As I sat in the Lilongwe {Malawi} airport waiting for my final trip home I anticipated the feelings of nausea or anxiety or maybe even excitement, but an unexpected feeling came about. I sat and just reflected.
As my computer sat on my lap, my feet peeked out from the top of my beat-up Dell. They were perched on the chairs in front of me and my eyes stopped on them while still reflecting. 17 months ago these slender size 10 feet never stepped outside of the United States. Over the course of the last year and a half these feet have traveled to 17 different countries.
They’ve trekked up to Everest basecamp some 90 miles in 11 days and Cerro Negro just to blast down the side of an active volcano. They’ve briefly steered a surf board over the white water in several countries as well as chased kids around under African sun playing a game I never fully understood. They’ve been well maintained in Asia as the nail care is sublime and inexpensive. They’ve received intricate henna designs as well as henna from untrained Americans who are learning solidarity. They’ve been stomped on, peed on, beat up and bruised, cut, burned and swollen. Even though I am undeserving, they’ve been washed and prayed over by the people I choose to call my family. They’ve been strapped into my sandals for travel days and seen many airport floors across the world. They’ve carried me from hut to hut sharing the story God is still scribing for me. They’ve witnessed laughter so intense liquid is released in places toilets should only see. They’ve witnessed teammates and locals walk through freedom from bondage and darkness. They’ve witnessed many missed holiday traditions, yet experienced many new traditions.
They’ve witnessed people who are trying to look like Jesus. That’s messy most of the time, yet incredibly beautiful. It’s impossible to express through words how honored I’ve felt in this season of my life. God used me as a vessel to edify my peers while traveling the world. When I say this has been my favorite season of the 25 years I’ve lived, I mean that from the depths of my authenticity.
Now as these same feet that have been traveling and loving and serving my chosen family, the next season is me loving and serving my blood family. I didn’t truly know the extent of the definition of “bittersweet” but I am feeling the heaviness of that word now.
Bitter because I desperately want to be with my new family but sweet because the Lord needs me in other places more. It’s the simultaneous feeling of complete peace yet utter heartbreak.
I am currently waiting for some African to approach me and ask who passed away in my life due to the reenactment of Niagara falls I’m displaying as I write this.
I have struggled with feeling useless and as though these last 5 months had a great potential to be a waste. Not a waste for me. Not at all. But a waste for the squad. Of course, I know they’d remember me, but
did I actually make a positive impact to the majority of the squad?
Did I point them back to Christ and urge their reliance to be on Holy Spirit?
Did I live my life in ways I would want to see in them?
I immediately realized those were most likely lies, but I struggled to see the truth behind it. That’s where the Lord came in. Like He always does. Abba used the squad to step into that dark place. One by one people opened that figurative door and came in with a lantern. And one by one that room started becoming lighter. It became cheerier. It became a place where I wanted to reside instead of a place that petrified me. These humans took me over to the walls to show me the texture I helped plaster. Then over to the furniture to see the unique designs I helped create. Another showed me the architecture of the establishment and the solid foundation to which we were standing on. As the room became lighter the truths became heavier. Not only could I see more but the people standing in front of me were with me not just for me. They were there because they wanted to be not because they had to be.
As leaving time became sooner, my feelings became heavier.
Expectation: I had this expectation of feeling a sense of accomplishment walking into the Atlanta airport after 5 months. As this scene started to play out on January 3rd, to my surprise it was slightly different. And by slightly, I mean dramatically dissimilar. As my coleader and now friend, Katie and I clasped hands while raising them in the air, we simultaneously said, “We did it” as we walked into the airport. I imagined a feeling of heaviness to be lifted off my chest or a big sigh of relief but all I experienced was longing. Longing to be with the squad. To be with my people. To be in a tent next to a river with hippos, snakes and giraffes. Or to be evangelizing in head wraps and skirts that are so under ventilated there’s a waterfall running down your knees. I yearned to be in the tears both happy and painful, the laughs both funny and embarrassing and the times both good and hard.
That was my sense of accomplishment. I did it. I loved so hard it hurt to leave. I never thought I would chalk that up as success but I am. I have been thanking the Lord for the capacity He instilled inside of me to love that many humans simultaneously.
This season the Lord has shown me how loved I am by Him. How am I supposed to love others if I myself don’t know how the Father loves me? Abba very patiently taught me the depth of love in the past 5 months. And the overflow from knowing how loved I am by the Lord? That’s the love I was able to give and the capacity in which it was given.
How incredible is that? How humbling is that? Was it easy at all hours of the day to love? Heck no! Sometimes it seemed impossible to love for just an hour, sometimes even 10 minutes.
Look at your family and friends…there are times you wanna lock yourself in the closet to get away orrrr lock them in the closet. That’s gonna happen. That’s life. We are imperfect so thank you Jesus for the patience you’ve already given us through our imperfections.
I went into squad leading thinking it was a discipleship position and Katie and I were the ones discipling. Reality? I was discipled equally if not more than I was discipling.
Thank you, Lord, for the unexpected friendships, laughs and B zones that are part of my testimony and forever are a part of my life. And thank you K squad for desiring to not only learn but to please the Father. I am grateful I was caught in the crosshairs of your yearning to reflect Christ.
