turn to take the reins in my life. He didn’t want to waste any time. We hit the ground running. Three months have wrecked my life and created something new and beautiful.
Here is my rollercoaster. I want you to be apart of all the craziness – completely messy, totally vulnerable, brutally honest, interestingly simple, and surprisingly one blog at a time. Stay tuned for this series of my heartbreak, loss, healing, and vulnerability while on the Womrld Race! Welcome to God’s story of working in His daughter’s life.
