In 12 short days, my feet will walk on the ground of my wild and wonderful West Virginia for the first time in almost a year. I’ll finally hug my parents, cry in the arms of my best friends, shower without shoes on, sleep in my princess bed, have traffic laws to obey, watch ESPN in English, and eat meals that don’t involve rice and beans. For the last two months I’ve regularly daydreamed what it will be like; what will it be like to fly over the mountains I’ve known my whole life, to walk off a plane into Yeager Airport, to claim my oversized airporter for the last time, and to begin the search for “Welcome Home” signs from my family and friends? I’ve imagined the feeling that I’ll get when I first see them, what will be rushing through my mind in the seconds between seeing them and embracing them, how the first hugs in 11 months will feel. What will be the first things we say? Will there even be words to fit the moment? Or will we simply hold each other in silent understanding?
Eleven months ago, my mind was also in a constant state of wonder; what will it be like to step on foreign soil for the first time? Will I see the Lord perform miracles on the Race? What will we eat? Where will we sleep? How the heck am I going to stay away from the ones I love for so long? Can I even really do this? Then, it began. Our long trek around the world began in the contrasts of the joyful yet dark Africa, a land I immediately connected with. Then we continued on to an extremely diverse Asia, a sophisticated and developed Europe, and finally the fun and carefree Central America.
And now, here I am at the end of my World Race. I’ve seen 17 countries in the last 11 months, encountered the Holy Spirit in new ways, been romanced and awestruck by my Creator, and lived alongside people all over the globe who serve the same huge and amazing God I do. I’ve persevered when I thought I couldn’t make it, literally stood on top of the world and gazed at seemingly unending landscapes, and, most importantly, fallen more deeply in love with my sweet Savior.
There have been days where I thought it would never end and there have been days where I wanted it to never end. Looking back, it all seems incredibly surreal.
Sometimes I find myself wondering: Did I dream it?
Was it a reality? Did all the things I’ve experienced, touched, smelled, struggled with, watched, felt, thought, mourned, eaten, prayed, questioned, and discovered actually happen? Are all the people I’ve seen, hugged, encouraged, served, loved, and laughed with real people with real lives?
I hope you’re not questioning my sanity. It’s just that as the truth is settling in that in a mere 12 days this season of life will be over, it’s so hard to believe that I could really have been this blessed and that I really could have been this crazy. It’s so hard to believe that God’s grace and love have been so lavished upon me as to grant me this experience that I have to slightly wonder whether or not I’m going to wake up all of a sudden and realize that I’ve made it all up in my mind. I mean really, WHO DOES THIS?!
I’m going to be honest with you-I’m really scared about what day 13 and beyond will bring. For one, because coming home means facing an unknown future. Most of life on the Race is unknown itself, but at least I could be pretty sure that I was in this until August and the next step wouldn’t come until then. I guess I thought that doing this would help me “find myself” or whatever cliché thing you want to call it. That’s not why I came, but I definitely expected to have a clear-cut direction for my life when I was about to return home. I thought maybe my life’s calling would magically drop from the sky and I’d be ready to face whatever future the Lord had shown me He had in store for me. Shoot, maybe I even thought God would really shock us all and I’d meet my husband while I was gone! I don't know. What I didn’t expect was to be more confused than when I left and I think that’s where I stand now.
Although this year and all that it has encompassed has not in itself changed me, the Lord certainly has. However, with coming home also comes being around people who have not seen these transformations take place, who didn’t go through the things that I’ve gone through, who won’t be able to understand, who may not see the changes or may feel like they don’t even know me anymore. That, in part, is probably true because I can say in confidence that I’m not the same girl I was when I said "see ya later" eleven months ago. But my fear is not of being misunderstood; my fear is that these conflicts may cause me to question this year, not in an, “Oh my gosh I can’t believe this is really my life because it’s hard but it’s so awesome” way, but really question it in a “No one else around me is affirming or relating to (this experience), (this belief), (this change). Did (this experience) actually happen? Do I really hold (this belief)? Has there really been (this change) in me?” way. That’s the last place I want to be when this is over.
So, if you know me or know another racer, please do us a favor: take the time to get to know the people that we’ve become in the last year and confirm and affirm the changes you can see that God has done in us. Please don’t grow frustrated with us when you can’t relate to the things we’ve undergone and don’t shoot down experiences that are hard for you to understand or believe. Sometimes the things we describe are going to seem absolutely outrageous to you and sometimes the whole thing is going to seem unreal to us. But the fact remains that it wasn’t a dream. It was real. All of it. Even the most bizarre stories we’ll tell you.
See you in 12 days America! (:
