I wrote a blog in November of 2017 called “The Story”, sharing for the first time that I was going on the World Race. I told the stories of the few years of my life before then that led me to the most unlikely place of God asking me to give up a year of my life and become a missionary.
I read back through this post, I read through blogs, old journals, notes on my phone, things that I wrote two, three, four years ago, and it feels like a completely different person. I know that it was me, I can remember every moment of that person with excruciating detail. Yet, I’ve never felt more distant and foreign than where I am now, a 22 year old missionary exactly one month away from reentering life in America.
I didn’t know who I was back then. I had just begun to scratch the surface on a long road of healing. I was so broken, lost, and living my life trapped in so much insecurity. I had my life and I had my faith, but they were independent of each other. I kept trying to force one into the other, rather than allow them to bleed into one. So much of my life felt uncertain, but I knew three things for sure: that God was calling me to the World Race, that He was going to make it happen, and that I wasn’t ever going to be the same.
Now here we are, nearly two years later, and I’m about to begin my last month on this insane journey. It’s hard to believe I’ve been gone for so long, and that I’ve missed so much in the lives of those I love. It’s easy to become distracted and miss what God is doing when I get caught up in this homesickness. But, time and time again God reminds me that this life is not about me. And this year, for the first time, I’ve become thankful for that.
This world is so very broken. As Americans, we’re really good at pointing that out, but not so good at doing something about it. If I’m lucky I’ll get maybe 80-90 years to live in this world. If all I do with it is live my life trying to make something of myself and fill my own cup, what would be the point? I might die happy but my life would be meaningless. Jesus loves us so very much that He gave his life to die for us. And then He gave us two commandments: Love God. Love others. He isn’t a dictator, He doesn’t stand over the earth with a fiery scepter demanding we worship Him and serve our neighbors in His name. Instead, He has grace for the mess we’ve made in the world, and He provides the blueprints for how to fix it: Love God. Love others. Such a simple, often overlooked, overcomplicated, and misunderstood statement has revolutionized my life this year. At the end of the day, at the bottom of everything, it’s really all about love.
Once again, the gospel was simplified for me this month in Rwanda. Nearly everyday my team and I would leave our home, begin our walk to ministry, only to be swarmed by neighborhood kids jumping out of trees, sprinting out of their homes, popping up out of nowhere and racing each other to be the first to hug and high-five the “mzungus.” Often, regardless of what we were able to do for actual ministry throughout the day, these few second long moments were what stood out to me above all. If you’ve never in your life seen a white person, six of them walking past your house is quite the sight. I’ve been called a lot of things in the last ten months, most of them names I would not pick for myself. But when I remember the innocence and joy these tiny Rwandan children carry, “mzungu” becomes my favorite name.
The truth is I’m ready to come home. If it were up to me, I would probably pack it up and say ten months has been more than enough. But I’m humbled to remember that obedience in these next 31 days will look like not just physically remaining here on the field, going through the motions just to count down the days. But obedience will instead be actively fighting homesickness anticipation for what’s next.
I ran cross country for ten years, all the way from elementary through high school. As any runner knows, and what was drilled in my brain for years, is that those last 800 meters are what count. You can run the best race of your life and still lose it all in the last half mile. Or, you can run your race consistently like you have the whole season, but leave everything on the course as you sprint to the finish, saving it all for the end. Looking back on my cross country years, I remember that every single one of my PR’s came from the second method. I’m leaving month ten behind with the finish line in sight. But rather than taking it easy now, I’m praying the Lord helps me to dig in and dig deep, to not miss a second of all that He has in store for us in Uganda.
See you in ONE MONTH, America!
On repeat this month:
Ryan Ellis & Isla Vista Worship- Holy Spirit Come (Live)
Jonas Brothers- Rollercoaster
Keane- The Way I Feel
Maggie Rogers- Dog Years
Hillsong United- As You Find Me (Live)
Lizzo- Juice
