I think back to the day that I remember that Jesus called me to the nations. I was sitting on the steps of a church in Tecate, Mexico, in my freshman year of high school. I knew, without a doubt, from that moment on that the nations had my name on them. I wandered some from that plan for a season, but now that I find myself in the nations, I find myself reminded of that day.
I remember thinking how cool it would be to call myself a missionary. Surprise, guess what I do now. Yep, I am a missionary. And that feels normal now, too. Like I am doing something that I was designed, almost destined to do.
I’m not perfect. I struggle just like you do. I have days that I just want to GO HOME. I have days that I want the things from home (Just do me and my squad a favor and don’t take Chick-fil-a for granted).
I have days that I can’t imagine doing anything else. There are days that I would rather do anything else.
When I was called to the mission field, I never dreamed that the mission field would be hard. Maybe you laugh with that statement, but its true. I never dreamed that I would have days that I missed home. When I got ready to leave for the Race, I thought that the homesickness thing would be something that other people would experience, but that I had under control. Surprise! I have longed for home on the Race. Not enough to make me consider that I made the wrong choice being on the race, but on the hard days, I just want to go home.
I never dreamed that 7.5 years in Alabama would change me so much. I never dreamed that I would miss the people who I have had a chance to get to know over the last 7.5 years. I never knew that encouragement would come from Texas, Alabama, Maryland, and Washington State. I never dreamed that I would long to get back to the people who decided that they wanted to be my friends, more than anything else.
I have realized that home isn’t a place, but people. Last month, my teammate Cole and I had a long conversation about home, and about how home is people. Cole told me that he didn’t care where He lived as long as it was close to “his people”. I disagreed with Cole initially, but now I know that I owe Cole a sincere apology. Home is the place where you can sit on a couch and chat. Home is a place where you can be yourself; home is a rest from the crazy called this world. Home is the place where you can be yourself. Home is “your people”. It doesn’t matter where a house is located if home is people instead of a place.
Home is the place I long for on the days where the days get tough. But, I am choosing to make home here. To make wherever my shoes land at the end of the day, the place where I am safe to be myself, to laugh with my team (that have so quickly become family to me), and to rest from the crazy that is the world outside. Its inside these walls where tears flow freely, and where I am tell someone exactly how I feel.
Home is the place that I choose to make it, and today, I am choosing to make home my World Race for this season of my life.
