It ended sooner than I thought it would- the honeymoon phase I mean, where everything is exciting and new and feels like the greatest adventure ever. Where your team seems almost flawless and you can’t imagine being torn apart in a few months. Where spending time in the word every day is effortless, because you feel closer to God than ever before. Where life seems thrilling and crazy and new.
Then, all of a sudden, you are on a moto in Vietnam whizzing through the city with new friends and you have to remind yourself to care. What is that?! No one told me this would happen- but it did, and I hate that.
That bright-eyed and bushy tailed, optimistic look of wonder and awe left my team sometime during our endless week in Kuala Lumpur. I’m not sure if it was the restlessness of being holed up in a hostel when we felt like we should be doing ministry, access to the Internet that swallowed our time and focus, or if the adventure and newness simply wore off into normal, everyday life, but we became apathetic both with each other and the Lord-at least I did.
Maybe I didn’t expect real life to follow me here. Maybe I expected the race to feel exciting and thrilling every moment. Maybe I expected to be new and changed as soon as I stepped off the plane onto foreign soil. Maybe I freaked out a little when, sitting in Malaysia I realized apathy somehow turned into depression and anxiety- something I didn’t expect to happen across the globe.
Whatever the reason was, it felt like I spent the first two months of the Race sprinting towards Jesus and then, without any warning at all, my feet stopped moving and I toppled over. Except, instead of taking His hand and getting up to continue moving towards Him, I sat. And sat. And sat, and soon enough it felt like home again, slipping into the comfortable darkness that held me for so long.
I stopped being intentional with my team, not even caring that feedback and team time didn’t happen everyday or that when it did, it seemed like a chore. I stopped spending the hours a day with the Lord that I grew accustomed to in Changlun and settled for a few verses here and there and then none at all. I stopped fighting panic with prayer and worship and let it steal my breath and my thoughts. I sat and wondered why this all didn’t feel adventurous anymore and never considered it was because all I was doing was sitting.
It was only a couple of weeks, but it sort of felt like years that I wasted…
The truth, I am realizing, is that adventure is out there, but we have to choose to live it. Adventure doesn’t happen to us, even if we move across the world to find it. It doesn’t matter where we are, we have to choose it every single day. And sometimes we have to fight for it.
I don’t have this all figured out yet. In fact, this morning was the first time I’ve spent real, meaningful time with Jesus in weeks, but I know that something has to change. I don’t know how to handle this depression and anxiety or apathy and weariness perfectly. I don’t know how to get excited about feedback every day or how to fight for my team, when I am barely fighting for myself. I don’t know how to make the transition from the thrill of the honeymoon phase of the Race to the more long-lasting, fulfilling adventure of the commitment to choose love and adventure in every moment.
I’m learning that adventure isn’t a feeling. True adventure is loving and being loved by the God who put the stars in the sky and a beat in my heart. It is realizing that the adventure of that kind of love is steady even when I’m sad or anxious or apathetic.
This morning, as I read the Word and talked to Jesus, He showed me that I can’t do this adventure alone, but that I need Him every single morning to pull me out of bed, strip me of apathy, and clothe me with strength, joy, peace, and readiness to serve and to live the greatest adventure-the only one worth choosing, living, and fighting for-the one He planned just for me.
Adventure is out there….will you choose it?
