Long way gone.

I've been back in the States for almost 3 months... but it feels much longer, so much of life has happened.

I feel I'm light-years away from the life I was leading just 90 days ago. In just a short amount of time I have melded back into the American lifestyle: My google calandar is chalk-full of meeting, dates, and appointments, I mutter unkind words under my breath when the car in front of me is too slow, and I may or may not have succumbed to retail-therapy a time or two to soothe the occasional anxiety or sadness.

Too soon I've begun skipping morning time in the Word and journaling my prayers. And I already feel the effects of the distance that is stretching between myself and my Father.

My life is full of blessings, though. I have an incredible fiance who loves me and cares for me deeply. I have a precious, supportive family who are so, so generous. I have the most amazing friends who have encouraged me and challenged me and spoken truth into me in this tough time of transition. But I too quickly have forgotten to thank the Giver of these wonderful blessings.

One year ago, I was ending my month in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. I had spent a few weeks teaching English to the most adorable (and loco) group of 11 and 12 year olds. The Lord began to reveal to me my passion for teaching. I loved standing up in front of them to teach them the English words for ropa (clothing), partes del cuerpo (parts of the body), and Jesu Cristo.

I found a little brother in Ariel, who brightened my mood just by throwing his arm over my shoulder. I offered him my hooded sweatshirt, because he didn't own one, and the Honduran nights were pretty darn chilly in his one room house with no heat.

My heart broke for Stefen and Carlitos, whose mom was constantly in and out of the hospital with severe stomach ailments and possible cancer. Because she was so sick, she could not work and provide food for her children or pay for their school fees.

One year ago, I celebrated Thanksgiving with 55 of the most amazing people I know, complete with mac & cheese, pumpkin pie, and stuffing (Yes! We found them in Honduras!). At the time, I was less than grateful for these abundant blessings... All I wanted was to be at home with my family on my favorite holiday of the year. I had to learn the lesson of giving thanks in all circumstances, and it was incredibly tough.

This year I got to celebrate two Thanksgivings--one with my in-laws-to-be, and one with my own family. Two Thanksgivings?? How could I not be grateful? But I wasn't. I skimmed past the "30 Days of Thankfulness" statuses everyone was posting on Facebook and didn't care to think of my own (numerous)blessings I should have been thankful for.

Hello, reality check. I may be a little late on the Thankfulness Train... but God calls us to have hearts of thanksgiving all of the time, everyday, every minute. Even when our circumstances or moods push us to do otherwise.

"Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jessus, giving thanks to God the Father through him." - Colossians 3:15-17

Do you get it yet, Sydney? Give thanks already!!

One year ago today...

One year ago today, I stepped out of a plane and on to Guatemalan soil.

One year ago today, I threw my giant backpack on top of a taxi van and awkwardly squashed myself inside with 20 or so Americans I barely knew.

One year ago today, I tossed my cookies on that taxi van in front of 20 or so Americans I barely knew.

Welcome to the World Race. (I get carsick.)

Who was I a year ago today? I was scared to death. I was mourning the distance between my family and me. I was thrilled for adventure. I was awkward around my new squad mates. I was so naive.

I had not a clue what I was getting myself into. Not a clue. We drove through the winding mountain hills from Guatemala City to Antigua. I unpacked in my very first hostel, Mochileros (Which means “Backpackers”). I slept in my sleeping bag that night for fear of all the crazy Central American germs and bed bugs. I made clumsy attempts to get to know my two roommates.

Could I have known that soon hostels would become an oasis in the desert for me?

A bed? Praise the Lord!

A (possibly) hot shower that isn’t from a bucket? Hallelujah!

A chance to be reunited and hang out with 50 of the most awesome, hilarious, faithful people I’ve ever known? Give me more!

During our launch training, our teams were asked to create a video project depicting “What a World Racer Looks Like, Acts Like, and Lives Like.” Ohhh, how very naïve we were… (and ridiculously bad at video-making)

I feel like I hardly know that person in the video. I feel light-years away from her. To say I am transformed almost seems like and understatement. I can scarcely sum up the ways that I changed this year or try to tell you who I am today, but I’ll give it a shot.

My heart has been broken. I can’t see the people the same way. When I see someone who is homeless or hungry or begging on the street, I can’t walk on by like I used to. I heart aches to do something about it. I have to make a difference. I have to show them God’s love somehow.

My eyes have opened. Americans, crazily enough, aren’t the only ones in the world. And the world doesn’t revolve around us. And it isn’t about us and how we can make ourselves into the most beautiful, successful, loved, perfect human beings. It’s not about us at all. There’s a whole world of people out there (who look not a thing like the American ideal) who God created, He absolutely adores, and He believes are beautiful, valuable, and perfect.

My faith has grown. And grown and grown and grown. I don’t see God the same way. He is so much BIGGER than I could even fathom. He is so much more compassionate and graceful and patient with me than I ever knew. He is beyond faithful to his children—He is beyond faithful to me, and He is beyond faithful to Emerson in Nicaragua, Pbee Mai in Thailand, and Magdalene in Kenya. He is with us until the end.

 God used these last 365 days to change me. A whole lot. And so, obviously, I’m not the same Sydney who left a year ago. And it’s going to take some time to figure out how to be the “new” Sydney in this “old” place. So I need grace. I need prayer. I need love. I am beyond grateful for an amazing family, precious friends, and faithful fiancé who are helping me through. But even when I don’t feel like “myself,” I just need to be reminded that (like we said almost every day in Africa) God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good. 

Dreamality?

Dreams and reality. Reality and dreams. Where does one stop and the other begin?

I am a firm believer that every person has a God-given dream deep within their hearts.

I am also a firm believer that it honors God when we chase after those dreams.

What was my dream? I wanted to see the world. I wanted to do big things for the glory of the Kingdom. I wanted to make an impact. I wanted my life to mean something.

Long ago, God placed the seed of that dream within my heart. He grew and developed the dream, and helped me realize it, as He grew and developed me and my faith. God called me to follow Him across the borders of many waters and many lands, and I said “yes.” It wasn’t an immediate “yes,” and saying it wasn’t without many a struggle and many an obstacle, but I did say it.

And I’ll never regret that I did.

But I will say that saying “yes” brought along challenges I never dreamed of. This past year I faced the ugly parts of myself, the ugly parts of humanity, and the ugliness and brokenness of this world. But through it I grew. SO much. Through it I learned lessons I never would have otherwise. Through it I changed. A lot.

And there comes the tough part. I changed. So, who am I now? A world traveler? Sure. A missionary? I suppose. All I know is I’m not who I was. And that’s what I wanted. I knew I couldn’t remain the same—I knew I didn’t want to.

But how do I live as the new me in this old life? It is familiar: I sleep in the same bed, I drive the same roads, I have picked up my old daily routine. But it doesn’t feel the same. Everything is different now because I am different.

I can’t figure it out. I don’t know how to describe it. When I was at home, I dreamed of going away. When I was away, I dreamed of being home. And now I am back home, and it feels as if I am in a dream, floating along somewhere in between the two worlds I know: the “3^rd World Country Simple Life Out of a Backpack” and the “U.S. of A. Familiar But Not Quite So Familiar” worlds.

Is it my human nature that can never be satisfied, whether here or abroad? Is it the great chasm between the two lives I’ve lived? Is it merely making the transition home that is so hard?

I haven’t figured it out yet. Being home is harder than I ever imagined, but I can’t really tell you why. I want to feel normal again, like myself—but what and who is that?? And how do I get there? How long will it take?

How could I have ever imagined that this is what it would be like on the other end? I have to keep reminding myself that, despite the seemingly endless variety of emotions I feel on a daily basis, there is One who is constant, who is my Rock. I have to remind myself that though I don’t quite feel at home here, there is One who is my Home, where I can always rest my head. I have to remind myself that even when I cannot see what lies ahead, there is One who can, who already knows, and who knows that what lies ahead is good. It’s always good.

I know I’ve been silent in these last weeks since I’ve arrived home. I haven’t known what to say—honestly, I haven’t known what to think most of the time. But I do want to say thank you from the very bottom of my heart to all of you who have supported me, in prayer, in friendship, and monetarily.

Thank you for making this dream come true for me.

Thank you for walking with me and loving me.

Thank you for being a part of my story.

What’s really exciting is that my story, my dream doesn’t stop here. God has much more. I don’t know what it is yet, but He is always stirring something. I fell in love with the town of Candelaria, Nicaragua. I left my heart in the village of Bakong, Cambodia. Maybe God will call me back. Maybe He has brand new adventures waiting around the corner. We’ll just have to wait and see.