I have about 20 half-finished blogs saved on my computer. Many of them start this exact same way. I’ve been writing all my life, but I’ve never experienced a writers’ block that’s lasted for nearly half a year. But I’ve decided—forced myself really—that this is going to be the last blog that I start and don’t finish. (So forgive me if it’s terrible.) I keep thinking that I’ve got nothing to say because nothing’s happened to me since I last wrote, but I’ve just realized that I couldn’t be more wrong.

Since my last blog post in July, I have gotten a tattoo, dyed my hair, bought a dog, gotten a nose ring (and removed a nose ring), moved into my first college house, quit my sorority, gotten involved in anti-human trafficking efforts, started painting again, met my great-niece, finished another semester of college, and most significantly: I lost my grandma. Thinking back to the beginning of this semester, and coming home from a summer in Vermont, feels like a lifetime ago. Isn’t it fascinating how drastically things can change in such a short amount of time?

My grandma was my person. She was my second parent, my best friend, and my role model. In the month following her sudden death, I’ve been comforted over and over by her message of simple love. The entire time that she was alive, she stressed to my (loud, overbearing, gigantic, amazing) family that money and material things are insignificant when compared to what we have.

I got food poisoning the night before, and was awake getting sick at 5:00 AM when my mom called and told me. I drove home in a fog with my pup in the back seat and the radio off. When I got to her house, most of my family was there and the scene was surreal. We stayed there most of the day talking and planning and remembering. My uncle, who’s got a knack for beautiful things, read a letter that she left for us in regards to her funeral wishes.

“A funeral can break a person—and for what?”

Those three words are burned into my heart. For what am I doing the things that I am? For what am I allowing what breaks me to break me? I’ve allowed myself to become broken over the last few years. I’ve allowed myself to get sick over money, my appearance, and relationships. And for what?

I’m writing this because I have to. I’m writing this because nothing makes me more uncomfortable than my own vulnerability and weakness. I’m writing this because I can’t talk about it yet.

I changed my mind about the World Race. In the weeks following my grandma’s death, I got scared. If I could lose someone so quickly and without warning, what’s to say it won’t happen again, this time when I’m halfway around the world? This thought spiraled into me convincing myself this was the wrong decision. That I would never be able to afford the trip. So I gave up. I stopped fundraising, stopped reading blogs, stopped trying to get to know my squad, and stopped praying. I guess when my grandma’s life stopped, I tried to stop mine too.

And for what?

I’ve never seen my grandma yell. I’ve never seen her get angry. But I can tell you one thing. If I looked her in the eye and told her I decided not to go on the World Race, I would see that sweet woman yell. Every time I left home for a new adventure- be it West Virginia or Vermont- she would tell me “I don’t want you to leave, but I want you to go.”

I’m going. The World Race has been God’s plan for me long before it was my own. When I stumbled upon this journey almost a year ago, I was sure of that. I was never scared, never doubted my decision, never wondered what I’d be missing back home.

This journey is a scary one. I look at the numbers and feel defeated. I check my donations page and feel hopeless. But I’m not those things. Through Christ, I am a conqueror. Through Christ, I have hope. I’m forcing myself to read blogs and watch videos again; forcing myself to pray and read scripture and talk to squadmates. I even went ahead and purchased my tickets to and from training camp! There’s no turning back now. Rather than scaring me, that statement reassures me.

Life is uncertain. It is surprising and heartbreaking and wonderful. In the upcoming 6 months before launch, I’ve got a lot of preparation to do. I’m sure I’ll hit roadblocks and I’m sure I’ll be surprised by God’s faithfulness. It’s all part of the package.

So I’m doing this. For what? For me. For my growth. For my relationship with God, my understanding of the world, my future. Because as I’ve recently learned, life can change unexpectedly. When I compare where I am a year ago and today, hardly anything is the same. A year from now, as I celebrate Christmas in Vietnam with strangers who will become family, I will look back once again and think about how drastically things have changed.

Support raising is difficult, but as the famous cliche goes, “No one ever promise it would be easy. They just promised it would be worth it.” As we approach Christmas and the hope of a new year, I ask that you consider supporting me prayerfully and financially. Prayers are appreciated and reciprocated, and donations- no matter how small- are what will make this trip a possibility. Please consider sharing my story with friends, colleagues, and family, and know how thankful I am for your support.

There is no longer a fee to donate via credit card, so the easiest way to donate is by clicking “Support Me!” on the left side of this page.

Thank you for reading this difficult post, and thank you always for your support.