Running in Wide Spaces.

I wanna go
Do something kinda crazy
I wanna go
Drive all night with you right next to me
I wanna go
Feel the pounding of your heartbeat
When we get up high, won't look down, we won't look back
Yeah when I die, I wanna know I lived like that

Gosh its almost been a year since I last wrote on my blog. I am 26, going on 27, and its really amusing to look back on my posts, because I barely know that girl anymore. A year of living on my own, traveling internationally, working my third summer at Wind River, then coming back home to my parent's Midwestern smalltown-world, was honestly the craziest and best thing I've done for myself.

There is something satisfying about looking back on a very full year from the same seat I've written most of my blog posts. Nothing really has changed here, at home I mean. I got into the habit of calling the house I rented with several other girls in Kentucky "home", but really when it comes down to it. . .this is home. Like I posted on Instagram my first morning back: its 10 AM, I roll over and realize I have no commitments. For the first time in over a year I can lay around and sleep in and not have to worry about anything. I'm on vacation in my parents home, and it feels so good! It's been real, folks. Everything from a borrowed mattress to couches, pool floaties under mosquito netting, wooden floors, bunks, on planes and in the back of trucks. Now I'm in my room in my own blissful bed. My dog is snoring by my side and I'm surrounded by the people I love most. Dorothy was right...there's no place like home. 

The relationship I not so subtly wrote about in my last post--all the way back in February?--came and went. Recently a friend said to me when I asked him what he was doing the rest of the year, "going home." "Why?" I asked. "Oh, well I'm done running." It hit me between the eyes. Everything is for a season, and in these months of gallivanting around the country and even the world, I ran and saw and did everything I've always wanted to do. Missions was my biggest dream for years. . .I got it out of my system and it was life-transforming. But I'm happy. I did what I had to do when I had to do it. Am I called to missions? I'm open to it, but honestly the frantic call I always thought I had isn't there anymore. And that is perfectly fine. I'm taking my life a day at a time. No more super-planner me who has all her ducks in a row. It doesn't always work that way. And I'm so happy to just settle in to my parents home for a few months while I get myself on my feet. It's like I'm on vacation. . .I still have responsibilities, every missionary needs to re-coop, and I am milking this first week as hard as I can. Next week. . .next week I can start a job hunt and worry about the dead car in my driveway.

I always thought it was just my family, but I've come to realize through my travels that the Midwest is truly a sleepy, laidback style of life. Maybe I'm not permanently called to it, but it really is good. Very familiar, yet I'm exploring my neighborhood, my dog, the closet in my room, mom cooking breakfast in the morning. . .with fresh eyes. I haven't been home since Christmas, and when I did it was only for a couple of days. An average life here consists of graduating highschool, going to college (oops, somehow missed that one, ;) ) getting married (also behind,) having a few kids, buying a nice house, maintaining that house, and retiring. Oh, and continuing to maintain the house. I've always had a different mindset. I needed to experience every facet of this big, wide world, with my passions and colorful personality. I don't think that will every go away. . .I fully intend on being the cool grandma who wears rainbow socks and pink lipstick. But after Kentucky then Thailand then Colorado, I'm seeing the worth in just settling back and enjoying slow, every day life. It has its merits. "Oh, well I'm done running."

I wanna run in wide spaces
Fly like the wind in high places
Rushing like water on my face
With your handing in my hand
I wanna dance into the moment
Kiss ya like ya never been kissed before me
I would go anywhere you wanna go
With your hand in my hand

 "Go" by Cody Fry has been my theme song since going back to Wind River in August. It embodies the wild limitlessness of Colorado, but even more, the new me who believes I am capable of doing whatever I set my mind to. It captures the dreams of spending my days with a man who mirrors me and fits the piece to my puzzle. It is the dreams of my past and future. And like the music video depicts, it speaks of the simplicity of childhood. I'm back to my roots, this small town in Midwestern USA. Where life is a little slow and exactly what it should be for this season.

I wanna go
Make pictures look like postcards
I wanna go
Take the train and watch you sleep right in my arms
I wanna go
Where we don't know where we are, climb something high, don't look down and don't look back
Yeah when I die, I wanna know I lived like that

Its kind of crazy how living in a third world country will change the way you view literally everything. I probably use social media more then every before (gotta post updates on my workouts and pics of mountains and adorable Thai kids!) but I could care less about the number of "likes" I get or how popular my feed is. I still love shopping and buying new clothes, but there are practical purposes to them now, not just mindless pleasure.

There is purpose in everything, no matter how mundane or simple. They say once you've experienced another culture, especially in places likes Southeast Asia and Africa, that we in the US take things for granted, and I was thinking "eh, culture shock won't be a big deal, blah blah blah." Hah. I was so wrong. We take everything for granted in the US. Whenever I'm tempted to complain or forget to trust God for (I was going to say life, but DAY seems more appropriate,) I remember things like the precious children I met and played with at the Fountain of Hope orphanage, the literally hundreds of prostitutes selling their bodies in the Red Light District of Chiang  Mai, the struggling Christians who make up the religious minority, or the little old lady in one small village who's feet were crooked from years of work. She had always done her washing and cooking outside, and my team was able to buy her a tiny gas stove. . .we had to teach her how to turn it on.

The things I saw and did still boggle my mind, and most of the time it feels like a dream. Everything was completely opposite of my comfortable existence in my little Midwestern town, or even my exciting life in Kentucky over the winter and spring. Different then the long days ministering at Wind River, high in the gorgeous Rocky Mountains, where our biggest inconvenience was bad WiFi signal. In Thailand I slept on floors and endured heat like I've never before experienced. My ankles, legs, and arms were covered with insanely itchy welts from mosquito bites. I wept over children sold as sex slaves and talked one-on-one with a prostitute who said "no, I don't like my job. . .but it's the only way I can support my mother. Someday. . .things will be different." The Red Light distract mainly attracts white male tourists from America and Europe.

The love I felt from the beautiful people of Thailand will always be in my heart. A short week in the US. . .and I was back to full-time ministry on the ranch. Folks, I'm exhausted. And I'm done complaining or wishing things were different. Yeah I still fully, 100% believe that if you have a dream you have to work hard to achieve it, and success isn't going to magically drop from the sky. But everything for a season, and learning to be a Mary in a Martha world is REAL.

So many things in this world I wanna do
And when I die I want to know you did them too. 

Go.