One of my fears going into this trip centered around the condition of my heart. I was afraid that my heart was too broken and bruised to really be able to give anything. For so long my prayer was that God would just keep my heart alive, so I wondered if I would be able to put myself in a place where I would be pouring out love on others – people who are suffering, lost, and broken. Is my heart even worth sharing?
I knew I didn't want to let this get in the way of following such a calling as this. And as the trip approached I settled it in my mind that I would not hold back in loving others as Christ loves them. I would not be afraid to let my heart break for these people.
In my first month on The World Race, I have no more fear of letting that love pour out. I haven't even had to think about it. I can't help it. When I see children running excitedly out of the orphanage, when they cling to me and lift out their hands to be held, I don't even have to think about whether or not to open my heart up to them.
When seeing an elderly woman get down on her hands and knees and weep, I don't have to think twice about kneeling next to her and sharing in her heartache.
I've realized that it's not so much about whether my heart is worthy of sharing as it is about the people I meet along the way who are worthy of sharing my heart with.
