What it means to take up your home in Christ…
It could mean that one month you live in a 5-story, 8 roomed building (that figure is deceiving…these bedrooms are not like the ones we have at home, 6 of them would be considered the size of most nice bathrooms in the states, you know the ones with the his and her sinks. The other two are the only thing comparable to a room back in the states…but for these, think
rectangle instead of square), with 25 Cambodia women
already living there plus the additional 9 women who are on your team. It could mean having 6 bathrooms, but none that are fully functioning. It could mean peeing in the dark, with no toilet paper, and wet floors because the place you pee is also where you are expected to shower.
(*pictured here are my KEENS; walking around the world in style since month ONE!)
It could mean that if you are lucky enough to have a sink, you might as well not, because underneath the drain where you typically find piping to take away all the nastiness that goes down it; is instead just open space. This means that all the toothpaste you just spat into the sink bowl is now un-expectantly on your foot. It could also mean that when you finally get the chance to lay your head down on your pillow (and your 30 plus roommates get quiet enough to even consider that), ants are also joining the party.
It could mean that another month you live in the middle of a jungle, where the only people you see in a given stretch of days are your hosts (a husband and wife duo) and the choice people that work on the planation (and by that I mean 3-4 people). It could mean that rats, lizards, and bugs are your most common guests. It could mean you regularly find turds on your tabletop and stove burners. It could mean that every morning around 5 am the dogs start uncontrollably barking and there is pretty much nothing you can do to make them stop. It could mean that from the sweat pouring hours of 11 am to 2:30 pm the generator isn’t on yet, so all you can do is wait until the clocks strikes three. It could mean that due to old age or poor construction, the home you live in is not resistant to the rainy season, thus mold quickly infiltrates all of your belongings.
In short, when you decide to make Jesus, and only Jesus, your home; your living conditions can look like pretty much anything. When I signed up for the race, I didn’t realize what rights I was committing to giving up. Hot showers and comfortable beds, sure I can handle loosing those for a year (not my breaking point, but certainly somebody else’s). But not enough working bathrooms just so I can pee when I have to or a quiet refuge to relax and rest, now that’s pushing the limits. I guess I didn’t really think about what it would look like to give those things up because I’ve always just expected to have them.
And what’s worse, I presumed I deserved to have them too.
We are getting to that point in the race where we really have to choose to be here. The novelty of leaving the 
comforts of home in order to travel all around the world just doesn’t feel the same heading into month 5 as it did month 1. The thrill I used to get from the idea of living in some random village, where your dinner tastes like feet and the accommodations include being eaten alive by mosquitos, just doesn’t catch my fancy the way it once did. I’d prefer the fully stocked hotel, thank you very much. But of course, that rarely what happens.
Instead the reality is what I mentioned above. Nothing close to glamorous, in fact darn near close to primitive (ok maybe I'm being a little dramatic…but go with me), but still a remarkably, incredible privilege.
(*The view from our front door window in Malaysia)
Now you might be saying, what the heck! How can you turn this around and say it is a gift? You just spent an entire page formulating a very specific list of complaints regarding how you are asked to live. And had I finished writing this blog all in one sitting, I too would have been scoffing at this conclusion. However, when I took the time to bring it to Jesus, things got a lot clearer.
What I’ve committed to do for 11 months of my life, Jesus did his entire lifetime. Even from the day he was born, he was a guest in someone else’s home (and of course that is being liberal, since he was actually born in a barn…fit for animals not even people). He knew better than anyone what it meant to be without a home. And as a result, I’m sure he would have had a list 10 times longer than mine of all the crazy things he had to endure while on the road. But even still he continued to follow the Father. Sure, there were plenty of times Jesus probably would have liked a different option.
Take John 16:12 for example. Jesus is talking to the Disciples, his chosen followers, the ones he so dearly loves; and he has to tell them that he will be leaving them soon. He is asked to say goodbye to them even though there is so much more he wants to tell them. How his heart must have been breaking as he spoke these words. But still, he chose to follow.
Then again we see Jesus in Gethsemane, broken and overwhelmed but desperately praying to the Lord, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will (Matt. 26:39)” In lamens terms, if there is another way that is still ordained by you, but doesn’t involve my crucifition, please tell me. Please tell me if there is some option that doesn’t involve me leaving all my loved ones. But God’s design was final, and so Jesus chose to follow once again.
It is only now, having been on this race for five months that I can begin to fathom what a sacrifice that was.
The World Race is like having a small, I mean very small, taste of all that. And it is hard. But how humbling to know that Jesus was willing to do all that and so much more for us. That he would come to earth; live like us, love like us, and then be willing to say goodbye to it all and die for us. How better do I understand him now that I have gotten a taste of the life he faithfully decided to live. How obedient was Jesus that in all that hardship, he still chose to follow His Father in everything. How then could I not obey His call?
The truth is, as much as I miss things at home or get frustrated with the rights and freedoms I’ve been asked to give up, I have it pretty easy. The race has its moments, of course. But overall, I end each day realizing just how favored I really am. For some, the life I’m complaining about is something they will never escape. And for many, practicing Christianity in a free and accepting community is something that is only dreamed about.
Last month in Malaysia, I met natives who chose to be Christians at a high price. If they would have continued to be practicing Muslims then they would have enjoyed a life where a house in the city comes for free along with other incentives to boot. However, because they chose Christianity, they were forced to live out in the jungle in poverty, risking both their safety and their chance at an education. Even here in Cambodia, when Khamer people choose to become Christians, their whole life changes. Not only are they disappointing their family and village (whom are made up entirely of Buddhists), but they are also agreeing to leave their home and everything they know because Christianity is only practiced in the big cities. What sacrifices they have made for the Lord.
(*This is what the houses look like for those who choose Christianity: minimal and secluded)
But even still, they always say it was worth it.
What I am doing here on the race is in no way close to the boldness these believers live in each and every day. But at least for the first time in my life I can proudly say I am following the Lord’s lead. Thus, it is with great honor that I can now say, I have joined the ranks of those dedicated followers and I have chosen to walk in Jesus’ footsteps!
