We recently got the date of when we are flying back to the States. It was hard news because it means this incredible journey that I began 10 months ago is starting to come to a close. I have to think about integrating myself back into the world back home. A world that I no longer feel quite so sure about. It involves leaving the people that I now call family. It requires me to be alone for the first time in 11 months. It requires me to adhere to the rules and regulations of my own culture. Rules and regulations that I feel I no longer fit into.
I can still remember the Thursday I stepped on the plane to head off on my journey. No matter how scared I was about the next year, there was no turning back. It was a done deal. The only way out then was to push forward. I struggled with what I was leaving behind. I was leaving behind those who already loved me. I was leaving behind everything that felt comfortable. I was leaving behind a life where I flourished.
After idly standing by for our flight to Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras, I started to get anxious. However as I took my seat on the plane my heart was immediately soothed. A calming peace came over me and I was able to relax for the first time in over a year. It was the sound of a foreign language.
I was reminded of when I came back from Zambia the first time, I distinctly remember the plane ride from South Africa to Washington DC. A flight full of mostly Americans, and for the first time in almost 9 weeks I was able to understand what was happening around me. And I did not like it. In fact I hated it.
There is simply something soothing about language barriers when doing the Lord’s work. I guess it is because through those barriers you can hear the Lord’s voice much better. You can feel and see Him working even though neither party really knows the depth of what the other is saying. It is the Holy Spirit that relays the message, not the persons involved.
For the past 9 months I have lived simply by the means of that same spirit. Living every moment in a position to hear the Lord clearly and react. In the States, I was determined to make things happen by my OWN hands. Yet in these short months I have learned to let go, and to just live. To take the time to pray for the lady begging outside of the market. To sit in a hammock and simply enjoy the presence and creation of the One who created it. To look completely stupid in the name of making some kids laugh and well lets face it, your squad mates too.
I have learned to live life simply and fully. And that’s why I am afraid to come home. Because I had forgotten that before the Race. I forgot to live life. I forgot about the wonder of the kingdom, and how to tune into His majesty.
But here is the interesting part about what I forgot. The same God that I have seen move so powerfully in the last 10 months IS THE SAME GOD THAT MOVES IN THE STATES. He is just as much present there as He is here, in Cambodia. He is just as powerful there or anywhere as He is here. The kingdom is there. It is also here. It is everywhere. And every day at any time we have the opportunity to watch Him bring it to life. The same Spirit that calls people to work as doctors or teachers is the same Spirit that calls missionaries into the slums of Cambodia. Because the kingdom is so much more than just a place, it is our heartbeat. It is the heartbeat of those who are redeemed. We are to shine His light in ALL places. For me, it shouldn’t just be in the one year where I travel the world or in the third world countries, but at home too!
I forgot what being a missionary was. But now I realize that I do not need to be afraid because as long as a serve Him faithfully, I can serve Him anywhere.
