I am not one who wanted to live in the past, but find myself there. I live in the town my grandparents grew up in, living in my great aunt’s house. I used to work at the church my mother grew up and eventually attended the church my grandparents grew up in. I currently work for the university I attended, in the department I graduated from. I am really trying to break free from that this year.
Despite this, there are some things in my own past I will never escape. Something I will carry with me for the rest of my life. It’s not some deep regret or dark secret. In fact, it is nothing bad. It is my travels.
When I say travels, I don’t mean vacation, or playing tourist, or anything like that. I was out of the country for 10 months between 2013 and 2014 as a missionary. This wasn’t some trip where I am taking selfies with orphans (I seriously hate it when people do that). I was working as a documentary filmmaker for a missions organization.