This morning, before I even opened my eyes, I thought one single thought in my head:
Today, I am going to Portillos and getting myself a chicken sandwich and cheese fries.
Then, I opened my eyes rolled over and checked my watch. It was 6:30am, breakfast was in an hour and I had to be at school at 8 to teach at the school. Oh, and hey, Portillos is not on the menu today. Those delicious cheese fries that you could nearly taste Sydney? Those are way back home in good ol’ Chicago.
I literally have a little over a month left of the race.
Thats right, the 9 month journey is nearly over. When I get off the plane in Bangkok- back on September 12, 2015- my thought process was simply just a few thoughts: I signed my life away, I will be stuck on a farm in Thailand for the rest of my existence and I will never see home ever again.
September 2015 to May 2016 seemed like a literal eternity. But I blinked my eyes, and it is almost over.
Only a little over a month left.
I’m going to be honest in this blog, not that I haven’t been honest in previous ones- but I don’t think people realize that The World Race is not always peachy. I know, our Instagram feeds make us look like we have the most exciting life ever. Cute kids everywhere, beautiful sunsets, the best of friends having a grand stinking time, chasing waterfalls, swimming with sharks the list goes on and on.
Yes, we do cool things. Yes, we love it. Yes, we are thankful.
But what you see through our blogs and social media posts doesn’t always do it justice. We don’t typically broadcast the fact we haven’t been able to flush the toilets in our home for 4 days, we haven’t showered in 6, or that we have eaten rice and beans every day for the last 2 months.
We don’t always publicly come out and say that we’re tired. That we’re done. That we miss our friends and family and that FOMO is real as ever. We don’t put it out there that we’re sick of being uncomfortable and we’re sick of community living. We don’t let everyone know that we’re frustrated as heck and that we’re running on a real low tank of gas.
I can’t speak for every world racer. I know that I am not alone in it, but there are people who are rocking it and still bursting with joy at the seams. I admire that. I wish I could be like that.
But, I’m here to tell you right now that I’m struggling. I’m struggling hard as heck with everything I just named above.
A very popular statement I get a lot is, “Well you only have a month left! You’re doing just fine! Keep it up! You’re having so much fun!” or when I say that I wish I was home to be apart of something with my friends and family, I get “You’re on the world race! How can you want to be at home!”
That’s literally almost the point. I have a month left. There has been 8 previous months of what I’ve been doing. It’s long. It’s tiring. I’m not staying at a 5 star resort. Although I adore the people I’m with, I’m not with the people truly near and dear to my heart.
There are some days that life is as good as heck. There are some days where the sun is shining and I can’t stop smiling and happiness is evident. Then, there are days where I don’t want to get out of bed. Days where I just want to take my credit card and book the next flight home.
Even when the going gets tough though, I am thankful beyond belief to be here.
More than that though, I am thankful as ever to be hand chosen by The Lord to be building His kingdom. He specifically called me to specifically picked countries, specifically placed me with people to do His work. He chose me.
Whether I like it or not, He chose me to be in Nicaragua. Whether I get it or not, He wants me to be right here in Nicaragua. Whether I want to be here or not, here I will stay.
That is what makes the struggle so much more sweet.
The last month is going to be a rocky road. I know that and I am not going to sugar coat it and say that this last month is going to be smooth sailing. I’m not going to tell you I am on top of the world right now. It’s going to take a lot of hope and strength and faith and resilience. It’s going to take a lot of reliance on God to truly believe that He brought me to it, and He will bring me through it.
But I know when this journey is over, my Father is going to be looking down on me beaming with complete and utter joy. He is going to be applauding me and dancing and singing and smiling WITH me because I completed the task He had for me. I laid my comfort and pride down and let Him have it. I finished the journey that seemingly had no finish line and I know for a darn fact, He is going to be so thrilled and say “My daughter! You did it! I knew you would!”
The struggle is a real struggle, but yet so beautiful. I have a good, good Father that just never fails. That’s what makes it all worth it.
And that meal from Portillos? That’s going to taste so much better.
