Our last month on the field has officially come to an end. We said goodbye to Swaziland (with a few tears as the realization began to sink in) and are now beginning our FINAL debrief as a squad. It feels unreal.
So what now? In a few days we board our last flight as a squad and head back home. The World Race is ending for us. This uncomfortable adventure has become my new normal. The buddy system doesn’t even annoy me anymore. I’m not terrified of feedback. I can speak about my feelings in present tense. I can pack my entire life into two bags in less than an hour. A fifteen-hour bus ride seems short. Cars are now the most luxurious form of transportation there is. Riding in the bed of a pickup truck without a seatbelt makes me feel alive. Stopping to let cattle cross the road doesn’t phase me. This is my life.
I am scared of going home. I am scared of forgetting the things God has taught me this year and the places to which He has taken me –both geographically and spiritually. I am scared of forgetting how I’ve grown. I am scared of not being able to put into words the way this year has wrecked and changed my life. But most of all, I am scared of people I love not understanding the things I’ve been through this year.
When I get home, give me grace. I know the question will be asked over and over and over again. “How was the World Race????” How am I supposed to answer that question without walking you through every country, every month, every challenge, and every celebration? How can I give a superficial answer to the most meaningful and growing year of my life?
When I get home, give me grace. I will be struggling to put into words the last 320 days. Give me time to process through answers, and don’t be afraid to ask me the specific, deep, hard questions.
When I get home, give me grace.
