Homesick

It doesn’t really make sense to feel homesick when you’re at home.
I grew up in this place, with these people. Seven brothers, one sister, both my parents, and my wonderful church family. I love them, and I love the kids that I’ve been taking care of at the daycare. But there’s a different family that I miss.

I came back to Edmonton in April after doing a six month Discipleship Training School (DTS) with YWAM in Vancouver. While I was away, I lived with nineteen people I had never met before, who came from different cultures and backgrounds. It was hard to transition, and I did miss my church and family. Somehow though, I got used to it, learning to understand people who think and act differently, and to love them because of and not in spite of it. After three months of bible-based teaching, eighteen of us left for Southeast Asia, specifically Thailand and Indonesia. We were with each other day and night for three months straight, working through every challenge that came our way and doing it all by God’s grace.
This support system, this family that I never had before, changed and challenged me in so many ways. I thrived in that encouraging environment of people with the same goal, to love God and love others. And we did learn to love in ways we hadn’t before. We learned that we were able to step out far beyond what we thought we could do, and to put up with much more than we thought we could handle. It seemed like every day God was teaching us something new, and although that was hard, we did it.
At the end of it all, it was strange to see everyone go their separate ways. When people left with their suitcases, some to the airport and others to various places throughout the city, it was this strange moment that I couldn’t really grasp as reality. Of course they would come back. It seemed I was forever stuck with these people. And even when the shock of it hit me that night, somehow I was convinced that in a week or two we’d all be back together and laugh about how tough that time was. It’s been a hard journey since then, trying to figure out how to live again in what has been referred to as the “real world,” “normal life,” or life “outside the incubator” that was our school - and the hardest thing about it is the lack of constant support. Still, I am learning to adapt to this life (although sometimes I wonder if maybe that environment can become a reality in “normal life” – but that’s another blog post).

When people ask me about DTS, I often list off events: things we did, things God did. Sometimes I talk about what I learned. But when people ask me about my team, that’s when I get excited. Because all those events are in the past and I can’t bring them back, but those amazing people are still alive, and God is still working through them. Each one of my teammates has unique qualities and passions - no one else could fill their shoes or accomplish the purposes God has for them. So when I talk about them, it’s like I can see into the future, where God uses them to bring light into the darkness in specific areas like only they can.

And so because of their built-in awesomeness and the intimacy we shared, I miss them, my home for six months. But just like I can’t bring back those events from DTS, I can’t bring back my teammates either. Instead, I just pray for God’s purpose to be accomplished in them, and I hope that at some point in the future, I will be able to hang out with them again, to laugh about inside jokes and talk about the amazing things God is accomplishing through us.