As I hope you’ve all figured out by now I am back in America. I have been here 50 days, if my calculations
are correct. It seems both like an
eternity and a second all at the same time.
In my time at home I’ve already: traveled to another country, attended a
wedding of two of my World Race squad mates, spent two weeks helping train 150
of the next World Racers, joined a kickball team, had my tire explode while
driving on the interstate (I don’t recommend this), applied for some jobs, and
tried to be still and relax. It has been
filled with intense times of doing and equally intense times of
nothingness. I am thankful for both.
(Austin and Monica Anglea’s wedding)
Of course the subject of “what’s next” has come up
repeatedly during this time at home. People
always ask the question awkwardly and timidly (is my emotional frailty that
obvious???) as if I may burst into tears at the mere thought of the
future. If I’m honest the question
doesn’t scare me or upset me but when I have answered with a shrug of the
shoulders and a “who knows” I am not being evasive. I am just as anxious to figure it all out as
you are for the answer.
On the World Race we talked a lot about our dreams and how
to make them a reality. We would focus
on identifying our talents and uncovering our dreams and then how those can
collide with needs of the world. I was
always pumped up after such discussions but was also left wondering just where my
heart, my skills, and my experience could meet the world in its needs. And after 11 months I never really could come
up with a definitive answer.
I would search my brain and the internet for what I would
consider my “dream job.” What did I want to do? Forget all the logistics, I couldn’t even
figure out in all the world where I would take myself if every door were to be
opened. It’s a strange place to find yourself.
(sweet Kedanya- Pader, N. Uganda)
And then one day, I’m not sure how, I stumbled upon it. I found my dream job. It is with a nonprofit that aims to move my
generation from apathy to activism. They
advocate for the children of Northern Uganda. They tell the children’s stories and share
the reality of their lives with the rest of the world. They have programs to educate and support
these children. They are helping
restructure Northern Uganda by raising up a
generation from within who can be that change.
It is unbelievable what they do.
And they had an opening for a communications officer. And I was fully qualified (WHAT!? When does
that happen??). I would live in Uganda. I would have housing provided and would get a
salary (which is HUGE after a year of fundraising). I would get to be the voice of the children
by writing their stories and taking pictures of them. There would be an element
of graphic design. I would also be a
sort of ambassador for anyone who came to visit, taking care of them and all
logistics. All my jobs and skills and passions
not to mention my experiences this past year…everything seemed, for lack of a
better word, perfect.
And yet somewhere between sending off my newly created
resume and getting a call to set up my first interview I started to doubt. Is this job so perfect? How will I make deep
friendships in Uganda? Will there be a community I can connect with
there? Is my heart in it?
So to speed this story up a little bit…I didn’t get the job
and I couldn’t be more relieved. God
knew I couldn’t make the decision to not go if I had been offered the job. I knew I couldn’t make that decision. And now I don’t have to.
This happened for a reason.
I do finally have some specific dreams and tangible ways to define those
dreams. I realized that a huge part of
my heart is still in Uganda
and will forever be, but how that plays into the future I am yet to know. I know I have a desire and gift for writing
and telling stories and I’m so excited to see how this can be used. I know I have a huge desire to help raise up
and empower people to be change agents themselves, in their own lives, in their
communities, in the world. These things
have been inside me all along but now I am able to identify them and communicate
them. So to put it simply, I’ve never
felt more excited about rejection in my whole life.
And so the question still stands, “what’s next?”…and well,
we will see.
