By the time we were standing by the leafy greens, she was there again. She brought a friend that looked older who didn’t have the star-struck eyes.
Three of my team was with me when we visited the fresh farmer’s market across the street from the house we lived in. When we got there we saw a handful of girls in Chacos and nike shorts.
The day before on our way for a home visit, we saw this same group working outside another ministry and we said hello. We found out from someone at AIM that they were a short term team with Adventures in Missions too.
We intentionally started conversation with some of their group when we saw them at the market simply to say hello. The moment we said “We are on the World Race” their eyeballs popped and their expressions lit up. I suddenly felt like I was famous. I could see in their expressions that they wanted to be us. Not because of me but because I was a World Racer. The epic of all epics of international missions in some people’s eyes. I mean it’s pretty amazing, don’t get me wrong.
We said goodbye and continued shopping for our groceries. A few minutes later one of the girls brought her friend over who was an alumni World Racer and all the girls circled around us.
“How long do you go without washing your hair?”
“What’s one thing you brought you are grateful the most for?”
It seemed like every word that tumbled out of our mouths was gold to them. I didn’t mind giving advice or encouraging them with our experiences but I didn’t expect to be viewed as a celebrity. I’m just Ashlyn. No glitz, no glamour. I normally wash my hair every three days and a Kavu knockoff was my favorite thing I brought.
This interaction bothered me for two main reasons. Not because I was in the spotlight but because their perception of me didn’t have anything to do with me. It had to do with the presumptions of what the World Race looks like. Second reason is because I felt a blip of fear that I would be looked at the same way when I returned home.
There won’t be sparkles or puffs of glitter surrounding the air around me as I step off the plane in Wichita, KS. There’s no ultimate holiness that I carry that I was granted serving in ministries around the world. You won’t be blinded by my perfection.
It will be me in all my human frailty and ugliness walking off my final plane of the year. I’m still a person marred with imperfections and certain insecurities.
Looking back on this journey, I’ve grown and been stretched by the Lord. He’s asked me to do difficult things and continued to push me in spiritual leadership. There truly are new and transformed pieces of me that only have come through the refinement of the Holy Spirit.
I’ve met hundreds of people from multiple cultures. There’s handfuls and handfuls of stories of God in their different lives and stories of what He did right in front of me. I’ve experienced the darkness of spiritual warfare heavy in the atmosphere. And I want to tell you all about those things.
But please don’t look at me as if I’m a celebrity to snap pictures with. I’m sure not, that’s a little extreme, but hopefully you understand my point. I’ve changed but I’m still just like you.
I don’t say this because I feel bitter or even boastful. I share this because of anxiousness of how my friends and family will possibly perceive me differently after this year. That their expectations will be impossible for me to match.
As a friend of mine told me in Panama, “At first I was intimidated by you. You seemed to have it all together. But then one day you accidentally tooted in the hammock in the living room with everyone around and I realized you don’t have it all together. You’re still a little messy.”
Ending on month 11, I’ll be coming home as someone who still toots by accident. Or can be socially awkward in conversations or will lack confidence some days. I still don’t have it all together but I absolutely love Jesus. He has molded and shaped me more and more this year. This hasn’t honestly been a trip for me as much as a piece of my life.
I’ll be coming home in 15 days! WHAT. Just as much as you want to hear about my last year, I want to know about yours. I’ve traveled the world and partnered with different ministries for a year but you’ve possibly brought a sweet child into this world or discovered a new passion. Or maybe it’s been a heartbreaking, difficult year and you’ve lost someone or you feel purposeless. I want to be there, I want to hear your stories too. I may not be the only one that has changed.
