Let me start this by saying I am not even completely sure what I want to say. Or how I want to say it. But God is telling me to write, so that’s what I’ll do.
I have been home for about a month. In some ways it seems like I have been home for years and the race is some distant fond memory and in other ways it feels like just yesterday I was in El Salvador teaching English.
Everything is different, yet everything is the same.
Everyday I have to remind myself of where I am.
“Oh yeah, I don’t have to use a water bottle to wet my toothbrush.”
“Oh yeah, I can flush toilet paper.”
“Oh yeah, I can talk faster. No one is translating my sentences.”
“This is $5?! To expensive.”
“Hot showers are amazing.”
“Why is it so quiet? Why isn’t 40 something people around me all talking?”
“When is O.C Time????”
“Oh yeah, I can text people instead of using facebook messenger.”
But on a more serious note. My first few weeks home, I felt extremely lost. I wanted a ministry to work with. I wanted people to pour into. I wasn’t sure where to start. So naturally I sat in my room and cried. A lot. But I also prayed a lot. I continued to read my bible. I kept my habit of spending time with the Lord every morning.
About two weeks into being home, I was having an especially hard morning. I missed my squad. I missed them so much it hurt. I missed my best friends. I missed ministry. I missed people that spoke my world race lingo. And I felt terrible. Because my friends and family have gone above and beyond to welcome me home. But I still missed my squad. So I sat on the kitchen floor on my knees and cried. I raised my hands and shouted to my Father.
I had wanted to go back out on the field in January. God told me no three different times. He told me my mission field right now is home. I hated this answer. So that morning, I asked him why. Why did you bring me back here? What am I supposed to be doing? You didn’t bring me home for nothing yet nothing is happening. I cried some more and then got up. I read my bible, drank my coffee, and then my phone buzzed.
My Sunday school director wanted to know if I wanted to come in and talk about working for our church’s sister church. They needed a children’s ministry director and after praying a lot about it, they thought I would be a good fit.
I sank back to my knees and cried even more. This is why he brought me home. This is what he has for me. This is my mission field.
Fast forward to today, and I’m still not exactly where I fit in here, but I know with time I will figure that out. I have my good days and my bad days. Some days I am so happy to be home and other days I go through pictures, letters, and journals and mourn for the race.
I’m still grieving the race. I’m still grieving the loss of my squad. But I am also rejoicing. Rejoicing in the fact that God heard my cries and brought a ministry I can pour my heart into. Rejoicing in that I get to see my friends and family and show them the good work God has done not only around the world but also in me. Rejoicing in the fact that just because I am home I didn’t lose my relationship with God, and it is growing more and more.
So I guess that’s where I am. Reentry was hard. Man, it was hard. Some days I felt like a complete stranger in my own culture, in my own family. There are days I just want someone who understands what I went through, what I saw to be around. Our squad leaders warned us it would be rough, and I knew I would have a hard time with it. And they were right. Some days it was absolutely brutal. But my family and friends loved me through it.
I wouldn’t say I’m in the clear just yet. Food still kills my stomach. I still forget the English words to some things. I still miss my squad. I still long to be serving God’s people. But throughout all of it, I’m okay. I haven’t gone back to old ways and old habits. I have little victories everyday. And I think that is what its all about. The little victories.
This year, this squad, these people, my ministry hosts, the people we served, the people that we loved on and in return loved us, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. This was a year I will never forget. It was full of hard lessons. It was full of love. It was full of God. It was a year that taught me how to daily surrender to God, and my prayer for my squad and I is that we never forget it. It was putting a toe in the water. Bigger things are coming, and I can’t wait to see what adventure God brings me on next.
love,
Tay.
****ALSO, these beautiful people are going back out on the field. Read their blogs, see their hearts, and maybe send them a little support!
http://kirstymarshall.theworldrace.org
http://haleywubs.theworldrace.org
http://emilyburwell.adventurescga.org
http://greghall.theworldrace.org
http://alishallen.theworldrace.org
http://naomihannon.theworldrace.org
http://timlarue.theworldrace.org
http://brittneynompleggi.theworldrace.org
www.shelbybradford.myadventures.org
http://annastrickland.theworldrace.org
http://megancohill.kingdomjourneys.org
http://danakarpinski.theworldrace.org
