For the first time on the Race, I found myself saying, “I just want to go home!” There have been times that I have wished to be in another ministry location or doing something else, but this is the first time that I just wanted to go back to America. I’ve discovered that after nine months of such intense traveling I am just tired. I am tired of uncomfortable. I am tired of my whole body hurting from sleeping on floors, bus, and hard beds. I’m tired of spending hours crammed in the back of pick-up trucks and crappy buses. I am tired of wearing filthy clothes (again) because the rain made them impossible to dry. I’m tired of not being able to sit (or even breath) in the bathroom. I’m tired of bugs in my food and my stuff. I’m tired of the simplest things being so difficult.
This morning there was a big part of me wanted to snap my fingers and go back to my old life. Today I really miss it! I miss my family and my friends. I miss my bed and my car. I miss clean bathrooms and hot showers. I miss washers, dryers, and actually clean clothes. I miss couches, real fluffy towels, and Starbucks drive-through. I just miss not having to think about all the little things.
Part of me really wants to go back right now, but part of me knows I can never go back completely. The people and places of this year are forever etched on my heart in a way that I can’t escape.
In the afternoon, as we left the church in Blantyre, we were walking up a hill singing, worshipping, and laughing in the drizzling rain. I looked down in the mud and there was a small piece of children’s clothes sticking out of the dirt. In a moment, I was back. I was there walking in the Killing Fields of the Khmer Rouge. I felt it all come back. I almost started crying in the midst of that joyful procession over the pain of the Cambodian people.
I realized this isn’t going to stop- a million tiny moments will forever stop me in my tracks as I stand frozen in another place unable to stop the memories and the hurt. Even if I return home, I can’t go back. The people and the places of this year are forever a part of my heart. I can’t go back to simple.
Part of me really wants to go back right now, but part of me knows I can never go back completely. The people and places of this year are forever etched on my heart in a way that I can’t escape.
In the afternoon, as we left the church in Blantyre, we were walking up a hill singing, worshipping, and laughing in the drizzling rain. I looked down in the mud and there was a small piece of children’s clothes sticking out of the dirt. In a moment, I was back. I was there walking in the Killing Fields of the Khmer Rouge. I felt it all come back. I almost started crying in the midst of that joyful procession over the pain of the Cambodian people.
I realized this isn’t going to stop- a million tiny moments will forever stop me in my tracks as I stand frozen in another place unable to stop the memories and the hurt. Even if I return home, I can’t go back. The people and the places of this year are forever a part of my heart. I can’t go back to simple.
