By Ella
When I left on my nine-month journey across the world, with nothing but a backpack and a heart of service, I had no idea what lay ahead or what would come from my time on the mission field. I learned so much while I was overseas, about people, myself, culture, the world, and its influences. But one thing stands out the most: friendship.
There is something so beautifully inconvenient about sharing life with eight other girls for nine months in a foreign country.
It’s not glamorous. It’s not Instagram-worthy. It’s chicken throat curry for the fourth day in a row in Malaysia. It’s mosquito bites, culture shock, and praying through language barriers. It’s passing around a stomach bug and still managing to laugh and crack jokes through it. It’s learning that community isn’t just something you have. Community is something you practice.
The World Race, the program I participated in, is designed to foster community. The “squad”—all the people launching at the same time under the same leadership—is divided into “teams,” smaller groups that you travel with, do ministry with, and live life with. My team consisted of nine girls, including me. And we were not the group of people you’d probably choose to be on a team. We came from different paths in life, different states, with very different personalities, and yet we were united by one purpose and one love.
It stretched my definition of friendship. It’s not just shared interests. It’s choosing each other over and over again. It’s patience, confession, forgiveness, humility, and the kind of laughter that heals something deep inside you. It’s genuine. It’s not the highlight reel. It’s the messy masterpiece.
Together, we met elephants in Thailand. We walked down dirt roads to find coffee shops and internet access. We taught line dances to Thai children and led Sunday school in the slums of Sungai Petani. We baked cookies and had movie nights. We taught preschool classes and prepared skits. We sang Christmas songs in a small Thai village. We endured 12-hour train rides and 20-hour flights. We painted together. Grocery shopped together. Planned women’s events together. Sat front row to support someone sharing a testimony. Faced the cold rejection of someone who wasn’t open to conversation—together. We nursed each other back to health. Hiked mountains and marveled at beautiful skies. We spent birthdays together. We went cliff diving together. Walked through rows of art museums. Got tattooed. Got stuck in Greece. Woke up at 5 a.m. to cook breakfast in the villages.
We shared beds.
We prayed.
We worshipped.
We cried.
And we laughed.
I could tell many, many more stories about these girls and our endless adventures. And that’s what it is, endless. Because though our trip may be over, and we are once again spread across different states and lives, our friendship is not defined—nor confined—by time or space. And now that my life is forever changed by my wonderful team, my best friends, I get to learn a new lesson:
There is something so beautifully inconvenient about sharing your life with eight other girls who now live on the other side of the country.
I miss them dearly. But I am so blessed to still get to live life with them—even if it’s in snapshots.
Thank God for FaceTime.
