I feel.. grateful. I get to go home to a loving family and a home with everything I need in it. Some people don’t have that luxury.
I feel really taken care of by the Father. He provided over $18,000 for me to travel the world and throughout the entire race He has blessed me financially multiple times. Because occasionally, a racer will find herself in a situation where she literally doesn’t have enough money to buy herself some shampoo.
I feel full. Full of joy, memories, stories, love, experiences.. I poured out myself over and over again this past year, but I still feel so full.
I feel really tired. Like… REALLY really tired. Exhaustion that a good nights sleep will not alleviate. I need time and lots of it. I worked hard for 11 straight months with not a lot of rest.
I feel thirsty. Thirsty for more of God. Thirsty for more countries and continents. Thirsty for more knowledge and wisdom. Thirsty for meaningful conversations. Thirsty for more.
I feel sad. Sad to say goodbye to the world race and the people I did it with. Sad to say goodbye to daily team times and feedback. Sad to say goodbye to unintentional one-on-ones that always turn out to be so much better than planned ones. Sad to leave behind people I met all around the world that now has a tiny part of my heart. Sad to say goodbye to this lifestyle of living.
I feel ready. Ready to take on America. Ready to tell friends and family what I experienced. Ready to get back into school and studying and pursuing my dream of becoming a doctor.
I feel overwhelmed. For the past year I have carried everything I own in a 60L pack. I didn’t have a lot of stuff, but it still felt like so much stuff. I lived as minimalistic as I could, and now I’m going to return home where I have more things than I could possibly imagine and I did nothing to deserve it.
I feel strong. Strong in my identity and what I want out of my life. The Lord has revealed so much to me about myself this past year. I can’t believe I went my whole life not really knowing the deeper desires and issues of my own heart. That will not make sense to anyone unless you went on a year-long soul searching journey; which was not my intention of the race but ended up being a big part of it.
I feel valued. I feel this way because people have intentionally pursued me this year. Lifelong friendships were made because of a loving pursuit. I was fought for, thought about, loved, encouraged, and disciplined. I learned a lot about God’s love for His people through my teammates, squad mates, and leadership.
I feel bitter. I saw a lot of things while traveling the world. I saw poverty and suffering. Like, REAL poverty and suffering. I was actually immersed in it. Families I met in villages, squatter camps, slums, or just living on the side of the road were so joyful. I have never see anything like it. This was all they knew, and they worshipped God and lived life as best as they could, despite their situation. Yet, people back in America can’t handle when a fast food place gets their order wrong. Or we get angry because the AC won’t work and it’s too hot outside. Or their car won’t start. Seriously, go take a walk or something. You’re wasting precious time being upset over something so trivial, when the world is just as beautiful without it.
I feel confident and bold and courageous. Those are my three favorite words. Before I preached in India, I would pray, “Lord, replace my nervousness, fear, and anxiety with boldness, confidence, and courage.” It worked every single time, and there were A LOT of times I had to be bold. I look back on the past 11 months and can’t believe I did some of the things I did. The best part is that those feelings do not go away. The Lord has engraved it into me and I will be bold for the rest of my life. Our days are way too short not to be.
I feel a little bit hurt. Hurt because some of the friends I left behind didn’t reach out to me as much as I expected them to.
I feel scared to enter back into the United States of America. The rest of the world is so different from the states. We really know how to set ourselves apart. I feel scared because I keep thinking I don’t belong there. My perspective on the world has changed so drastically. My values have changed. What’s important to me and what’s not important to me has changed.
I feel like a child. For a while, I am not going to get used to the fact that there will be a dishwasher in my home. It will take a while to remember that I don’t need to tie a rope to two trees in order to hang my clothes out to dry. I don’t need to worry about the temperature of the water I shower in, or how badly my back is going to hurt because of the ground I slept on. I don’t need to stress over whether or not I have electricity. I will get excited over tile floor and granite countertop. I will freak out over stainless steel appliances and a comfortable bed. I am actually going to scream the moment I see a tv in real life. What was normal and standard prior to leaving America is now luxury.
I feel restless because when I return home, I will be staying there. I won’t pack up my things and leave in a few weeks, headed to another country like that’s a normal thing to do. I am staying there and my belongings will stay there and I will have the same bed for more than a week at a time and I will experience permanence for how ever long I want to.
Y’all, I feel so many things. I have never felt this way before and I’m not sure how to handle it. I wish I could articulate my thoughts so everyone who is reading this could understand me, but that’s a really difficult thing to do.
I’m used to really low standards and having only $5 a day for food and people treating me like I’m a celebrity because I’m from America. Over the past year, I have gotten comfortable with really unusual things. This is my normal. My normal is using google translate to figure out what I’m buying at the store. My normal is also living so far from civilization that the only store I can go to is a little shack in the dirt. My normal is walking everywhere or getting on public transportation, hoping the bus goes where I need it, because I don’t own a car. (or, walking miles and miles because you live in a village and there is no such thing as busses). My normal is giving or receiving feedback from people every single day. My normal is having team time and always feeling like something is missing when we don’t have it. My normal is only having 3 outfits to my name. Normal is never understanding anyone because they speak a different language.
My life was flipped upside-down this year, but everything has become so normal. That’s not a bad thing, it just means I really put all of myself in this race. I sat in the midst of a very uncomfortable 11 months and allowed myself to feel it all.
What an adventure.
