I ‘ M H O M E .
The World Race is over and I have now been in the United States for 41 days.
To say I am grateful for what this last year held would be a drastic understatement. I was able to see God move when a sex promoter on the streets of the Red-Light District in Bangkok heard of Him for the first time. I saw Him begin to change the direction of a young life in Lesotho who was being abused by her grandmother. I saw curiosity and life enter the eyes of a man in Vietnam as he asked how He could hear God’s voice. Countless people were healed in Jesus’ name. I held the hand of an elderly woman in Panama as the Lord gave us word after word and picture after picture of encouragement for her, acknowledging how she had been a faithful prayer warrior her entire life. I saw myself and teammate after teammate walk out of fear and into boldness as we preached with words not our own. These are but a few of the many, many ways God met His people over the last 11 months.
So, before I continue with this blog, I need to stop and say thank you.
Thank you to my financial supporters.
Thank you to those who were on their knees in prayer.
Thank you to those that wrote me letters. I read every single one (more than once!). They were breaths of fresh air, laughs, and love when I needed them.
Thank you to those that have faithfully read my ramblings and shared them for God’s glory. Sharing stories of God’s power is incredibly important.
Your investment into this last year was far more than just what you might have read in this blog or seen on Facebook or Instagram. It has had an eternal impact in the Kingdom.
Many people have been asking me, “So, how are you doing? How is it being home?”�
This is, by far, the most difficult question I have been asked in the last 41 days. Yet, it has also become one of my favorites to answer.
While there are many, many thoughts that whirl through my mind at this question (and believe me, there will be future blogs on this topic), there is one aspect of these questions that God has been teaching me a lot about.
And that is home.
Because home is a strange concept these days.
You see, my original plan was to go back to Southern California and move-in temporarily with my parents immediately following the Race.
However, after my dad was let go from his job of almost 30 years the day we launched, plans began to change. My parents told me in the middle of May (Month 10) that due to a continued struggle to find a job, they were selling my childhood home and moving to Little Rock, Arkansas until my dad found a job. It made the most sense for them financially as my dad is part owner of his mother’s house (whom passed away in September, AKA month 1 of the Race) and we have other family present there as well.
Due to my post-Race unemployment and my need to stay somewhere that was rent-free temporarily, this meant that I also would be moving to Little Rock.
As you can imagine, it came as a bit of a shock to hear that I would never again step foot into the house I was raised in. As I was hearing many Racers around me detailing the things they were looking forward to when they got home, I realized that I could no longer look forward to many of those things.
I tried to convince myself that I was totally fine. I could go with the flow.
But then one morning in May, God asked me if I was going to talk to Him about it or not.
I caved.
He took me on a journey of remembering many of the major and beautifully ordinary things that occurred in that house; my sister and brother-in-law’s engagement, the many sleepovers, endless family holidays, baking, eating too many pancakes before soccer games, imagining new worlds in the “fort”� next door, playing with my childhood dog Teddy, icing my knees on the couch after a hard day at dance, and so much more. In this, I was crying out to the Lord for a rock-solid memory and for peace amidst a recognition that I felt “home”�-less. Yes, I had a house to live in post-Race in Little Rock. But, it didn’t feel like home.
The Lord then told me to go back and read Lamentations 3. This chapter is my favorite in Lamentations because of the Truths it declares about the Lord amid uncertainty and suffering as they are in exile. As I was reading, He highlighted verse 24.
“I say to myself, ‘The Lord is my portion; therefore, I will wait for Him.'”�
My portion. Now I had heard that phrase multiple times in my life but to be honest, I couldn’t have really told you what it meant.
Turns out, that back when the Israelites were entering the Promise Land, the land needed to be divided among the 12 nations. Each nation was given a section of land allotted, called their portion. This was to serve as their home, their dwelling place, their place of safety, their inheritance. Now, the priests and Levites were not given any section of land because the Lord was emphasizing to them that He, alone, was their portion and they needed no other.
When the phrase “The Lord is my portion”� is used by the author of Lamentations 3, he was accentuating that amid complete and total exile from their home, he can rest in the fact that his home remains in the Lord alone. Though he has no physical home, he has a safe, dwelling place with God. And that is where he is supposed to remain.
That is where I am called to remain, where we are called to remain.
No matter where I go in this next season or even in future seasons of life, I can walk confidently knowing that the Lord is my portion and in Him, I will always find my home.
