My Identity Was Put Away With My Backpack.

It feels like it's been years since I've actually sat down to write out my heart. 

In reality, it's only been a couple months. 

Still, here I am. 

With everything to say and no words to say it. 

I've been home for almost four months. 

That'll officially be the longest I have been in one place for the last two years of my life. 

I suppose you could say I've been a little restless lately. 

I am content with where I am, I am my normal, joyful self most days.

But I can't seem to ever shut my brain off. 

I'm constantly daydreaming of far off lands where I can pour in and love people. 

I dream of walking the streets in Thailand, speaking life over everyone I come in contact with.

I dream of squad leading one of the upcoming World Race squads. 

I dream of leading another Passport trip. 

I dream of leaving Canada for longer than I did last time. 

Being home has been incredible in so many ways. 

I can't even begin to describe how much favour has been poured out on me in this season. 

But home is a scary concept for me. 

I have a big girl job that I can't just quit.

I have bills that tie me down.

People are relying on me to be here. 

In Calgary. 

And I don't know if I'm ready to be here. 

Here scares me. 

And my usual reaction to things that scare me is to run. 

Run as far and as fast as I can. 

I've ran from everything hard in my life. 

On the race, I couldn't physically run, so I would mentally escape through the back door.

Check out before anyone even realized what I was doing. 

And I realized today, I do the exact same thing here. 

I don't know how to live in Canada anymore.

I don't know what it's like to be a "normal" Canadian. 

Sure, I go through the motions and can function day to day just fine. 

But on the inside, I feel like I'm wandering through someone else's life. 

Most days, I feel like a foreigner in my own country.

I mean, I still get excited about ice cubes and washing machines. 

So I check out. 

I dream of places far, far away. 

Places that may be uncomfortable physically, but are more comfortable spiritually and emotionally. 

And that's when it hit me. 

The reason I look up every trip imaginable is because I'm more comfortable living overseas than am here. 

I know missions.

I can do missions.

But I don't know how to do home.

I know who World Race Allison is.

I know who Passport Leader Allison is. 

I don't know who Home Allison is yet. 

And instead of trying to find a way to build in and really set roots, 

I've been clawing through everyone's best intentions to get on the next flight out of here. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't want to run anymore. 

I know that I am called to missions. 

I know eventually I'll be in Thailand, or China, or Africa, or Europe. 

But right now, I need to spend time figuring out who the hell I am without a backpack.