Give me a second to reflect.
One year ago, I was holed up in the Vassar College library in Poughkeepsie, New York, cramming for finals and writing the last papers of my college career.
Now, we live at an empty summer camp in Lezhe, Albania, preparing the grounds for this summer’s kids. We are usually outside and, as you can see above, witness to spectacular sunsets from our balcony every single night.
One year ago, I wondered what I would do with all the stuff in my apartment I’d accumulated over four years.
Now, I’m wondering if I could make my pack 5 pounds lighter.
One year ago, I had one currency in my wallet.
Now, I have four.
One year ago, I ate lots of cheddar cheese.
Now, fresh sheep’s milk cheese is served at every meal.
One year ago, I took it for granted that everyone around me knew English.
Now, I take it for granted that I will be using Albanian, English, Italian, and sign language to communicate. Lapses into Spanish and Bulgarian are common and forgivable.
One year ago, I had a choice between like, ten pairs of shoes. Probably more.
Now, four. Definitely no more than four.
One year ago, we were nervous to graduate college.
Now, we’re nervous to live in Africa.
One year ago, we had a shower curtain.
Now, we don’t.
It’s strange to say this, but one year (and a day) ago, in that library, I wrote my very first World Race blog.
Isn’t that strange? It’s been one year.
They say the World Race is 11 months, but it’s longer. Before I put on a backpack, I spent the better part of a year preparing for this trip. That year was just as wonderful and exciting and boring and sad and funny as this year. All of a sudden, my time in the US was limited. I was told to raise $15,500. I needed shots for diseases I’d never heard of. I was going to live with a random group of people I had never met before. The World Race certainly can challenge and empower you, and it all starts when you say yes. So I guess if you count the months since I was accepted, I’ve been “on the Race” for 14 months with only six to go.
Time is strange. I keep track of it on a calendar that Irene, the cook at Remar Orphanage in El Salvador, gave me. I like it because it shows all 12 months at once so you can see the big picture. The big picture reminds you that the months are moving quickly, and even when the days are long and you’re homesick, you’re really not away for that long. Actually, when you’re homesick, the big picture reminds you that you’re really not going back anytime soon. If you’re really homesick and a little whiny, you’ll start counting days until you remember that’s not healthy and you put the calendar down.
I’m saying all this stuff about time because it’s just so strange to think that I’ve been invested in this whole thing for a year now. But I want to shift gears and talk about you, my friends and family. You have also been supporting me for a year now. When I’m homesick or tired I’ll often think of all of you and it’s one of the best things I can think of.
I read a blog a long time ago about a girl on the Race who had to do some hard manual labor. Something really ridiculous, like carrying rocks up mountains or something. She said that it was her hardest time on the Race and she just wanted to quit. But then she thought of her supporters, all those people who had given her love and encouragement and stories and money and gear. They were the ones cheering her on from across an ocean. And the thought of them was enough to keep her going.
And I don’t mean that when I think of my supporters, I feel guilt-tripped into working hard since they sent me here in the first place. It’s a good feeling; I remember that it’s not 41 of us out here alone. I remember all the wonderful friends that are with us in this, and I feel, well, supported. If I have to carry rocks up a mountain, I’ll pretend you are all there cheering me on and I bet that will help.
July 1 is less than two months away, and it is our final fundraising deadline. By July 1, my whole squad needs to be fully funded for the World Race. For me, that only means raising another $1876. Whether you have given before or have just stumbled across this page, I’d like to again invite you to consider making a contribution to my Race or a squadmate’s. Any amount, from any person, is a blessing.
I remember looking at my account last fall when I had $3500 and feeling dismayed. “Everyone who would give already gave. How can that number get 4 times bigger?” I wrote in my journal. But money came in. People gave. Now I need far less than $3500 to finish this thing. That is yet another example of how we do not need to worry. When God sends you somewhere, God gives you what you’ll need. That also goes for donating: when you feel prompted to contribute your time or money, God will make sure you are provided for.
So, supporters, thank you for taking care of me for one year! Thank you for sending me to five countries and counting. Thank you for changing my life and the lives of people we’ve met. And thank you for staying tuned for the next six months and counting. It’s only getting wilder!
