Dear America,
In less than two months, I’ll call you home again. Isn’t that crazy? Remember how long 11 months seemed? And now here we are, unbelievably close to this journey being over.
Time is a funny thing. Sometimes it seems like I have way too much of it, and other times it seems like there should be more. There have been days and weeks and months that have dragged by, and days and weeks and months that I wished would last forever.
I’ve called 9 different countries home already, with 2 more to come. And then I’ll return to you. My home of 21 years. But you know what? This year of 11 homes has changed me more than my 21 with you.
And that scares me. Because I have changed. I’m not the same person that signed up for the Race a year and a half ago, and I’m not the same person that launched in July. Heck, I’m not even the same person I was yesterday. I’ve seen and done and experienced things that you will only ever dream about. And I’ll tell you, your dreams about it are probably wrong.
The world isn’t all glamourous. There are people with real hurts and needs. People that I’ve met and loved. People that I couldn’t even imagine 9 months ago. I’m scared of the bubble that you live in. The desire to turn a blind eye to the hurts; to slap a band-aid over a gaping wound. But here I am. My eyes have been opened, but I’m scared I’m going to put my blinders back on. Life was simpler that way. It didn’t hurt as much.
I’m excited for all the luxuries you have. For different kinds of toilet paper, and whole aisles of cereal, and being able to order food the way I want it. For hot showers, and toilets, and couches. For stocked refrigerators, and cars, and my own bed with clean sheets. But I’m scared of starting to think of them as necessities again. Because they’re not. I’ve seen and lived and survived to tell the tale that they’re not. They’re blessings, and I don’t ever want to think that I’m entitled to them ever again. But it’s going to be so easy to do so. How long is it going to take for a clean pillow case to lose its magic? I hope it never does.
America, you truly are beautiful. You are the land of opportunity, and I am blessed beyond measure to call you home. But you’re the land of abundance. You’re the land of consumerism. You’re the land of stepping on others to get to the top. And that’s not something that I want. I don’t want to step right back in to my old shell of a person simply because I’ve returned to this place. I don’t want this journey to end just because my passport doesn’t get a new stamp each month. I want it to continue on. For this year to be a catalyst. To come home so filled and changed that I begin to influence you rather than the other way around.
Sure, I know where I’ll be when I get home, but I honestly don’t know who I’ll be. Have patience with me. Love me as I struggle to figure out how I fit in again. Support me when I break down and cry, wishing I was out in a village in Africa instead of wherever I am. Forgive me when I judge you, because I know you don’t understand, and it’s not your fault.
Because America, as much as you scare me, I see so much hope and potential and beauty in you. You have the power to influence the kingdom, and I have seen the kingdom. Let’s work together to help Thy Kingdom Come.
Love, Al
