Here I sit in the Atlanta airport.
9 months ago I walked these very floors with a group of 50 strangers. Together, we were flying to Bangkok, Thailand. Each of us filled with different emotion, but excited for the adventure that was to come. We eagerly carried our passports and backpacks, knowing that for the next 9 months we were free. As young adults, we were headed off into the world to be the hands and feet of Jesus Christ. Behind that eagerness though, was a sense of “Wow. This is really happening.” and there was a slight sense of fear that 9 months wasn’t exactly a short amount of time, and we wouldn’t be in the American environment we knew our whole life for nearly a year.
That 9 months came, and it went.
Now, here I am sitting in the Atlanta airport completely by myself. Just one, lone traveler.
I am not in a group of 50 young adults. I am not sitting on a pile of backpacks and Kavus and purses. I am not hearing the obnoxious laughter and chatter and voices singing “Wagon Wheel” for the 10 thousandth time. I am not making eye contact with strangers, and trying to communicate via smiles that we are actually a really great, group of sane people. I am not asking people if they can watch my stuff while I go find food under our $5 a day budget.
I am sitting by myself in awe that these 9 months are over.
I am back on American soil. I am headed back to the city that I grew up in, I am no longer flying into unfamiliar territory. My passport is now tucked away into my backpack because now, I am not the foreigner.
I’m home.
The journey that I had anticipated for hundreds of days, was over. The 4 countries that I had researched and was itching to see, were gone. The 50 strangers that I spent day in and day out with for 9 months? Well, they’re gone now too.
Now, it’s just me and myself and a whole lot of tears.
But, what an amazing life I have been living.
I lived on a banana farm, way up in the mountains of Thailand. I rode elephants and laid amongst tigers. I nearly ripped my hair out trying to teach English to children who have never even heard it spoken before. I ate pounds and pounds of rice and showered with lizards and frogs. I tattooed my lip at some jenky tattoo shop, and I still don’t know if I regret it. I got a surprising twist of living in Cambodia for one month with 36 beautiful orphans. I caught immeasurable amounts of head lice and couldn’t help but continuing to put my head against kids who needed nothing but love and the warmth of a hug. I explored and got lost in ancient temples that once were part of the 7 wonders of the world with two of my greatest friends.
Then, I went to Cape Town and had the best 3 months of my life. I ate a disgusting amount of grilled cheese. I had an incredible host family, whom I now consider my own. I made new friends that I pray I keep for a lifetime. I soaked up the sun on some of the most beautiful beaches in the world and watched my friends surf and find new passions. I to, discovered a passion and love for Hillsong Church and experienced The Lord in ways I never thought I would. I accidentally got my hair dyed orange and was always laughing way to hard and too long. I encountered and loved on kids heavily affected by gangs, violence, drugs and poverty. I learned that I can’t change the world that they have to face, but I can show them the love of Christ and trust He is protecting their hearts. Then onto Nicaragua, where I realized my 3 years of Spanish class didn’t pay off at all and I found myself trying to remember and learn Spanish phrases. I lived on an Island formed by two volcanos and was constantly surrounded by little niños who just wanted to mess with the white people. My body has turned into a giant mix of rice and beans because thats all I ever seemed to eat. I sweated off my body weight day in and day out and found peace and cool in a lake whose bottom was nothing but layers and layers of volcanic ash.
I’ve rode bikes and scooters and in the back of random strangers pick up trucks to trains, and planes and Ubers. I’ve slept in a variety of places that people call home from tree houses, to a small room with 9 other girls, to a beautiful home with 17 of my best friends and then a very small room with 3 bunk beds nicknamed the “shoe box.”
I’ve seen amazing sunsets and sunrises, beaches and land. I have taken beautiful hikes through South Africa. I discovered hidden gems in national parks in Thailand, and may have even gotten a few stitches on the way down.
Most importantly however, I experienced our Creator in a much bigger capacity than I could ever imagine. I felt His presence pushing me along the days that seemed endless and were harder than I wanted them to be. I’ve seen Him at work with those around me and I’ve seen lives transformed— mine becoming something I never imagined. I watched chains be broken from myself, my friends and strangers alike. I’ve finally understood what it means to just simply be, and dance and sing in wonder and awe of the life He has created for me. I understand now what it means to walk in freedom, and know that I am the beloved daughter of a Father and there is nothing that could separate me from that. I dedicated my life to Him in the middle of a lagoon in Nicaragua. I can now say with a confidence like never before that Jesus is indeed, the love of my life. I’ve learned that Jesus is the only one that I need and the only one I could desire.
The last 9 months I have LIVED and LOVED and for that, I am immensely grateful. I am changed. I feel that I CAN and WILL conquer this world.
When I signed up for this trip, I went in with the thought I was going to be a world changer. But in reality, the world ended up changing me.
This journey may be over, but in reality our journey as followers of Christ, and simply people of the human race— our journey is NEVER over until God calls us back home and decides that our work for Him is finished.
Please understand that this journey was beyond what words could ever explain.
My heart is bursting with joy to be home, but aching to know I will no longer be surrounded by friends who became family. I’m in a very weird place, and am searching for that middle ground to feel peace, and finding the footing of the place I once knew so well.
Being off American soil for 9 months and then back on overnight is very overwhelming. While I do have so many stories, memories, and photographs to share with everyone, please understand that these next few weeks will be needed to process everything that has happened. They are not kidding when they say this trip will radically change you in ways that you could never fathom.
Within the coming days, I will be posting more blogs to do more explaining and furthering the explanations of what has taken place in my heart. Please hold tight.
Thank-you to my supporters, my prayer warriors- who have supported me since the day I probably awkwardly answered your “So, where are you going to college in the fall?” with, “I actually am traveling the world.”
Thank-you from the bottom of my heart for continuing to follow me and join alongside this race with me the last 9 months. Thank-you to those who supported financially, there are no words that I could ever say that express my immense gratitude to you for helping me even get there in the first place. Thank-you to those who kept me in their prayers and sent me messages or tweets of encouragement, I truly believe you played a huge role and part of getting me to the finish line.
Your kindness does not go unnoticed.
I am overwhelmed and flooded with emotion from the joy and hope and faith I have experienced. I am overwhelmed and flooded with emotion from the joy and hope and faith that is to come.
I am excited to see what the next season of life has to offer me, but until then: I am back. I am home in the 815 and probably currently en route to Portillos.
I love you all.
