Currently in: Kalamazoo, MI
How was your trip? How has it been being back?
My first week of re-entry was spent on survival mode. I hiked Flatiron in Arizona, the most ridiculous and epic trail I’ve ever been on, and then the Grand Canyon for another three days. I came from Budapest, the most beautiful city I’ve seen, but the views in Arizona were spectacular.
It was worth every sharp plant I fell into, every stumble downhill, every rock I almost rolled my ankle over, every freezing night in a tent, every step uphill with sore quads, every sweat I could muster up (which is normally not a lot)…
You can say it was like the World Race.
With every breathtaking photo that captures the beauty of creation and the Creator that’s shared on Instagram, there are sharp plants and uphill battles aka the not-so-glamorous stories…
Like when you accidentally ate something you shouldn’t have and get diarrhea for days…or maybe worse, when you can’t go at all…
OR
When you arrive in a new country sick because you physically can’t sleep on travel days…
OR
When there’s awkwardness during ministry because of miscommunication or cultural differences, and you just don’t know what to do…
OR
When you’re lying on the floor not able to sleep from the heat and all you can hear are the mice scurrying a few feet away…and then the Khmer wedding music blasting at 4am…
OR
When all you want to do is go for a run by yourself but you can’t…
OR
When conflict erupts within your team, and you want to run away from it all…
There are a myriad of both strenuous and mundane moments behind every beautiful photo. There is brokenness and a lot of space for God to move. Even when we wanted to stop, the path was still there, waiting to lead us to the next spectacular view.
They say it’s not about the destination but about the journey. The photos you saw are just a few stopping points within the journey. The places that offer a glimpse of those awe-inspiring views. The path has been rugged but every foot forward has been worth getting me to where I’m at.
The first few weeks back in America, I found myself observing my oddly familiar surroundings in the new twist of my path, not able to identify my feelings for a long time. And in between the calls to figure out insurance and applying for part-time jobs, the path seemed to be a bit more flat, with those crazy-awesome views being few and far in between.
I’ve been sitting, waiting for the next view, but I know I can’t get there if I don’t walk.
