I feel like I owe an apology to anyone and everyone who has read my blogs, seen my pictures, and heard second-hand what I’ve been up to*.I know it looks like I’m having a blast, and I thank you for taking time to comment on my photos and tell me about the “trip of a lifetime” I’m currently on. But what you don’t know is that I’ve been lying to you the entire time. The World Race is not fun, it’s not all zebra encounters and coffee dates, and it’s by no means a vacation. Sure, it’s most likely a once in a lifetime opportunity. But that’s only because no one in their right mind would do it twice (shout out to my SQLs Justin and Crystal).
Truths About My World Race:
I’ve been insanely pained by constipation for the last two days and couldn’t even leave the bathroom for the four before that.
We eat more carbohydrates per day than I’ve eaten in my entire adult life. The struggle to choke down nshima is real.
I have cussed more in the last three weeks than I did the entire first four months of the race. Why? All the damn flies.
My feet are covered in sand at all times, therefore, my bed is covered in sand at all times.
Adventure days are few and far between, and most of our free time is spent trying to find a cafe with enough wifi connection to send an email to my parents, whom I haven’t actually spoken to all month.
I’m constantly dehydrated because the amount of water our bodies actually need is unavailable because the closest store is 1.5 miles away and it’s just not possible to go buy enough water jugs every day to keep all seven of us hydrated.
Christmas is soon and I’m dreading it.
I want foods that don’t exist on this continent.
I cried in a taxi three days ago because it had air-conditioning.
The amount of people and children I’ve given my heart to over the last five months makes me feel like I have nothing left to give.
But this is the World Race.
Don’t for a second believe that being a missionary is easy. In fact, God promises that it is one of the hardest jobs you can choose to say yes to. We’re called to give our hearts away; honestly they’re not really ours in the first place. Each day I feel like I have nothing left to give, yet my cup is filled again with every new face I encounter as the Lord’s plan is fulfilled with my presence in this country. No, I don’t have the luxuries I used to like having a shower curtain or space to be alone. But with the hardship comes blessing, and that’s what I signed up for.
The things I’ve learned about myself and about Jesus in this first half of the race (yes, we are officially halfway) are simply indescribable. All of the truth He has spoken over me through His word, teammates, hosts, strangers, and His spirit in me have been more than enough to keep me going, standing on the calling to be here. I’ve learned that I have passion. That my future is not dependent on my achievements. That it’s not I who has to somehow master the art of patience when dealing with flies in my room, but that it’s a virtue already instilled in me and I am simply called to choose into it.
That’s what life is: choosing in. You can choose to count the days until your glorious return home. You can choose to believe this Race is going to be a life-changing adventure, and it definitely is. But adventure doesn’t always lie at the end of a bungee cord. It doesn’t only happen on designated days of the week. It falls somewhere between taking a leap of faith into something unknown and allowing little challenges to shape you each day.
*I would take more photos of our ministry activities but I’ve chosen to be present in the lives of people we’re getting to know, and I believe a camera in their face may be a hindrance. We do a lot of door-to-door ministry and it would be inappropriate.
