I knew that this day was inevitable, that I would find myself staring before “Document1” in an attempt to replace what’s in my head with words. And although I want to make my words eloquent and flow from one to the other with grace, I can’t seem to really do so. I find that the core of my being is desiring simplicity at this point, a freedom from complexity that I’m surprisingly unwilling to escape.
I’m finding that I’m homesick – and it’ such a strange thought to flit through my head considering that I’m back in America, back in Kansas, back in Wichita, and surrounded by everything of my old life. I say “old life” and don’t mean it offensively. I say it out of love because as I look around and take everything in with each breath, I realize that this isn’t my home anymore.
And it’s moments like these that you realize where home really is. It’s more than a local and it’s more than a person. Frankly, it’s more than a community. It’s so much larger than all of that and I haven’t quite figured it out.
Being back in America hasn’t been as rough as I anticipated it to be. I thought that it would be a lot more difficult to transition back in, but it wasn’t. I thought that readjusting my sleep patterns would be hard, but I’ve found that the softness of my bed sucks me into a sweet slumber everytime I lay down. And I thought that I would have problems standing in the middle of Walmart, but the one-stop-shop brought me more joy than it did heartache.
What’s been the most difficult thing besides homesickness?
The American attitude.
It’s interesting how such a thing can be flushed out of a person’s life. Everyone here has rights, expectations, and entitlements. When they don’t get their way – it’s not their fault, it’s someone else’s, because let’s face it: American’s hate taking responsibility for themselves. I mean it out of love, but it’s true. In fact, I noticed it on the plane back to the States. A lady got incredibly offended that one of the girls’ bags brushed against her arm.
C’mon, America – that’s just pathetic!
And so the hardest part thusfar is extending as much grace as I have in my bones to these people that are highly offendable, that have unrealistic self-ascribed rights, entitlements, and expectations… all because they’re an American.
I miss my World Race family, but I’ve also been hearing incredible stories of how God’s moving here back home through their lives. I’m going to spend the next few weeks trying to sort through this years’ memories. I plan on blogging more of them than what you think. It’s a lot easier to do this thing now, to steal away time on a computer and access the internet. Forgotten memories shall be shared – no worries.
Thank you for making my year amazing and keep reading my blog. I’m not done with this journey… it’s only going to get better!
