After being home for two months, I am finally beginning to (sorta, kinda, I-still-have-a-long-way-to-go) hit something of a stride in life here in America.
My last blog probably wasn’t exactly the sweetest, most uplifting read you ran across over the holidays. I have found that the only people who really “get” most of what I say about re-entry are my squad mates. Either way, I am so glad to report that my spirits have lifted considerably.
Before the Race, we constantly heard that we would be a “different person” afterwards, and probably the most shocking part of being home has been how true this has been. All deep, philosophical and spiritual talk aside, I actually literally have felt at times like an entirely different person. Once beginning “life as usual” here at home, I felt like a complete stranger in a life that I once knew, as if I were suddenly trying to figure out how to live the life of someone I had once been casual friends with several years ago.
Suffice it to say that even if it isn’t obvious to everyone around me, the World Race changed me deeply in a way that even I don’t understand.
A weird paradox exists inside of me now that I never really escape.
My heart is about to burst with gratitude over things that I always took for granted. I literally mutter “Oh, thank you Jesus!” every time I get in a hot shower after a year of cold bucket showers, and I don’t even have to try and ration out my shampoo (which also used to act as body wash, face wash, and laundry detergent at times) until the next time we go into “town.”
The washing machine is like a magical toy in which I can place anything made of…well, anything, as far as I can tell, and have it come out clean and fresh-smelling. Loofahs, make-up bags, shoes, rugs, shower curtains…I’m tellin ya, you can put all sorts of stuff in there.
Despite my continued disapproval of our lack of good public transportation options in Charlotte, I still am thrilled that I have a car that I can jump into and go anywhere, anytime. I definitely missed that independence of driving all over town in my little blue buggy.
Clothes fit properly and are unavoidably trendy, food is rich in flavor and has endless variety, and having wifi everywhere puts the world at my fingertips.
Having made it through my “everything here is meaningless” transitional phase, I am now able to appreciate and soak up these blessings more than I ever have. I even fear that I have hit a borderline obsession with my bed…a big, soft, fluffy cloud that envelopes me every night when I sleep? Don’t mind if I do!
But the flip side of said paradox is that my perspective on life has been so radically altered that none of these cozy things actually hold any real value or meaning for me anymore.
I can put on a stylish outfit and jump in my reliable car and go buy overpriced food to try a new recipe (thanks, Pinterest)…
…but the feeling of doing those things doesn’t even begin to compare to how I felt holding my favorite disabled baby girl in the orphanage in India, or how it felt to sit in the dirt and color with street kids in Kenya, or how it felt to provide nursing care to a sick elderly woman in the slums of Honduras.
And, for the record, open-air, fresh-food, reasonably priced markets are way more desirable than the shopping centers and grocery stores we frequent in the States.
The market we frequented in Rwanda.
I learned so, so many lessons on the Race, and God was released from the box I had been unintentionally keeping Him in. The resulting sense of responsibility to actually live out my faith in a real way makes me actually panic at the idea of living a life that focuses on my own comfort and happiness rather than on being Jesus to people.
Now, obviously, these two ideas are not mutually exclusive, and this is the balance that Jesus is teaching me.
I can wear a new sun dress, dancing around to the new country hit and support an African girl for school; I can have a 401K and insurance and support missionaries that are still overseas and don’t have such luxuries; I can go to the gym and buy mascara at Target and lead the outreach and ministry team in my church group.
Very, very slowly I am learning how to bring my World Race experiences and lessons “home.” It is still hard and I have a long way to go, but God is teaching me to have more grace for myself as I recognize that I am responsible for being faithful in each moment of each day, and it is not my job to “save the world.” With careful balance and faithful stewardship, it is possible to have a healthy perspective on the American life as well.
The American workforce feels like a fantasy land compared to the daily work of just living life that many people I met in the world deal with each day. I am grateful and excited to be part of a team of people that is caring for the sick in a modern, advanced hospital. My mind is blown by how good I have it as a nurse at my hospital.
Thank you for your grace in understanding my writer’s block and lack of blogs, as I haven’t known how to express most of my feelings since being home. I am hoping to share with you all some of the lessons I learned on the trip in the near future.
Better sign off now…my cozy bed awaits to prepare me for a day of eating mulitgrain oatmeal for breakfast, driving my little blue buggy to work, and being Jesus to care for the sick in my own city.
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow.
Moreover, when God gives any man wealth and possessions, and enables him to enjoy them, to accept his lot and be happy in his work–this is a gift of God. Ecclesiastes 5:19
On the beach in Nicaragua at sunset.
Thanks to Pinterest for all of the non-Race pictures.
