Imagine the scene: Rose and I were sitting in a restaurant that is known for its “momos”. They are a doughy, sometimes savory, sometimes sweet, treat that we enjoy a lot here in Nepal. Over chocolate and banana momos, we talked about life, teams, the earthquake, and everything else.
I was hurt, and I wanted to go home. I wanted to hug my family, all those people in the world who love me so incredibly well. I just wanted to understand why I was hurting and in turn know how to deal with it.
I just wanted a place where something in my life was set, where I knew I could fall apart and not seen as weak. I wanted to go home.
I wanted to go to the couch where I know I could curl up with a dog (or three) and cry. I wanted the kitchen where I know I can have hard conversations and tell G&J that I just don’t understand anymore. I wanted to eat a meal with people who have seen me at my worst, and loved me through it. I wanted a place where I could go drive for a few hours and talk to Jesus about why I don’t understand.
I got to thinking: is it the earthquake? The answer seemed simple enough: it wasn’t just the earthquake but all of the emotions of the last 25 days on the World Race. The accident, the first earthquake, team changes, the second earthquake, team struggles, always changing plans, and seemingly nothing that seemed any sort of normal. No part of my life feels like it is normal. Not a single part. Kathmandu was supposed to be normal after the earthquake, but we didn’t find that here following the 2nd quake.
You see, racers are pretty good at getting settled quickly. After a few months on the race, you find yourself going “home” after a day of ministry. Your closet doesn’t resemble my mom’s, but it resembles my 50 closest friends; truly, the closet I have is filled with the clothes of my friends and not mine. “My bed” will only be mine for a month, but for those weeks, its mine. It’s the closest thing to ownership you find on the race.
After the world shook, we wanted to go home to the normal we had just days before the earthquake.
I wanted to tell Jesus what I didn’t know.
- I don’t know why we were entrusted with so much.
- I don’t know why the devil finds himself so fearful of this squad.
- I don’t know why I just couldn’t get a grip on the fact that home will be there when I get home in 7 months.
- I don’t know why I couldn’t live here, right now.
- I don’t know why the destruction is just as hard to see today as it was just a few weeks ago.
- I don’t know why God has us in Nepal, trying to comfort people when we don’t fully understand why earthquakes are a part of his plan.
I realized that wanted to go to a place where it was okay to say,
“There are parts of Jesus and missions that I just don’t understand.”
I was met across that table with a friend, a friend who I’ve come to love much on the race who told me, that it was okay to not be okay. With Rose, it was okay to say, “There are parts of Jesus and missions that I just don’t understand.” She didn’t meet me with scripture, or a place of “Well, you should trust Jesus more.” She met me with exactly the thing I was looking for: “Kristy, I don’t understand either, and it is okay to be where you are today.” And I am in a very similar place, and that’s okay too.
It is okay to tell Jesus that I don’t understand.
- It is okay to look for the water bottle when I think the earth begins to shake again, even though it’s the 20th time today. (We probably have 5-6 aftershocks a day.)
- It is okay to have an escape plan if there was another quake.
- It is okay to cry in front of friends.
- It is okay to tell someone that no, I’m not okay today.
- It is okay to tell people that I need prayers today.
- It is okay to tell people that I really did live through an earthquake.
- It is okay to look at the destruction and cry.
- It is okay to be in a place where today, I am struggling to find purpose in earthquakes.
Its okay to feel like my squad mate Kelley put on her blog yesterday:
“I’ve come to realize that sometimes this go, go, go mentality allows events such as a 7.4 earthquake in Nepal to not seem real. It’s easy to forget that you may need time to sit and think about what you just went through, what you just witnessed, or how it really affected you. I feel like I am strong, that I am not shaken, that I have come to terms with everything…[ish]. And then all of the sudden I find myself sitting on a bed with a squad mate and tears burst out of me like a fire hydrant that just exploded. I don’t know where they came from…well I do…but I don’t.” Read the whole blog HERE . It’s worth your time.
So, as you wake up this Sunday morning, this is where I am. I am okay but I still don’t understand fully. I am not coming home, but staying here in Nepal until we finish up our time here. Continue to pray for our squad and for the Nepali people.
