I had no idea that 5 months after saying goodbye to my life in America that I would have such a longing for the routine, the friends, the family, the “normal” things of home. I knew I would really miss certain aspects but the loss of normalcy is what gets me the most. Things that should not be normal have somehow become normal on the Race.
Normal is hand washing clothes each week and having it all dry stiff.
Normal is eating rice and noodles for every meal.
Normal is sleeping on a pool floaty for the past 4 months.
Normal is not taking a hot shower in 2 months.
Normal is saying goodbye to a culture, a language, and people you’ve fallen in love with each month, knowing that the next time you see them will be in heaven.
Normal is smelling your clothes, not to see if they stink [because they always do], but to see just how bad they do smell and just how offensive it may be to wear them again.
Normal is having hard conversations with your teammates almost every day.
Normal is carrying toilet paper with you everywhere because apparently the rest of the world doesn’t see the importance of it.
And just when “normal” becomes normal, we are packing up our bags for the millionth time and are headed to the next place.
It’s hard. And it does not always look like it does on Instagram, Facebook, and Vimeo. The highlights are really good and worth sharing with the world. But what’s not pictured are the wild dogs who fight all night, the mouse you sleep with, the wifi that won’t let you send one message, the sketchy doctors visits, the countless tears that are shed, the awkward cultural differences and the reality that you haven’t been alone for 5 months.
I had no idea this is what the journey would look like. But I suppose that is why we are all told to not have expectations.
But hear me out…I don’t have an ounce of doubt that this is the journey I’m suppose to be on.
Because if I wasn’t here I wouldn’t be learning what true grace looks like for people that are hard to get along with. I wouldn’t be finding out that who I am is not defined by anyone expect Jesus. I wouldn’t realize how simple life can be when we take away the pressure we put on ourselves to be something we’re not. I wouldn’t know that life doesn’t have to feel normal or not normal for it to be filled with the fruits of God’s spirit.
Life with Jesus, whether in a third world country or a first world country, is so much better than anything else. It’s worth the tears. It’s worth the dirty hair. It’s worth wearing the same 3 outfits.
Life with Jesus is just worth it.
