The mural above the stairs leading to my bedroom punches me in the metaphorical gut every time I climb the steps.
Thailand has been a month of intense outreach, assertiveness, lengthy days, and radical self-discovery. A lot gets revealed in a woman when you put her in the 110-degree Asian summer with full sunshine for hours on end. This month has been a time when several people have pulled up a chair, simply to sit with me and chat about the vision for my, well, life. And if I've ever met someone worthy of speaking authoritatively on vision, it's our host, Pi Emmi.
Emmi is a force of nature. The first morning we woke up at Zion Hostel, she spent close to six hours orienting our teams on ministry logistics and telling us her story.
Emmi founded Lighthouse in Action several years ago, and it was the manifestation of a dream years in the making. At three years old, she watched her father murder her mother in front of her eyes.
(Just let that fact sink in for a minute. Are you aware in this moment that you have something to be thankful for?)
Following this tragedy, she was raised in abject poverty by grandparents as a village outcast, and was eventually given over to the care of a visiting Christian missionary who challenged her to make something of her life.
Today, her cafe downstairs gives jobs to girls who have been rescued out of sex trafficking, and our team gets to play a part in doing just that. Emi's dream took years to realise, but she's waking up every day and turning the wheels, making that dream happen.
I woke up today and was faced with a reality of a different sort: after barely being published 24 hours, the book our squad wrote while in the Philippines during Month Seven needed to be removed from distribution immediately.
Something about host relations, communication, and timing. I spent a short part of the morning on the phone with our squad mentor, who broke the news, and the better part of the morning hiding in the corner of a local diner, processing it all.
Two and a half months of work, editing, planning. All the sleep both lost and willingly sacrificed. All the free time spent doing read-throughs and carefully catching every stray word before correcting it and setting it back in its rightful place.
This was never "my" project, although at times I definitely acted like it was. Everything about the process of writing and editing a book brought me to life. People thanking me for my help was weird - like thanking someone for eating a chocolate ice cream cone.
No problem, man. Even without your recognition, I'd still be doing this anyway.
And as the dust settled from the fallout and the realization that it was all over, that the book very well may go away forever, all I could think about was the amount of time and effort gone to waste.
And guys, I hate wasting my time.
If I see that a relationship, a plan or a Netflix show isn't going anywhere, I have no trouble cutting my losses and not looking back.
But this was different. My heart was sunk deep into this book. Our squad spent weeks writing it and had been waiting much longer for it to be published. Giving up would mean I'd failed.
Or did it?
Respect, honor and kindness. These words have been bumping around the inside of my head non-stop for the last 48 hours. They're funny concepts, because they only achieve real value status once applied under less-than-ideal situations. But as a friend of Jesus, displaying them is not optional. Even when they're not deserved. Even when I'd rather not - because God knows I've been on the receiving end of all three when I deserved them the least. And love isn't love unless it costs the giver something.
Stay committed in your decisions, but flexible in your approach says Tony Robbins, some guy whose organization spams my email inbox on a daily basis. One of my friends says his goal for the year is to "Change the plan, not the end goal".
It's good to know what you're willing to fight for.
And it's good to fight for something.
It's also good to know when to stop.
Following the few necessary conversations and deciding to pull the book, I went out for coffee with one of my squad-mates. We've been casually tossing around the idea of writing a book together - a totally separate project - chronicling our entire 11 months on the Race.
The voice in my head instructing me to begin again grew louder in volume.
As of today, project Czarina and Vegan Farmer Co-op Barbie Write a Novella (working title) has officially begun.
Five days ago, I submitted some articles ideas to an online magazine. Two days ago, Elite Daily accepted me as a contributing writer.
And in case I've forgotten, I'm writing this blog from a cafe in Thailand. I'm living and doing ministry in Thailand.
Good things are happening.
Moral of the story (if this blog had to have one):
A vision's failure to launch doesn't always reflect on the value of the dreamer. It's also pointless to sit in the remnant. There's a world outside armed to the teeth with color, texture and sound, waiting to be spun into existence.
Every creative setback is just an opportunity to redirect that anger and frustration back into the creative process. Resistance and failure are powerful motivators.
Keep moving forward.