Am I prepared ?

Have you ever found yourself asking, “Why am I here?”

Why did this happen? What am I supposed to learn from this stage of my life?

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I’ve always believed that everything in my life prepares me for something I don’t yet know or see—every tear, laugh, heartbreak, smile, and victory.

Now, I can finally see that the last few years have been preparing me for this journey.

In the summer of 2019, I stepped onto Southern Arkansas University’s campus—a small school in a small town. I was utterly distraught. I couldn’t understand why God had brought me to a place where all I met was isolation and boredom.

No movie theater, no bowling alley, no skating rink, no Southern Classic, no Canes, no good wings, no Southern Maid, and definitely no decent crawfish.

I was bored out of my mind. I went home almost every weekend that first year—until I finally made friends, integrated into the community, found peace within myself, learned to enjoy my own company, and found my place both inside myself and within the spaces I occupied. All things that eventually became the core of my coping mechanisms.

And funny enough, that experience was New York City compared to where I am now.

My permanent site for the next two years is more rural than my college town and the training village we’ve lived in for the past three months. But I know without a doubt that if I hadn’t learned how to handle isolation, boredom, and being the outlier—whatever the unnamed differences were—I would’ve been on a plane back to America already.

Because beyond the isolation, loneliness, and new community, you are forced to bridge a severe lack of the things you depend on and understand. That alone is no small feat. I truly can’t imagine having to adjust to a completely new environment and learn to be okay with all the difficult things at the same time, without having been prepared.

Since returning to the training village, three of our original eighteen volunteers have gone home. A few people have told me I’m a kind of “glue” for the education group, and I paused because I didn’t understand how I was suddenly the glue. They explained that the way I handle everything—my energy and calmness—seems to act like a soothing hand.

And that got me thinking: Why am I like that? What has made me this way? What does it stem from?

Because if I believe things happen intentionally… what is this preparing me for? And what has already prepared me?

I’ll do a separate post about my first week at my permanent site, but during the visiting week, I was truly alone—no native English speakers, no everyday comforts.

I had only been there for three days and had already recharged my data five times.

I think what makes me laugh at my circumstances instead of crumbling under them is simple: I know I’ve adjusted before, and I know I’m capable.

And more importantly, I’ve learned that while I am capable, I am not required to endure anything. As my loved ones remind me every time we talk: I can come home at any point. It’s my life, my choice, and I have the tools to go whichever direction I choose. A beautiful thought, really.

So here I am in Lesotho, with tools already in the metaphoric shed—just waiting to be used.

Unlike my first couple of years in college and my first year “in the real world” working for the man, I don’t have to figure out the tools and build them from scratch.

Over the last two years, I’ve learned to go with the flow. Even as a type A personality, I’ve grown to love that about myself. I love that I no longer get flustered when plans change or schedules fall apart. Lesotho exists on its own time. The taxi might drive 20 mph and pick up passengers for two hours. It might storm for a week and ruin my laundry plans. And somehow… it’s still okay.

I used to think God wanted me to have these skills just so I could navigate life better. And in a way, that’s exactly what it was—but also so much more.

A few thoughts.

Khotso

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