Tell the World I am Coming Home

Okay.  I lied. I am NOT coming home (yet). 

 

June 1, 2014 marked my arrival back in the States, after being gone for 11 months while on The World Race.  June 3, 2014 (a year ago today at the time of writing this blog) I found myself crossing through the Neche/Gretna border and (finally) arriving HOME in good ol’ Altona, Manitoba.  I remember both days, like it just happened.  The feelings and emotions of coming off way to many hours in a plane and the worst travel day ever, to the anticipation of seeing my parents.  From the sadness of realizing that I would have to say ‘good-bye’ to my race friends, who had become my family over the year that passed, to the joy that filled my heart with the thought of seeing my youth girls after a year.  If there was ever a time for an emotional roller coaster ride; those 72 hours were it.

Airport hugs after 11 months

I thought I knew what laid before me in the upcoming year.  I thought I would be attending school at Providence in the summer, working in A-Town and getting to know a new group of grade 9 youth girls.  Since I had no plans to travel within the year, I had already accepted the fact that I would be celebrating my ‘one year’ at home simply ‘living life’ and working a normal 9-5 job.  Clearly God had other plans for me as, ironically enough, only ONE of my original plans actually came true my first year back at home.

What is even more ironic is that, on June 1, 2015 I found myself thousands of miles away from ‘home’ at a place that I can honestly say never crossed my mind a short year ago.  I was in the African sun, at the Immigration office in Ndola, Zambia, waiting to get the visas in our passports renewed for another month.  As I held my freshly stamped passport I thought to myself, “Has it really been a year? Have I really been back in Zambia for a month already?  Is this all just some sort of a bizarre dream? Am I really going to go back to the school later today to hang out with some of the world’s most amazing (trust me, I have looked) kids?

Grace Academy

In the span of a year, so very much can change.  While on the race, especially while in Swaziland and South Africa, my heart yearned for the people of Zambia.  For my feet to return to the place of Grace and those lives that have been saved by it.  Yet today, less than a year home from the race, I am back at this place. 

 

On my ‘one year home’, instead of spending the day working 9-5, I spent it giving a short English lesson, renewing my visa for my passport, eating Nishma with my fingers, and I played Frisbee with about a dozen kids.  In the evening, I listened to a few kids practice their reading out loud, and watched the beautiful colours of an African sunset. 

Indeed, God is Good.

God is so very good.