home: the place where the family dwells, the traveling stops, the air conditioning works, and the water from the tap is pure enough to drink
I’ll be home sweet home in 16 days. Part of my heart is ready for home. I’m ready to hug my family and catch up with them face to face after being away for 11 months. I’m ready to stop traveling for a bit and sleep in my comfy bed after 6 months on a sleeping pad. I’m ready to eat honey crisp apples and not worry about getting a parasite. I’m ready to take the longest, hottest shower in my life and know the water won’t run out.
But….there’s another part of my heart that’s not ready for home. I will miss my squad that has become family. I will miss the daily deep conversations about the mysteries of God. I will miss attempting to speak Spanish the best I can to my host mom to let her know how much I love her and her family. I will miss experiencing how other cultures worship God. I will miss living on less, but I will be thankful to have a closet full of clothes I can wear when I haven’t found a laundry mat in over a week.
I will miss this whimsical, World Race life.
As I prepare to enter month 12 in America in 16 days, I feel challenged to write down things that I want myself to vividly remember when I am back home. So here they are:
I want to remember the months I went without having wifi and no access to “the real world.” No Instagram, no Facebook, no news updates, no Netflix, no emails….nothing. My life felt so uncluttered during these months. It’s crazy how distracted we can get from our Callings by looking down at our phones. When I get to the end of my life I will never think to myself, “Man, I wish I would have mindlessly scrolled through Instagram more.” I can guarantee you I will wish I would have spent even less time on my phone than I do right now. I don’t want to forget these moments.
I want to remember the countless hours spent around a table with my teammates. Whether we were having our Jesus time in the mornings, drinking coffee, eating a meal together, playing cards, making up funny songs, or watching my friends get their hair cut (shout out to you right now, Daniel)…I want to continue to cherish these sacred moments when I get home. There’s something special about setting down the phones and being fully present with the people around you. I don’t want to forget these moments.
I want to remember how much I had with so little. For the past year I have been able to fit all of my belongings into a backpack. And you know what? I have enough. I don’t have more than I need, and I have never been lacking. I have exactly enough. I’ve realized that I don’t need to own 20 pairs of shoes and have a big closet full of clothes. I may want these things, but I truly don’t need them. When I get home I will have an entirely new outlook with more gratefulness than I’ve ever had before for what I have. God has continually revealed to me that He is the Shepherd that takes good care of His sheep, and His sheep lack nothing (Psalm 23:1). I don’t want to forget these moments.
I want to remember the hilarious nights when we killed creatures in our house (scorpions, huge spiders, lizards, and more spiders). We might have been scared to death, but we somehow managed to get rid of all the creatures and survive. I will laugh when I think back to those funny nights, remembering that God has a sense of humor too. I don’t want to forget these moments.
I want to remember what I felt like eating rice and potatoes for 11 solid months. Feeling tired from the lack of nutrition and bloated from the never-ending servings of carbs. We were always thankful for what we had, but wishing we could see more greens on our plates. I will never take for granted eating fresh fruits and vegetables ever again. I don’t want to forget these moments.
I want to remember the kindness and hospitality our hosts have showered us with. I have never felt more welcome in the homes I have stayed in than I have this year. Our hosts not only opened up their homes to us; they opened up their lives. With tears in their eyes they welcomed us and said, “What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine.” I have lived out Acts 2:42-47, and I pray that I will be able to offer up my home and my life to others in return when I am back in America. I don’t want to forget these moments.
I want to remember the joy, love, and laughter from the orphans we spent a month with in Ethiopia. Running around in the freezing cold while playing soccer as the African sun was setting. Or the time in Vietnam when I taught English to Buddhist co-workers who were eager to know more about Jesus at the end of every class. I want to remember the night in Colombia when we went to feed over 50+ homeless people and remind myself that I can do that in my own city. I found joy in these places, and I don’t want to forget these moments.
The list could surely go on and on. When I think about the World Race, I smile knowing that God always provided immeasurably more in my 11 months overseas. I’ll think of how we all lived great stories this year, and how I will never be the same.
