“It shouldn’t feel like this”
My brain is telling me the same thing over and over as we pull away from A Greater Hope Orphanage.
Truly, I’m a mess. I’m a heap of emotion.
I’m sad because I really, really love it here. I love it so much and so completely, in the way that I could actually make a life here. I could be happy and serve Jesus here. For the first time on the race, I want to stay. I could stay, and I can’t think of good enough reasons I shouldn’t.
But I’m leaving.
That makes me angry, and I’m not a person that gets angry easily. I’m angry that my heart is breaking in the gentle hands of 40 children as we drive off.
I’m angry that I may never see them again.
Angry that I can’t stay this time.
For a second, I’m even angry at the World Race. Angry at an organization that encourages such temporary investment, that gives no option between disengagement and complete relationship-building.
I’m not angry that I loved them. That I’ll love them for a long time, maybe forever.
I’m not angry that I let these scarred, fragile hearts love on mine so completely and without abandon for 22 of my best days.
In my last few, tearful moments before leaving A Greater Hope, I spoke to Roth, a 16 year old girl. I told her how kind and beautiful and smart she is, but then I told her how brave she is. This girl is a warrior. She’s brave in praying the gospel over homes of spiritual warfare. She’s brave in caring for her younger brothers and sisters. I’ve seen her bravery time and time again over the last 22 days, in words and in actions. But as I stand there hugging her goodbye, feeling her tears on my shoulder, I think that the bravest thing she did this month is love me.
Love is vulnerable.
And I don’t know how much you know about vulnerability, but it’s kind of a World Race buzzword. It’s annoying and it hurts and it almost makes me cringe, but it’s the heart of relationship. Of being yourself. It’s also pretty brave if you ask me.
I’ve been reading Brené Brown’s Daring Greatly this month, and I think at this point, at the goodbye, that I’ve been reading it for this exact moment. Brené writes about love as vulnerability,
“Waking up every day and loving someone who may or may not love us back, whose safety we can’t ensure, who may stay in our lives or may leave without a moment’s notice, who may be loyal to the day they die or betray us tomorrow – that’s vulnerability. Love is uncertain. It’s incredibly risky. And loving someone leaves us emotionally exposed. Yes, it’s scary, and yes, we’re open to being hurt, but can you imagine your life without loving or being loved?”
I know these kids are brave because I know that they’re smart. They’re smart enough and experienced enough to know that I’ll leave.
To know that 90% of the pure-intentioned, ‘I’ll come back next year’s never make it back.
To know that there will be a new team coming soon, and that they’ll make the choice to love them just as bravely and fearlessly with the knowledge that another tearful goodbye is in the works.
I got the kindest affirmation from my friend Christi this week. She said that I have “a moldable heart like Jesus.” She said something along the lines of, “We don’t have to wonder whether these kids or this place or our words will affect you because we know they will. You let yourself be influenced.”
I think that’s one of the most beautiful compliments I’ve ever received. I think that it takes bravery to let yourself be influenced, and its riskier than putting up walls. I can tell you I’ve done it both ways on the World Race. I’ve done safe and distant, and I’ve done engaged, present, and completely immersed. The second one hurts more. Sometimes it makes me sad and angry, like it did this time. But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that it’s always worth it.
I don’t want to get too poetic on you, but I think Shakespeare was right. It really is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. The loss doesn’t count for as much when you think about all the things that the love covers. Not only loved, but loved and learned. Known and taught and been changed. Influenced and encouraged, broken down and built up all at once.
7 months down. 7 countries. 7 goodbyes. I guess I should be an expert on attachment issues by now, or maybe even have them myself.
But instead, I’m stronger. I’m changed. I’ve been deeply loved, and I’ve decided to love more deeply back.
Let yourself love well. Be brave. It’s vulnerable, but I dare you to give it a try.
Then come back and try to tell me it wasn’t worth it.
