As I walked through the park on my first morning home in Chicago, my mind turned into an old-school View-Master (if you’re born after ’95 just google it) clicking through a memory reel of all the landscapes I’ve seen this past year. I blinked and I wasn’t in Lincoln Park anymore; I was walking through the dust of Swaziland. I blinked and saw the tin homes of Haiti. Blinked again and I was teaching English class in Vietnam/Cambodia and Thailand.
I went for a run – or attempted to run – to my old spot by Lake Michigan and my imagination took hold again – the beach brought me back to South Africa and the Caribbean. The Mumford & Sons song ‘There Will Be Time’ plays in my ear buds and I’m immediately back in Lesotho singing and dancing with our kids. Every nationality that walked by the lake reminded me of my friends around the world. The steel skyscrapers, English speaking voices, and my out of shape lungs soon evaporated my vision. I was “home”, but my mind kept bringing me back to all of my other homes.
Now I’m in-between. Wedged in the middle of seasons and I’m doing my best to focus on the here and now., although it’s messy and hard to look at.
Today I went to our storage unit to dig my ‘real’ clothes, aka my non-world race clothes, out of boxes. I wasn’t expecting an overflow of emotions to come as I sifted through each piece of clothing, realizing that I didn’t need but a small portion of what I had. As I shoveled through, looking for my favorite WKU sweatshirt, I felt the all too familiar waterworks wash over me. I hugged my mom and thought to myself, “WHY do you keep crying? – get. it. together, gurl” but then I also reasoned, “welp, I feel better now”.
It’s been just over a week since landing on American soil and I’ve fully felt the upheaval of emotions. Happiness from being with family, catching up with friends and easy access to hot showers, fluffy towels, comfy beds and fresh *warm* laundry. Sadness from missing my squad mates. Excitement from my phone working without wifi and being able to flush my toilet paper (even though I still find myself second guessing). Anxiousness from not having a plan. Hurt for my brother, friends and hometown community who lost a bright light of a women in a car accident, sweet Mckenzi… And the overwhelming weight of “what’s next?”
There is something beautifully terrifying about the in-between. I feel so loved from my family and friends who have opened their homes to me and given me grace as I readjust. I’m in the process of figuring out where i’m going to work/live, how i’m going to afford a car or pay my bills (#pleasehireme). Plans I made before seem to be crumbling. I can feel society’s judgement telling me to settle down and get a ‘real’ job…whatever that means. I’m often met with silence when I tell people that I don’t have a concrete plan in place for my life.
I’m so stinkin’ thankful to have some people in the same boat as me – others who just got back from the race who also feel like everything is up in the air. There’s something so comforting about a “me too”. I explained it to a friend the other day as, “at least we’re in the same boat. We just lost the paddles and it’s gonna take a bit to figure out how to move forward”.
Our paddles were lost in the epic disorienting rapids that was the World Race. The rapids forced us to stop directing ourselves and let the Lord’s current bring us to our next destination. As much as I joke around and text my friends with a dramatic SOS emoji – the ship has already been saved.
But for now, I’m in the in-between. Just drifting up a creek without a paddle – enjoying the sun, and laughing at the rain. I’m sure wherever I end up is going to be way better than where I would be if I used the paddles and found my own way.
Jesus’ disciples found themselves out on a boat far from land once or twice too. I know there will be a day when Jesus calls me back out of the boat just as he did Peter. When Jesus said, “Come” to his disciple – Peter got out of the boat and walked on water. Pause. Rewind. He. WALKED. on. WATER, people. It’s times like this in the Bible when my imagination wonders if he did a little toe dip temp check first. Anyway, all was well until the wind took his focus off of the one person keeping him steady and he began to sink. Jesus immediately reached out His hand and took hold of him,
“O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” .
Matthew 14:22-33
The in-between lifts my chin to look Jesus in the eyes. When I lose focus and the wind of my fears blows through, my doubt starts to look a lot like Peter’s and I feel myself sinking.
I have this picture from Lesotho that is now the background on my computer. It’s a picture of two of the youngest kids from the orphanage where we lived. They were playing ‘airplane’, balancing on the heels of Chandler’s feet. She gradually lifted them up high as they gripped tightly to her hands. I can almost hear their giggles looking at this picture. Their beaming smiles don’t have an inch of fear in them. They never took their eyes off Chan.
This picture reminds me of how I need to be with Jesus – Balancing on His feet, holding tight to His hands and locking eyes as my face wrinkles with a big ol’ cheesing smile. If I’m playing airplane with anyone, I’m glad it’s Jesus.
So here’s to the in-between and all the other people that are here, have been here or will be here some day.
Here’s to not knowing and SOS and random breakdowns in storage units.
Here’s to looking back at the last season and catching the butterflies in our stomach that make us excited for the next.
Here’s to surrendering perfection and handing over paddles.
Here’s to the fact that Jesus immediately reaches out his hand to catch us when we lose focus and that we can lock eyes, grasp hands and trust that He will lift us up when we start to sink.
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