Moving forward

I’m starting this post with some news: I’m officially moving! The decision to take a step toward planting roots here, rather than wait for China’s door to open wasn’t an easy one. The fact is, I’ve been waiting to return to China since the day I left on February 1st. What started as a ‘temporary stay’ turned into something resembling permanency. I first thought we’d all be back in our China beds by mid-April (oh, how young and naïve we once were). Then it was May, July, surely September, and lastly, October was when we’d absolutely/most-likely/maybe/definitely not be returning to China. I started by working remotely until my contract was up at the end of May. Then I (im)patiently waited for good news of a return to collect my things and say the proper goodbye we were robbed of. Over the summer the reality of my slowly-but-surely- draining bank account set in, and the reality of the absent plane ticket forced me to make decisions I didn’t want to be put into my own hands. Once I landed in Colorado, I decided to make the most out of the situation by soaking in all the missed family time and fresh mountain air. I was a temporary guest and didn’t mind the destination one bit. But all along it was something I had no control over. I didn’t have a choice, so there was no guilt resting on my shoulders. The decisions I had to make after 9 months of waiting, however, is entirely in my hands and I've struggled deeply with how to make them. I feel like I'm saying goodbye to China all over again. Yet this time, it's of my own doing. I feel like I'm the one abandoning ship and parting ways. Not waiting it out in hope, but cowardly ceasing new opportunities. Over the past few months I’ve had to wrestle with these thoughts and emotions. I still feel that way, but I’m working on it.

This is how I came to my decision to move “permanently” back to the states. (This is in quotations mostly because my heart will always look for ways to return):

1. Necessity. I've truly waited as long as I personally can without a job or space to spread my belongings. (Though I don’t have many, ha!).

2. We don’t know when China will open their doors to US tourist visa holders, and we don’t know when/if they’ll allow new work visas to be granted. What we do know is it probably won’t be anytime in the near-future.

3. Spending 9 months reflecting on my last 3+ years of hard days, real trauma, and pure exhaustion, I’ve realized this “break” might be exactly what I need to work on healing and restoration. No matter how much it hurts to say it.

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”

So where am I moving? That decision was surprisingly pretty easy. Nashville, TN. No, none of my family is there. That’s the hard part. The easy part? A whole lot of my community is. The people who’ve helped shape me these past few years — China framily, adoptive families, and dear dear friends. I get to see babies I’ve loved and taught in China thriving in their families. I get to live with one of my safest and most loyal friends(sisters). I’ll still get to see 4 seasons (…sort of) for my Michigander soul, and I’ll be conveniently central with quick flights to family. It’s safe, sweet, and good. Surrounded by a supportive community and new opportunities, I know I’ll be okay.

Colorado has been my oxygen. The last 9 months my sister and her family have been the thing that makes me smile and want to enjoy each day. They’ve taken me at my most fragile, most bruised, most unstable, and welcomed me with laughter, comfort food and nature. They haven’t minded my scars, and they have treated me like the baby of the family that I am, without forgetting a single inside joke. They listened to my never-ending travel stories, sat through hours of scrolling baby pictures, and endured all of my attempts at Chinese cooking. They have been my life-vest in the midst of drowning. I will forever and ever be grateful for their unending love and support, and for sharing their beautiful Colorado with me. The perfect nephew snuggles, late-night uncontrollable laughter with my sister, and gorgeous snowy peaks are the BEST parts of 2020. Saying goodbye to them will surely be one of the hardest.

Not only did I get to be in one of the best places with some of the best people, but I also was able to visit some of my other favorite places and people over the past few months. I’ve experienced a lot of good, a lot of laughter, long talks, hikes, games and beaches. I didn’t take any of it for granted, and I’m so incredibly grateful for those people of mine and the memories made that turned this strange and scary year into something sacred.

Leaving China was brutal, and deciding to stay was even harder. But I’m trusting this new chapter with a God who loves us like crazy. I wasn’t ready to leave, and I wasn’t ready to stay — but just like the many difficult changes and hurdles I faced in China, I’ll face this one too. I think of the children who I’ve watched in awe wake up each day not knowing their fate. That at any moment their life could be turned upside down, and how they bravely face the changes with true grit. My little world was pulled out from under me a full 9 months ago, and I still feel as if I’m floating in outer space. I don’t feel brave, confident or resilient. I feel lost, unsure, and vulnerable. But those fierce little ones taught me that we’re all capable of facing a new day even with only sliver of strength left within us. That there is goodness and hope in every single day if you look closely. I’m scared of this new chapter. I’m scared of the unknown, of failure and the uncertainty and guilt that I can’t shake. But I know I’ll be okay. I know there will be good, and I know I’m not alone.

“Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.”

I know I'm not the only one who has gone through drastic change and uncertainty this year. Perhaps more than any year ever, we've all experienced similar emotions and experiences to one another. There's a solidarity there that is weirdly comforting. Getting to experience some really wonderful moments in 2020 was unexpected and rare in which a lot of people can't say the same. I'm aware of this, and don't take it lightly. It made those moments that much sweeter knowing they were little diamonds found in a year that looks like a big nasty jagged rock. Everyone is experiencing hard right now. In our own ways, big or small, it's all scary and confusing and utterly exhausting. I'm going to continue to remind myself of this when interacting with others because; in 10 days when I'm making the long drive across several states having just said goodbye to my safety net and best friend, to head into an unknown future, I'll appreciate the kind person at the gas station who smiled at me with their eyes.

“Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, then it's not the end.”

I'm entering into a new part of my story—one that doesn’t include me on the other side of the ocean—but I’m not saying goodbye to it forever. Just saying goodbye for now. I still have a lot of words inside of me, so I’m going to keep writing…but next time it’ll be from a chair in another state. I seriously can’t thank my friends and family enough for getting me this far. I’ll surely still need you moving forward, and the fact that it’s a given you’ll still be right there for me is pure gold. I love you.