It’s the middle of the night and I can’t sleep. I have one week left in Las Vegas before I move away for good. I don’t know yet where I will live when the World Race is over. I have life goals and plans I’ll pursue, and although I don’t have exact details right now, I’m confident that something good will pan out because I trust that God will continue to guide my steps. But I’m not planning to live in Las Vegas when I return.
I’ve packed up and stowed away everything I own that isn’t coming on the race with me (AKA 5 boxes of books and some clothes). In a week I’ll fly to South Carolina & Georgia to spend time with my family before I leave for the World Race.
I have been wondering though, how do you pack up a life? I’ve lived in Vegas two months short of 5 years. I’m confronted with the fact that in a week I have to leave the friends who have become like family to me here in Vegas. You never get used to goodbyes, and I’ve been very numb to emotions. I think my heart is bracing itself for the inevitable sorrow.
It’s bittersweet really. I’m positive I will be stunned by the journey I’m about to go on, around the world to share the Gospel and love and serve people, and I’m very excited for that, and I’m excited for the future beyond the trip. But this season of my life in Vegas is over. I’m sure I will visit many times, but it will never be like it has been.
When I moved here, I knew no one. I had “met” my soon-to-be roommate a few times on the phone, as well as the director of the missions organization I served with. Now, it warms my heart to think of all of the amazing people that I have had the privilege of knowing. All those who welcomed me with open arms and have loved me so well.
I have many “mamas” or “aunts” or “big sisters” out here, those women who concern themselves with my well being, pray for me, encourage me, give me wise counsel, show me how to walk out my faith and be a woman of integrity. I have “dads” and “big brothers” who teach me how to fix stuff, ask me if I’ve checked the air on my tires lately, pray for me, counsel me, and who have even made a point to search out the character and intentions of guys that I have dated.
I have had two spiritual mentors who freely share with me their advice and experiences with our unfathomable God. They’ve challenged me and held me accountable to growing in my relationship with Jesus. I am forever grateful. I’ve had the honor of pouring into a few others who are younger Christians, and sharing with them what I know about God and challenging them to grow too. I’ve had a mentor help me specifically in leadership. And I’ve had the missionary couple that I served under for over 4 years who taught me so much about missions and carrying your cross and following God even if it makes sense to no one else. Not to mention all of the practical experience I learned from them.
Then there are my “sisters”, my sisters in Christ. These women have been with me through the thick of it, walking in step with me on a journey through valleys when I thought I was going to give up on following Christ, and up to the pinnacles of mountains, the times that I felt God might actually be opening the Heavens to show me a glimpse of His majesty. These are the women who have let me be a broken mess and have celebrated with me in victories, and through it all have accepted me as I am and challenged me to be more than I ever imagined. They stitch up my heart, and even one time actually stitched up my hand because I was bitten by a dog and she’s a PA at the ER. They care for me deeply.
These people are my family. These people are my home. My family in South Carolina and Georgia are my home. I can’t say that one geographic location is home anymore, it’s the people who love and know me that are my home.
And now it’s time to leave home again. The first time I left home in South Carolina, I was riding on waves of excitement for what God was going to do through me in Las Vegas. Now, I know just how difficult it is to leave everyone you love to go somewhere else and share Christ with others.
It’s incredibly difficult and I don’t want to go through that again. But for me this is part of what it means to be a disciple and to carry your cross. The cross is a mechanism of dying. Jesus says “If you refuse to take up your cross (mechanism of dying) and follow me, you are not worthy of being mine.” Matthew 10:38
I think one of the worst things for me has got to be the gut-wrenching feeling of not having a home.
God wants to use me and my squad as vessels to share the Good News to those who don’t know Jesus in the 10/40 window. There’s no way He can use me there if I hold the home I have here with a white-knuckled fist. I have to let it go and trust that God has used this place, these people and this season to sharpen and grow me, and simply thank Him for the blessing that it has been to know these friends so deeply.
I like to think of it more as a “see you later”, and I believe that the friendships I have here in Vegas will only get better with time. I think there will be a time of grieving and acceptance that things won’t be the exact same, but I know that many of these moms, dads, mentors, brothers, and sisters will be a huge part of my future, wherever I may be, and that makes me happy.
And then after I leave my family here in Vegas, I have to leave my family in South Carolina again. Gut-wrenching times 2. If you think of it, pray for me. It’s a difficult process, there’s no way around it.
Late night thoughts. Maybe I can sleep now. Good night and God bless you!
-Elaine
