I’ve been sitting here staring at my computer screen for about an hour. I’m trying to force my mind to turn and my fingers to type. There are a lot of things that I feel like I should blog about, but my mind is in a million different places, which makes it hard to pin-point one thought. So, this post may be all over the place.
I know that if I actually make myself “be still” and focus on what’s going on in my mind then I’ll have to think about the fact that the Race is drawing to an end, and then I have to deal with what that means. It means that once again, I have an uncertain future. It means that I’ll be saying good-bye to the community of people that I’ve lived with and grown to love for the past year. It means that the possibilities for the next season of my life are endless, which is both exciting and nauseating (if I’m being honest). It means that, in a way, I’m struggling to take the first step that was similar to leaving for the race. Dreaming big and letting go of my expectations, which always sounds so much easier than it actually is.
I was looking back at pictures from the race today; it’s obvious where each picture is taken because of the clothes I’m wearing. There’s the definite sweat-infused Haiti and DR pictures, the European style going on in Ireland (not so much in Moldova since it was freezing), the shetanga conservativeness in Africa, and the ridiculously random and misspelled clothing in Asia. I realized that the only thing I had to do to give a good first impression and be seen as “culturally acceptable” in each of those places was change my clothes. In a way, I’ve successfully mastered the art of being a chameleon. On good days, the one’s where my attitude doesn’t sneak up on me and suck, I’m able to go with the flow and blend in respectfully with whatever the culture is of our current country. On the race, this can be a really good thing, because it means you’re flexible and willing to adapt. But, this made me start thinking about going back to the States and what that means. I realized that I’ve been letting fear seep into my heart the past few weeks; fear of what the future looks like and fear that the “American dream” will once again begin to consume my thoughts and life.
After recognizing that I’ve allowed those fears to entertain my thoughts, I spent the next part of my day reading through my past blogs, celebrating what God has revealed to me this year and the growth that has been brought with new experiences and revelations. I spent hours reading the words that I’ve written, allowing God to wash over me and vividly bring my mind back to those moments. The struggles, the heartache, the conquering of doubts, and the JOY!
Whenever I entertain the thought that I could go back to being the person that I was before the race, I think about Zambia. oooh Zambia, we had such a love/hate relationship. There are no other words to say about Zambia except that it broke my heart. I’d never experienced joy being sucked out of me; my eyes struggled to find anything good in the situations that I saw, which shattered me to the core. I realized how selfishly I’ve lived my life, how I’ve never used my voice to speak up for victims of circumstances that aren’t easily changed.
I knew I had to allow myself to be changed, something that I still have to acknowledge daily. I realize that I’m not going to go back to the States and automatically keep my heart focused on what I’ve learned this year. It’s going to have to be a daily process of dying to myself, honoring the person beside me, and allowing my heart and mind to be renewed. It isn’t going to be easy, I recognize that but I’m no longer fearful :).
Why are you trying to fit in when you were born to stand out?
-maybe the cheesiest line ever from What a Girl Wants…but it’s true, think about it. 🙂
