Dear Month 11,
You have come so fast. I’m so torn in my emotions. I’m excited to return to the States, but I’m bummed this journey is ending. There were some days when I would have traded the entire contents of my pack for a ticket home. On most days, though, I wouldn’t have traded anything in the world for the places I’ve seen, the moments I’ve shared, the things I’ve experienced.
Dear Re-entry,
I’ve heard rumors that you can be intense and overwhelming. I have heard stories of people having breakdowns in the cereal aisle because there are too many choices and the kids they just left barely have rice to eat. Please go easy on me. Give me grace, time to process, and stable emotions. Help me integrate the things I have learned and clearly communicate with those who are willing to hear the good, the bad, and the real ugly.
Dear Thermarest,
Congratulations! You have made it to the end of the race without popping. I’m so proud of you! Thanks for being the most comfortable inflatable piece of plastic I’ve slept on all year.
Dear Moses,
You have been my favorite contact in Africa. Thank you for finding amazing ministries for us to be a part of. Thank you for relating to us so well. I’ll be sure to share with my dad your mutual love for Jack Bower.
Dear Widow’s Ministry,
I am going to be sad leaving your ministry, but know that we will continue to pray for you. We will tell others of the testimonies we heard and pray that God will continue to give you strength and encouragement.
Dear Adventure,
I really like you. I really like what we have going, and I feel like I can never get enough of you. I’d really like to keep seeing you. What do you say we catch up in some new places, maybe stateside?
Dear Wi-Fi,
You are impossible to find. Paying 7 kwacha a minute is pretty steep. Can we go back to the days of high speed and free with a pumpkin spice latte?
Dear Trader Joes,
I think I just might cry when I walk into your doors, or go into a food-induced comma shortly after leaving your doors.
Dear Chipotle,
Endless lunch dates when I get back? On you? That would be freaking sweet seeing that I’ve been unemployed for the past year.
Dear Normal Routine,
I don’t even know you anymore. I don’t even know what you look like. Can you remind me of how things used to be, and be open to how I’ve envisioned things looking like moving forward?
Dear supporters,
If you feel like sending a little love in the form of gift cards for things like gas, real conditioner, and food for when I return, I wouldn’t hate it. After all, unemployed missionaries need to eat too, and I’m sure as heck gonna need a shower and brillow pad.
My e-mail address is [email protected] if you should feel so inclined.
Love,
ASH
