If you asked me to be honest

I miss you so much.

Nostalgia has been hitting really hard lately. My mom just sent me a package full of clothes and when pulling back the card board and peeling off the tape I was hit with familiarity in a pair of pants I wore almost everyday on my race, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t shed a little tear. Because truth is, the Race holds so much of me, that anything nostalgic about it brings me to such a tender place with the Lord. 

And then in a matter of hours I turned on Spotify and was hit with a song that brought me back to a time of wonder and love, Outnumbered by Dermot Kennedy. Ah, hello again Kazakhstan. 

In a moment I was transported back to one of my favorite months on the World Race. My month three was so full. The ministry, our home, the rhythms, everything about it I miss and I want to explain why.. because honestly I think I left pieces of myself there that I’ll never get back. Pieces that belong there, forever. So, relive it with me.

My bed was an inch pad on the floor in the corner of the room between the fridge and heater. I could see the moon through the window from my pillow. I always kept my notebook right next to my head with all my stickers and markers in case I had a late night thought, and wow did I have them often. I chose the floor this month, you know to die to my flesh, but little did I know that, that little space I had created would be carried with me to this day, I miss that little apartment so much. I miss you. 

There was a little market near our home that was filled with anything you could imagine, the cashiers started to recognize us and we’d laugh and chat each time we would enter the door, “The American!!” I’d always pick up my favorite peanuts from the counter after translating how many kilos I wanted that day by pointing and nodding. Yes, kilos, they were so yummy. Michaela and I found 25 cent sparkling waters that became our life lines, and we were greeted with warmth every time we’d step in. Wow, I miss you. 

The church was down the street, the opposite way of the market and the church was my favorite place. It was cozy and welcoming, and at the same time is was mysterious and empty, if that even makes sense. There was a kitchen in the basement we used a lot, making food for the shelter, or for our dinner, a lot of laughs were had there, sitting around a big table welcoming each others company. Bible studies in window sills, laughing with children and drinking lots of Chai and eating lots of biscuits. I miss you. 

Every morning I’d walk to the coffee shop, Bravo. I’d get an Americano for 50 cents, and an apple from the local market man. I treasured those morning walks, those morning calls back home, and the welcoming of a new day. The shop was full of fresh baked goods that looked straight out of a magazine, and I’d go back for just the smells. Even writing about it now, I am transported back to a time of warmth, love and excitement, it’s almost heartbreaking to go back to this place in my mind. So much happened there, bible studies, blogs, falling in love, meeting new people, FaceTimes that I still recall almost daily. I thank God a lot for that coffee shop, it holds so much that honestly, a piece of my heart will always belong to that little place. I miss you. 

Kazakhstan was filled with the most amazing youth group that my team and I got so close with, like a family. From ice skating days to visiting the homeless at the garbage dump, we became family. We’d play sports, watch movies together, share meals and do ministry all as one. I became so close with the mentors and the people, they became my family away from home, I was always greeted with love, I taught them fun American terms like swag, I painted walls and murals with recovering addicts that gave their hearts to God, I celebrated sobriety with these men and fell in love with their culture and stories. I miss you, so much. 

I thank God for that month, so many times because it taught me so many valuable lessons. It taught me how to fall in love with out limits, to allow myself to give all of me to a place I was going to leave, to love people without the scariness of goodbye, and that a floor bed could remind me so much of who I want to be. I love nostalgic moments, but sometimes I wish in that moment I knew how much it would all matter, how the laughs would stay with me, how the coffee shop memories would stay with me, how the people would influence me and how those little things would become big memories. In Kazakhstan heaven didn’t feel far away anymore, it felt like I was the closest to it I had ever been. 

I think looking back on memories is such a good thing, so thanks for visiting it with me from this very page, thanks for experiencing it with me, God is so tender with me that way. Little moments, the little things, that I hold on to, to remind me that each and every little moment matters and it reminds me that I am built out of all the little moments, and that is how I love, in little bits at a time that eventually have me free falling into a love so deep that I’ll never fall out of it. 

That’s the kind of person I want to be, not just the missionary or wife or leader, I want to be the kind of person that finds value in all the little things, because it will amount to the big stuff. The little things matter, ya know? I found that little pieces of my heart could get lost in all the little things, and I am so grateful for that, I am so grateful for Kazakhstan and I am so grateful that God chose me to experience the magic that is held there. 

I miss you, so much. But how lucky am I to have loved something so deeply to miss this much. Wow, how rad. 

Xo, 

MacKenzie May