It’s been about one month since I returned home, and you haven’t heard much from me. Upon the first week of arriving home, I was already making decisions about grad school, car shopping, summer classes, trip itineraries, friendships…All the while still overwhelmed by having more than four options of clothing. Dallas pace sucked me in, and I found myself driving around the metroplex from place to place to place, task to task to task. I knew how to put myself back into the “system” and so I went on auto-pilot. In many ways, it felt like I was ignoring the reality of everything I’d been through and experienced. Honestly, how could I not?
Overall, my re-entry has been easier than I expected. I didn’t have panic attacks in grocery stores, I wasn’t the bitter, critical missionary I feared becoming, and I was able to articulate answers to most questions I was asked. Good.
Subtly, though, a pervasive numbness implanted itself into my heart. Sometimes I would have one silent tear when doing laundry or walking the dog. It mostly didn’t make sense and I didn’t know what I was feeling. All in all, things were fast. Blurry. Not soaking in.
————————————————–
My sending organization, Adventures in Missions, puts on a week-long conference/debrief about one month after return called “Project Searchlight”. I didn’t know exactly what I was signing up for, but I knew a few things:
1) God honors & blesses things set aside for Him. Whether it is money, time, or something else, he can’t help but bless the sacrifices we place on his altar. Even if I got nothing from the sessions (which seemed unlikely), I could be sure God would meet me because I was setting apart time for him.
2) I would likely have some walls built up in my heart that being in my World Race community could help with. In a way, my squadmates from the past year “speak the language” of my experience more closely than many others can, simply because they lived it too.
So I signed up, mapped out a driving route, and showed up about a week ago. I’m glad I did.
I came to have a week of “processing”; instead, I had light shone into my heart. It was a totally unrealistic expectation to assume that one week of putting myself in a different location would suddenly make things click. Human souls aren’t machines and can’t be pushed like buttons.
It only took me two days to unpack, wash, and organize my belongings from the race, but It will likely take me months—years—to unpack, wash, and organize my memories from the race. And now I’m okay with that.
These past few days have been full and tiring but deeply important, too. Sitting with a friend just sharing about where I was at with God. Leading worship and being led in worship. Listening to others’ experiences since coming home. Getting some guidance on healthy relationships, financial wisdom, living overseas. Dancing hard, praying hard, and just sitting before my God.
It’s as if bricks, one at a time, are being pulled away letting some much-needed light in.
And today, that seems enough.
