After being accepted to The World Race I did as much I could to prepare myself for what I would be experiencing the next year. I read blogs, watched vlogs, worked out, spent time with the Lord, you name it. When I left, I left knowing that I did everything I could to be prepared. Of course I knew that along the way, these 11 months would bring trials that I wasn’t prepared for, and that was okay. But I didn’t know to what extent.
Since being on the race, the Lord has carried me through things I wouldn’t have guessed I would be going through.
Month two, Malawi, is where I got my first glimpse into what it meant to trust God when the race throws you a curve ball. I had been feeling under the weather for a couple weeks, however my symptoms were getting severely worse. I couldn’t sleep, I had completely lost my appetite, I had difficulty breathing, I lost a lot of weight, I was coughing up blood on multiple occasions, my limbs were going numb, and I was losing control of my motor skills. Basic tasks were becoming challenging, and I had no answers as to why. After weeks of waiting and praying that the symptoms would go away, my team told me I needed to go to the hospital, no questions asked. The next morning my teammate and I headed to the government hospital in Nkata Bay, Malawi. They ran some tests, but the tests didn’t tell me what was causing my sickness. The next day they sent me to another hospital an hour away. There they ran more tests, blood work, breathing tests, malaria test, ultrasound, the works. They narrowed it down to Tb and/or pneumonia, however that wasn’t the alarming news that left me speechless. The doctor sat me down and went over my ultrasound results. He said I had a mass that could potentially be breast cancer, but he couldn’t tell me for sure without performing further tests. He said that either way it was very harmful and it needed immediate attention. He said he wanted to schedule me for surgery to remove the mass.
So there I was, in Africa, thinking I was going to the hospital to simply get some antibiotics. Instead, I leave finding out I might have breast cancer, and need surgery immediately.
Skip forward a week.
I’m back in Hungary after deciding to go home for further treatment and hospital visits to consult with more doctors.
Two weeks, a lot of prayer, and multiple discussions later I made the difficult decision to return to the field and meet back up with my squad to finish what I started, despite what the doctors advised. I knew the trials weren’t over, but the Lord gave me peace about it.
Little did I know, it wouldn’t be the end of hospital visits for me.
Pyin Oo Lwin, Myanmar, May 11.
At 4 am I woke up with a sharp pain in my right side. I thought the Burmese food just wasn’t agreeing with me. Then 7 am rolled around and after talking with my team we decided it would be better to go to the hospital just to be safe. After waiting an hour or so and going to two different hospitals I finally got in to see the doctor. He said I needed an ultrasound immediately. After lying on a creaky bed, with weird cold goop all over my stomach, with the doctors pointing at a screen and speaking a language that I didn’t understand, he finally filled me in. The answer was simple; appendicitis. At first I was relieved, I was happy they knew what was wrong because then they would know what to do and how to fix it, but little did I know what the next 5 days would hold for me.
The next five days I would have to rely on God in a huge way. I knew if I didn’t ask for strength from Him I wouldn’t be able to get through it. After having emergency surgery I stayed in the hospital for 4 days. Due to the surgery and needing three IV’s (due to complications) I couldn’t move hardly at all and needed to rely on my team to do pretty much everything for me.
Day three is when I finally broke. I was in a third-world country, away from home, away from family, away from people who could actually tell me what was going on in my own language. I was mentally and physically drained and in severe pain. I was sleep-deprived, uncomfortable, and tired of being poked and prodded at. I was done.
That night I stayed awake for hours. Nurses would come in to check on my stitches, temperature, and make sure my IV wasn’t filling up with blood again. They came in like clock-work. There was nothing to do, nowhere to go; I could only pray.
I prayed this.
“Lord, you see me and you know me. You know exactly what I’m going through and whats happening, even though sometimes I myself don’t. I am broken, and I need You to give me the strength to surrender all this to You, because I can’t handle it on my own. I won’t get through this unless I rely on You and trust that your ways are far better than my own. Give me the strength to use this for Your glory. Give me peace and joy that can only come from You, so that when people see me and this situation, they actually see You and Your goodness. I pray that through my actions they see You. May they see that because of your power I am not a victim, but a victor. Even when I feel like You’re pushing me over the edge, I trust that Your plan is flawless and You will be there to catch me if I fall. Lord, put people in my path that You want me to talk to. Make it so evident that I couldn’t shy away from the opportunity even if I wanted to. Use this time, use this situation, use me!
Thank You for who You are and everything You do. Thank You for carrying me when I can’t carry myself. Thank You for giving me peace, and the strength to get through it. Thank You for trusting me with something like this.”
As I prayed I felt an overwhelming sense of peace from the Lord. I felt His reassurance that He was going to get me through it, and use it in some way, all I needed was to be patient and trust.
That next day, as my team was out getting food I was sitting in my hospital room watching Modern Family. (great show, but awful if you just came out of surgery and it hurts to laugh.) My surgeon came in to check up on me, (pretty much the only person that speaks english) and with him were the four nurses that had been looking after me. After we discussed my situation he then started asking me about why I was there in Myanmar.
God is so good, and He answers prayers. That conversation led to me being able to share the gospel with the doctor, and through him translating, I was able to share it also with the nurses.
God broke me, and restored me. He gave me the strength and the opportunity to use my situation to share the gospel with five people who had never heard the name of Jesus before.
He can use every situation, good or bad, easy or hard, for His glory if you let Him.
Later that day I got a call from my squad mentor, Beka, asking how I was doing and if I should/wanted to go home. Honestly, if she had called a day earlier, I would have been so tempted to say “yea, maybe,” but after feeling the Lords peace, and seeing and being a part of His plan, it was the easiest decision to say “not a chance.”
I’ve asked the Lord countless times to use me as a vessel to do His work, no matter how it may affect me, or the plans I may have for myself. I know His plans may be harder at times, but they are way better.
So here I am, still on the world race even though some say I should be home. I’m staying, because life is crazy no matter where I am. It’s full of things I can’t control and didn’t ask for. I didn’t ask for possible breast cancer at age 21, I didn’t ask to have emergency surgery in a third-world country, but I did ask for God to do something big, and I did ask for Him to show me Himself in those crazy moments and to make something of it. That I did ask for, and that’s what I got.
The Lord is good, and the Lord comforts those who take refuge in Him. No one knows me better than Him, no one’s been a better friend than Him, no one cares for me or carries me better than He does.
God does’t promise us He’ll do everything the way we wanted or imagined, but He does promise us that when we cry out to Him, He will listen and respond. Not always the way we want, but that’s only because His way is better than our own.
That’s why I chose to stay on the race, because I asked for God to open the door for me to share the hope He has given me with those who don’t have it.
That’s why I stay.
