The morning I left for the Race (exactly 320 days ago), I wrote this quote in a blog: “I believe if Jesus calls me to get out of the boat, He is going to be there to help me walk on the water. If I start to sink, which sometimes I do, He’ll reach His hand down and He’ll lift me up” (Joyce Meyer). At that point, going on the Race was me getting out of the boat… me taking a step of faith into the waves of what was unknown and trusting Jesus to help me. But now, this seems more fitting for the end because, believe it or not, going home requires even more trust. For eleven months now, my “boat” has been the Race. It’s been beautiful places and incredible experiences. It’s been a lifestyle of ministry and a great journey of growth. I feel safe inside this boat because I’ve grown comfortable here, it’s what I’m used to, and I’m surrounded by the realest, most loving community I’ve ever been part of. But as we’re about to board the last leg of our flight home, Jesus has called me once again to get out of the boat… to step into what is unknown and walk towards Him with a trusting heart.
The end of this Race is the greatest example of “bittersweet” I’ve ever felt. It’s bitter because these have been the most incredible and life-changing months of my life and I don’t want them to be over. Because this experience is one I dreamed of for years without realizing it and I don’t want it to end. Because the idea of leaving the people I’ve spent 24/7 with for the past eleven months actually makes me cry; no where else have I met strangers who so quickly became friends, who so quickly became and will forever be family. But it’s also sweet because the friends and family I left behind are waiting for me back home. I’ve dreamed of this reunion for eleven months, and I’m so excited to see them.
Are there fears in coming home? Absolutely. I’m afraid of the transition that might come as I step back into a world that is mostly the same while I’ve changed so much, because I don’t just want to “fit back in” to the space I filled before. I’m afraid of people not understanding this past year, even though it won’t be their fault. Of going anywhere by myself since we’ve had the buddy system rule for eleven months and I don’t even remember what it’s like to be alone. Of being in a grocery store and having so many choices that my brain can’t figure out what to do. Of forgetting how to match my clothes and not being able to wear the same outfit for five straight days without judgement. I’m afraid of waking up and not seeing my teammates when I roll over. Of now having to find a Christian community like this one because I’ve realized it’s something I absolutely need and didn’t have before the Race. I’m afraid of forgetting what I’ve learned on this journey and not living out all the things God has taught me. And I could go on… But sometimes a little fear is good because it reminds us that we need God, and it gives us an opportunity to have courage as we rely on His strength. So instead of sitting in this fear and focusing on the bitter part of this “bittersweet,” I’m choosing to see coming home as yet another adventure and opportunity.
Because here’s the thing… the World Race is not going to be the highlight of my life; it might be to this point, but better things are still coming. There came a time quite a few months ago when I stopped romanticizing this journey and began to see it instead as life. It’s natural to hear about an experience like this and build it up to be something it isn’t. When I signed up, I imagined this great adventure where I’d be living a dream and changing the world every day. Many people back home still see it this way. But in reality, it’s not. It isn’t the greatest vacation of my life; in fact, it’s not a vacation at all. It isn’t a much-needed break from our normal lives that began in September and ends when we get back to America. It’s not a trip where every second is filled with adventure and miracles. And we actually aren’t superheroes saving the world. Of course there have been many incredible moments, and I’m so thankful for each one. More commonly though, there were simple, everyday moments that I’ve just learned to see as incredible. If this was just a trip that happened and was over, I’d have a great reason to be sad right now. But the reality is that this was simply a year of my life lived in different places. It was an incredible year, but it was just life, and this year of my life will lead into the next year as it always has. This transition isn’t about jumping from one phase of life to the next; it’s about merging two phases together… taking what I’ve learned from the Race and integrating it into my life after the Race.
Through this journey, God has taught me so much. He has challenged me, deepened my faith, shaped my character, put a calling on my heart, and grown me in ways I never would have imagined would happen in one year. And the best part is that it’s not ending now. It’s just the Race that’s ending, not life and not this beautiful journey. I have seen example after example this year of God taking care of us. He has been with us every moment of this year in each place we’ve been, and He’ll be with us when we are home too. He directed our footsteps all around the world, and who am I to think I’ll be walking alone now that the Race is over? We don’t have to fear this transition because just as God called us to this journey, He has also called us home, and He will continue to guide us into the plans He has for our lives.
God has given me so many blessings this year, but one of the greatest is each of YOU who have so faithfully supported me. Whether you did so financially, through prayers, by sending me messages, or reading my blogs, I need you to know how much I appreciate each and every one of you. Your love and encouragement have strengthened me and meant more to me than you will know… so from the bottom of my heart, thank you. As I’m coming back home, I need to ask you for one more thing: grace. Please understand that the person who left a year ago isn’t the same person who is coming home, and I don’t know what this transition will look like; it might be easy, it might be hard, it might take time. Please be patient when I struggle to put this year into words. I really do want to share it with you, but words may not do it justice. And please know that I am excited to be home and see you, even if it doesn’t seem like it. It’s just a big transition, and my heart is processing a lot of feelings and experiences at once.
I have been humbled many times this year that God picked me for this journey, that He led me so faithfully and chose to work through me. He changed me more than I could have even hoped to change the world. As I return home, I’m excited to see what’s next! I’m stepping out of the boat and trusting Jesus to help me… because He never, ever fails.
Thank you all for your love and support! See you soon!
(Picture: Table Mountain overlooking the ocean in CapeTown, South Africa!)
