There’s a Few Things I NEED You to Know

Dear Family and Friends,  

I need you to know some things about me. Some things that are different. Some things that are difficult to understand. Things that will help you understand why I am what I am today. 

I really had no idea what I was getting myself into when I signed up for an eleven month mission trip to eleven different countries. I knew it was going to be hard, fun, exciting, emotional, and challenging. I expected all those things. But there were a million other things I did not expect. 

In the first four months especially, I didn’t expect to make relationships with locals so quickly only to have to say goodbye even faster. I didn’t expect to see the Lord change me drastically month one. I barely recognized myself. I was doing things I would never have done days earlier in the States. I was still mourning the passing of my grandma. I was stepping into a leadership role I felt completely unequipped for. I was asked to lead and love four girls I felt no connection with. I watched as the Lord took my team that felt like “the leftovers” and turn us into a family of sisters who shared something most teams never did on the Race. I watched the Lord change each of their lives in specific, beautiful, powerful ways. I came to appreciate my parents and upbringing like never before. I had an opportunity to share my journey of mourning my grandma with a large group of girls that led to them opening up about their struggles. I didn’t expect to go through my highest of highs and lowest of lows within days or hours of each other. I witnessed poverty, healings, speaking in tongues, manifestations of the Spirit and demonic manifestations for the first time. I ministered alongside people who are on fire for the Lord. I had challenging (to say the least) living conditions. I learned how to survive with little. Little food, little water, little clothing, little electricity, little (actually no) a/c, little motivation, little sleep, little (actually no) personal space, little cleanliness, little communication with family, little wifi, little kitchen utensils, little money, little luxuries, little privacy, little personal time. But through all the littles I experiences something even bigger. Things I never could have if they weren’t little. In the moment I felt less than “blessed and highly favored”, but now I wish everyone could experience what I did. But most of you can’t or won’t. It brings tears to my eyes knowing how I’ve gotten to experience things “normal” people never want to experience and how those experiences have brought me closer to the Lord than anything else could have. I thought the Lord was disciplining me but all along He was spoiling me.  

It was my desire to hear from the Holy Spirt that woke me up each morning to spend time in his Word in South Africa. It was the sweet time in the Word that woke me up each morning in Zimbabwe. It was the coolness of the morning and hunger to get a word from the Spirit that woke me up each morning in Zambia. It was the hunger to get time to myself before anyone else woke up and talk with the Lord that woke me up each morning in Malawi. Africa gave me a plethora of opportunities to complain, to be negative, to be lazy, to be selfish, but never to want to quit the Race. And don’t get me wrong I had my fair share of dabbling in each. But looking back, on every difficult situation, less than favorable living condition, awkward encounter, or hard conversation, I can’t help but smile and shrug my shoulders a little. I can’t explain it. I always wanted more. Africa brought me to life. I led, I cooked, I cleaned, I sang, I danced (well I attempted to), I changed, I taught, I preached, I cried, I served, I gave it all, I loved, I mourned, I made beautiful friendships. I spent four months with four girls that went from quit literal strangers to sisters. Then it was all over. All we had worked for to make our team what it was by the end of month four. Over. It wasn’t until it was officially over that we saw how special our team really was. I grieved the end of something so beautiful.   

Then came Asia. Asia was the perfect storm. New continent, new teams, new culture, ATL ministry for the first time, Christmas, and tears I didn’t know I had. I tried to put a smile on as I met with my new team. I was excited for my new team, but everything had happened too fast. I needed time to process. Vietnam gave little to no time for that. I put the miles in in Vietnam. 48 hour travel days by bus don’t phase me anymore. I experienced frustrations of not being able to openly talk about God in a closed country. This was the first month I didn’t have hosts and I craved the sweet relationship aspect more than I realized. I cried on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day multiple times. Who does that? I went from little to no Wifi in Africa, to Wifi in every shack on the side of the road in Asia. I missed eating shema from Africa (I realize that’s a very unpopular opinion especially amongst the guys in my squad). I was now quit literally sweating over a steaming bowl of Pho (pronounced ‘fu’). What the pho! I discovered a need for alone time (like not even seeing another human being) first thing in the morning. I was so desperate that 4am’s were welcomed with arms wide open in Cambodia. I trekked through mountains and attended a secret church. One day, in a span of 30 minutes I went from standing and witnessing one of the hardest things I’ve ever seen in a shelter at the back of a house, to sitting in the shop of one of the happiest, most joyful, ladies I’ve ever met. My heart was so happy to be back in the classroom for even two short weeks but it made for another round of hard goodbyes as we headed to Laos. A closed country. I entered with nothing but my teammates, my pack and lots of prayers. No plan, no lodging, little money, little communication. But I saw God connect all the dots and put us into contact with people who made me jealous. Jealous for their passion, their heart for the people they served, their love for God, their generosity, their vision. Laos/Cambodia put me face to face with the “party life” like never before. It made me angry. It made me uncomfortable. At the same time, it made me thankful. It made me humble. I battled with my emotions. I battled with frustrations in the rough patch my team was going through. I hated satan for using negativity to divide my team. Then came along Thailand and spoiled me with night markets, and gyms and the sweetest local roommate. I saw restoration in my team. I saw irritation and irritability come out in me that I hated. I let fears sneak in and shut me in a box. But I took it to God and witnessed him take away my fear and fill me with complete peace. Then with great excitement and expectation for South America that dream is stripped away in a thirty second voice recording informing us “your squad is being pulled from the field”. In less than five days I stepped foot back on U.S. soil for the first time in eight months. Was I jealous of the team that got stuck in Spain under a mandated quarantine. Maybe. Yes. Just a little. Was I hoping my squad would get stuck in Thailand or in a hotel in NYC. Quite possibly. Yes. But we didn’t. Bummer. 

Throughout the Race I wrestled with multiple lies from the enemy like: I’m not capable. I’m not strong enough. I’m not loved. I’m not enough. I’m not seen. I’m not loved. I experienced extremes like never before. I experienced the driest of dry seasons and the richest of rich seasons. I went on a spiritual rollercoaster I wasn’t quit strapped in for. Through tunnels I thought would never end. Upside down for longer than I thought I could stay conscious for. But at the end of the ride I was ready to go again. I always wanted more. I will always want more. I wrestled with the Lord collectively in eight months more than I have probably in my whole life. And it was so good. I lived in community. Not just like college roommate “community” where you might see them in the morning before classes and might see them before you roll into bed. I’m talking about eating, sleeping, breathing, doing everything together all day, everyday community. It’s exhausting. It’s messy. It’s uncomfortable…a lot of the time. You have to say some hard things to make it work. You have to do some hard things to make it work. You have to pray. You have to be humble. You have to be willing to give up a lot of personal preferences and desires. You die to yourself over and over again. You deal with conflict. You forgive and forget. It’s a lot like marriage I suppose. Man, if the Race is like marriage then I am ready and I’m about to dominate marriage. Haha!  

Why is it so hard for me to come home, you ask. Is it because I don’t love my family? Is it because I’m angry my World race is over? Is is because I’m scared of the Corona virus? Is it because I don’t want to move back into my home? No, it’s none of those things. It’s because of me. I’ve CHANGED. Mission trips in high school changed me but coming home after those was different. Living and teaching in Mexico changed me but it wasn’t that hard coming home. The World Race is unlike any other experience I’ve ever gone through. I’m coming back home CHANGED. And the environment I’m coming back into hasn’t changed. Honestly that scares me a little, ok a lot. I’ve experienced so much and done my best to explain them through blogs but no one really understands the extent to which my experiences have changed me. I have World Race PTSD people! Maybe I wouldn’t have felt like this if I had three months to prepare for this transition. I’ll never know. All I know is how I feel right now. I feel culture shock in my own country. My few constants over the past eight months are no longer constant. So yes it is hard for me to come home. But not for any bad reasons per say. Just hard ones. In Francis Chan’s book “Letters to The Church” I read while in Thailand, he was talking about living overseas and when they felt the Lord calling them back to the States this is what he said about how they felt. “While there were feelings of fear when we left the United States, now there was greater fear in returning. We didn’t want to lose our focus.” I read that and thought that’s it! I was afraid to leave home for the Race for a variety of reasons, but now I have an ever greater fear of returning home because I don’t want to loose what I’ve been striving to focus on the past eight months. 

Some specific ways I’ve changed/What I’ve discovered about myself:

~I keep people accountable to their goals. At the beginning of every new country my team would make new goals and when they shard them with me, they knew I would hold them to their goals. I would be a little or a lot savage if I needed. 

~I started going and doing things by myself. Whether it was walking to coffee shops, running at parks, working out, or running errands. 

~I speak a lot more boldly. 

~I like/need physical touch and words of affirmation. 

~I’m comfortable in the uncomfortable. 

~I like to hold hands when I pray. (I’ll try to refrain in this season. Thanks corona.)

~I like to be alone. I never would have previously said that I enjoy being alone, but now I really do. It recharges me. Especially if I can have time alone in the morning, it helps set a good trajectory for the day. I valued my sabbaths so much that I wouldn’t tell my teammates where I was sabbath-ing for the day so they couldn’t interrupt my alone time. I tried to not be selfish too often. But I was always selfish, and unapologetically so, with my sabbaths.

~I have a new set of vocabulary. I now speak in World Race lingo. Words like feedback, processing, ATLing, send it, debrief, mentor, SQLs, TLs, squad, sabbathing. But I won’t apologize for speaking in World Race lingo. 

I also won’t apologize for a few other things: 

~If I greet or thank you in another language.

~If I randomly start crying. (I don’t know why, but the Race has made me more emotional. Oh wait, no I prayed for that one. My bad.)

~If I wear the same things over and over and over again. (No worries, I’ll as least wash them but there might not be that much variety in my wardrobe.)

~If I give you feedback. (Just say thank you and move on.)

~If I use words or expressions I picked up from locals or past teammates. (Trust me, you’ll know what those are when I use them.)

~If I honestly express to you how I am feeling/doing.

~If I start celebrating the little things a whole lot more. (I learned the value and importance of celebrating people. Whether it was birthdays, holidays, or just random days, it goes a long way to do a simple act to lift spirits.)

~If I use something not for its intended use to same time or money. 

~If I ask to make popcorn every night.  

As I thought back to the beginning of my Race, I was just beginning to mourn the loss of my grandma (here’s a link to the letter I wrote to my grandma during that time https://khurrybullard.theworldrace.org/post/grieving-my-grandma-on-the-world-race ) I’m still mourning her passing. And now I’m mourning the loss of finishing my Race early. What a way to start and end a season. But what a story! A crazy, beautiful, almost unbelievable story. A story I’m so thankful to have gotten to share with so many of you. A story that wouldn’t have been possible without your financial support, your faithful prayers, your encouragement, and your commitment to serving the Lord with me.  

Thank you!

Call cun ca!

Ngiyabonga! 

Akon! 

Zikomo! 

Natotela!

Tatenda!

Cam on ban!

Gracias!

Family and friends, this is what I need from you. I need you to ask me questions. Specific questions. Don’t ask me how the Race was. That makes it sounds like I was on a vacation. I was on anything but a vacation. That question seems to cheapen my experience and what the Lord did in my life and the lives of so many. I need you to let me cry as I tell the good, the bad, the hard and the beautiful. I need you to give me adequate time to share with you the things you really want to know about my Race. I need you to give me time as I seek the Lord for what is next. I need you to pray with me and for me. I need you to treat me normally even though I’m not the same. I need you to give me space, and I need you to make me feel included and needed. I need you to give me grace if I speak my mind more freely than I have in the past. I need you to give me freedom to discover my new community and a church family that can pick up the reigns where the World Race left them. I need you to know that I’m still devoted to pursuing the Kingdom everyday. Know that I’m already looking to go back on the mission field, yet will be satisfied if my mission field doesn’t expand past the Oklahoma border lines. Know that I’m, like they say in Asia, “same same but different.” I look the same (other than with about the third of the amount of hair I had pre-Race), but inside I’m a very different person. Take time to get to re-know me and I’ll try not to disappoint! 

Here is a link to a really good blog a past racer posted after she returned. It has a lot of really good specific questions to ask racers who are returning from the field, aka Me. Take a look! 

https://nashielyaguilar.theworldrace.org/index.asp?filename=chapter&_ga=2.238876355.235077540.1561474745-2051651404.1501791047&fbclid=IwAR3ZipA09kLhr6d47h5mGPZgpbdlh29n-3_0mRQr3gnX0bWz-K8cJNFr9pY