It’s been 365 days since my race has ended and I still do not quite have all of the words to describe what my World Race experience was like. I can’t even count the number of times I have sat in front of my computer screen wishing for the right words to come that never do. I’ve found myself getting frustrated over and over again because I want to be able to express my thoughts and for people to know what I’m feeling, it just never happens. Even now as I sit here I find myself struggling writing this; but nevertheless here I am, one whole year later, finally getting myself to find the words.
It sounds cliche to say, but if you haven’t participated in the race yourself, it will be hard to understand completely what I’m going to say, so bear with me if this turns out as a complete mess.
This past year has been a year full of growth, trust, adjustment, and mixed emotions.
I have moved to Dallas and am almost done with my first year at DBU. I work as a childcare worker at First Baptist Dallas and I am a leader in my sorority. I attend one of the most amazing churches ever (check out Upper Room on youtube!!) and I have the B E S T friend group in the world. I’d be lying if I said that life isn’t going my way right now.
It’s crazy to think of how much can change in a year. I’ve endured one of the biggest changes of my life this past year, and I am a completely different person because of it. My mom always told my brothers and I this:
“The days are long, but the years are short.”
I never understand that until I was on my race. There were days that were completely long and completely exhausting; days where I all I wanted was to be at my home where life was comfortable. But then there were days that were absolutely amazing; days where I would cry because I was laughing so hard and days where my teammates and I would adventure around and grow incredibly close.
One of my teammates Maggie and I would do this thing every time we were having a bad day. We would look at each other and say, “Don’t worry, we only have six more months until PVT.” or “Only three more months until we are home!” I honestly wish we hadn’t done that.
My race went by so fast. I’ve never lived 273 days faster.
I let the life that I was living become normal and comfortable. It became normal for me to sleep on the floor in Africa, waking up to mountains and beautiful sunrises, it became normal for me to look out my window and see a volcano erupting, and it became normal for me to have cows walk into my kitchen.
For all future racers, here is my prayer for you: I pray that you don’t let it become normal. I pray you don’t take this life for granted, because despite what you might think, it’s not normal.
When I was on my race I was an 18 year old girl just out of high school. Before this trip the longest I had been away from my parents was 10 days and that was for training camp just a month prior. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, who I was going to grow close with, and what was going to happen to me. All I knew was that I was ready to go on mission for a God that I love, with people who wanted the exact same things as I did. I was excited at the fact that I became a “homeowner” because I owned my very own tent that I would end up hating because it failed at keeping the rain out. I was excited about the fact that I only had two bags to my name and that I would grow out of my girly girl materialistic comfort zone.
As many who have followed my story know, I started this journey in Guatemala living with a group of 13 other girls with big, bubbly personalities. There was the occasional drama, hurt feelings, and arguments, but there was also the amazing laughs, hugs, cuddles, and love.
We’d have dance parties in the kitchen while cooking dinner and then all eat together around our big plastic table and broken chairs. We would do ministry all day and then come back and sit around and watch movies, play games, or have worship nights on the rooftop.
This was the first time in my life I had ever been around this many girls, and although it was a struggle for me to adjust at first, those girls are still my favorite people in the whole entire world and I would give anything to be back in our little Guatemalan house again.
We were blessed with styrofoam bunk beds and a rooftop with a beautiful view of two volcanoes and purple flowers. We were blessed with showers that gave us hot water (unless we touched the faucet because then we’d get electrified, fun fact). We were blessed with a church that was run by Americans who would take care of us and made us feel at home on our most homesick days. We were blessed with a host who, although most times we didn’t understand, cared for us and made ministry very interesting.
Guatemala brought a lot of adjustment and trust for me, and it was filled with beautiful things, beautiful scenery, and beautiful people.
After Guatemala my squad and I headed to South Africa where all 30 of us lived on a base on the outskirts of a city. South Africa was probably my hardest month on the race, and I have a lot of confidence in saying it was probably the hardest for the majority of Gap G. It was month four, we didn’t have wifi unless we paid for it and even then the time difference wasn’t our favorite, and we had to learn to live in peace all 30 of us. There became times when we became angry with our leaders and with each other. There was a lot of spiritual attacks and struggles. However, despite all of our differences and personal struggles, we were able to pull through and become a family, as cheesy as that sounds. We celebrated our first big holiday away from home together, Thanksgiving. We all dressed nice (as nice as racers can get) and had a full American thanksgiving meal prepared for us. We all sat together, talked about what we were thankful for, and appreciated the fact that we were all there together. South Africa was also the place where we discovered how mean monkeys are, especially those with only one hand. There was a time when three of them were hanging on the bars outside of my window trying to get into my room, and many more times when I’d have some type of food with me outside and they’d stare at me until I finally threw it to them.
At the end of our time in South Africa we were given new teams where I then learned again that I would be living with 13 girls again and that we wouldn’t have electricity, beds, transportation, or toilets. When I first heard that I remember calling my mom, super ecstatic at the fact that I would be living the “legit world race life”. Little did I know how much Lesotho would actually impact my life and my heart.
Lesotho was a time of loss and hardship for me. My dad was no longer a pastor at the church my family started, and my family therefore ended up switching churches. My home life as I knew it was completely different. I was angry at God and I was angry that I wasn’t able to be in contact with my family through all of this.
However, the Lord had me just where He wanted me (of course). Lesotho will forever be my favorite place on Earth. It’s where I met the best host parents, Pieter and Keila with whom I still have close contact with. Along with them came their two boys, Jon and Jaime, and their nephew, Ryan. I love those three boys more than I love most things on this earth. They quickly became my little brothers and best friends. We spent our days watching movies, playing monopoly deal and uno, and having intense prank wars. I could talk about them all day, but since this is already long I’ll keep it at that. We also had Momma Faith. Every afternoon I’d help Momma Faith cook dinner and we’d talk about the most random things. She had the most beautiful smile and the most contagious laugh. Lesotho is where I celebrated Christmas, New Years, and my birthday. We had fireworks for all three, and on my birthday my host-mom traveled to South Africa just to get gluten free flour so she could make me tacos, cupcakes, and a cake that fit my allergy restrictions. My host brothers blew up balloons and hung up a poster and made me necklaces that now hang on the rearview mirror of my car. We had donkey races and a game night. Despite the long drop toilets, the lack of good shower water, and the lack of electricity, my most joyous days were spent there in that small little mountainous valley. There is no better word fit for that place than L O V E. There is not one day that I do not think about Lesotho and do not dream about the day that I get to go back.
After this we made our way to Swaziland where we were able to see our parents. It was a dream come true to serve alongside my mom in a country that I adored. That was one of the best weeks of my life.
Next was Cambodia. Our group of 30 spent the first month at a hostel ran by AIM where our main ministry was to evangelise around the city. We were in Siem Reap so we met all kinds of people from all different kinds of places. The heat was something like I’ve never felt before, which says a lot because Texas is H O T. Here we were given new teams, and before I knew it I was in the small little province of Takeo living with a bunch of teenagers at a church base. My childhood dream was always to live in Cambodia and there I was, living with the best people in the world. Sreymom, Koko, Sokhom, Shulang, Boprek, Hong, Sinet, Sinin, Phanit, Sokheng, Likim, Cheng, Joy, and Benan were constantly making my day with their joyous laughs, their jokes, and their love. We’d play soccer and pick mangoes from the trees to eat for snacks. We watched movies and they taught us to ride motos and we even went to the pool. Our host Seth was such a blessing to us and his three kids became like our little siblings. We got to participate in all of the Khmer New Years festivities which included endless water balloon fights, baby powder fights, dance parties, weird foods, and hitting clay pots with a bat.
Our team faced some hardships and troubles, but if you ask any of us we would all say that we came out stronger (What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, am I right?). Saying goodbye to beautiful country of Cambodia and the people in it was one of the hardest things I had to do. But I left knowing with full confidence that I would one day be back.
Lastly, my squad ventured to Thailand where we had our final debrief. This was a week where we spent time with each other in preparation of coming back to America after about a year of being gone. We cried, worshipped, laughed. It was a time of full expectancy of what was to come, but also a time of bittersweetness for what was ending. That week was one of the most cherished weeks that we had.
Saying goodbye to Gap G was hard. I cried for each one of them, wanting so badly to go back. Those people were and will forever hold such a big part of my heart. There has not been one day that has gone by nor will there be one day that goes by where I will not think about and pray for each and every one of them. They each played a role in who I am today, big or small, whether they know it or not.
I can not wait for the day that we will all be together again partying it up like we used to, until then, I have facetime and visits to look forward to.
Since being home I have found myself getting frustrated with how easy it is to adjust back to American life. I hate when I go somewhere that doesn’t have wifi, or if I don’t have as many clothes as I want. I get annoyed when the caf at DBU isn’t pleasing and I haven’t had a “decent” meal in forever. I get frustrated at myself when I realize that I’ve forgotten the names of some of the people that live in these countries that I love so much. First world problems hit you hard and fast. I went from not even having a charged phone for days at a time to looking at social media first thing when I wake up.
I’m not ready to let go of the race yet. I don’t know when I will be, but until then, here I am. Just barely being able to get (most) all of my thoughts out into words. The race has been a big piece of my life that I want to cherish and hold onto for forever.
But this is it. This is the very last post I will ever write on this blog. It’s the longest one, so if you’ve kept reading until now, thank you. It’s a jumbled mess but it’s what I’ve got so far. Maybe in a year from now I’ll be able to better express myself, but who knows. For now, here’s what I got.
This is Luis. He was my host while I was living in Guatemala. This is also the view from my house in Guatemala.
These are my hosts from Lesotho, Pieter his wife Keila, and their two boys Jon and Jaime.
These are my Lesotho little brothers on one of the many occasions where they would take my phone to take selfies. Jon, Ryan, and Jaime, I love you.
MommaFaith and all of hercontagious joy.
Here is my home in Lesotho. I love and miss this little building more than most things.
This is my mom and me in Swaziland during PVT on one of our ministry days.
This is my host in Cambodia, Seth, and his wife Madai.
Here are some of the people in Cambodia that brought lots of laughter and joy into my life. In order from left to right, Joy, Cheng, Phanit, Hong, Sinet, Sokhom, Sreymom, and Shulang. They all very quickly became my best friends.
This is my house in Takeo, Cambodia where we held our school, our church, and all of our events. Those beautiful trees held lots and lots of delicious mangos that we picked on the daily.
