Is my own diagnosis.
I have been home from the race for almost three years now now.
And it seems like decades has already gone by.
Three years ago at this time, I was in Nepal praying hardcore with my team.
Battling the demons that would roam around our hallways at night.
Battling with my back not being right.
Battling with my story and who I was.
Where today, I am still battling with demons.
Demons that I feel are around me, wanting to control me, jealous of my relationship with Abba.
Demons that can be the most beautiful, yet most ugly at the same time.
And I see myself creeping back to an old Payton.
The Payton that gets jealous easily, worries about how she dresses and looks, wants to be married as soon as possible.
The Payton that wants to fit in, doesn’t want to be “different”.
The “Payton” to the point where people are worried and now talking to my parents.
I see it happening, yet I don’t try to stop it as I should.
So, the demons are winning.
Right?
Wrong.
I forgot that when I stepped foot on American soil, the war is still going on.
For almost three years, I fought so hard, I broke so many times, yet I always knew in the end, God wins.
And when I stepped on American soil again, I stopped fighting.
I put down my bible, and almost surrendered.
Almost.
Tonight, I remembered that the war is even stronger here,
Because us Westerners just push it aside.
Dust it under the rug.
Cover up the bruises with makeup.
Try not to believe that their is a war.
But, there totally is.
Tonight, I have decided to not surrender.
To the demons, to the vulgar things around us that are so tempting.
Because, I can’t. I won’t.
People are saying that I am changing, and I not sure what they mean.
I work at a barber shop where it is Rock and Roll
Where if you don’t have tattoos, something is wrong.
Where if you don’t curse, or get drunk every night, you aren’t “normal”.
But what is normal?
What do you define normal as?
Because I sure as hell know I am not normal.
I am a daughter of two Southern Baptist parents.
I am the sister to a girl who is completely opposite of me, yet completely the same.
I am the girlfriend of a guy who I have known my whole life, yet never thought we would be forever until two years ago.
I am NOT normal.
I have a story that most people don’t know.
I have a past that I don’t talk about.
Not because I don’t want to, but because nobody has asked.
It has taken me over ten years to figure out who I am,
And what defines me.
And what refines me.
These last few months I have longed to be back on the field again.
To be anywhere around the world, except here.
To be literally walking through mud in the rain, and singing praise to Abba.
And all I can think about is Kia, and Mop, Map, Paul, and Little Man’s smiling faces.
And how I need to be there fighting the battle for them, because they can’t fight it themselves.
And I can’t. But all I can do, is pray.
Even though I long to be back in India, having flag worship with my deaf children.
HEARING them sing and cry out to God every night.
I can’t. All I can do is pray.
And even though I beg God to teleport me back to Malawi,
To share my story with the battered women in the villages, and pray for them to their faces.
Tell them it doesn’t just happen to them.
It happens all around the world.
That they do deserve better.
I can’t. All I can do is pray.
And fight the battle from home.
Because right now, God has called me home.
God has called me to be here, and be with my family.
We are in a war.
Satan is trying to fight, and for most of us, we are letting him win.
Who are you fighting for?
Who are you fighting against?
