I found the following blog in my drafts. I wrote it in Cambodia, about 6 weeks into the race. I’m honestly not sure why I didn’t post it at the time, but as I read it now, I find myself a little ashamed.
Honestly, I’ve let the struggle overcome my spirit. I read this and I remember the incredible sense of hope I felt back then. I remember the joy that pulsed through my veins every moment. I’d never felt so alive.
Until I read this I hadn’t even noticed. I hadn’t noticed the decline in my spirit. The decrease in joy and hope. I thought I was fine – holding strong and steadfast.
But I confess I’ve grown tired. I’ve grown weary. I’ve had days where I’ve lost my sense of purpose, where I’ve felt faithless.
I share this to say that I am human. I am human as the disciples were human.
When Jesus called him, Peter doubted and began to sink into the water (Mt 14:30).
When Jesus was arrested, the disciples deserted him and fled (Mt 26:56).
When Jesus resurrected, Thomas needed to touch Jesus’ wounds to believe (Jn 20:25-28).
Does their doubt make mine okay? No.
But those doubters are who the Lord used to take His love and mercy to the ends of the earth. Those doubters are who the Book of Acts speaks about.
So I’m encouraged. I am encouraged that in realizing my depravity I can be renewed in the hope and joy and love of the Lord and He can use me. He can use me boldly.
And in any moments when I need encouragement, I am reminded of the verse spoken to me back in Cambodia, the verse that brought me so much hope then and still does now:
“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous hand.”
– Isaiah 41:10
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February 22, 2016
I feared that the race would break my heart irreparably. I feared that as my eyes saw the vastness of poverty and pain I would feel defeated. I feared that love and grace and reconciliation would feel too small. I feared I would lose hope.
But instead, I am more encouraged than I could have ever imagined. I am more convinced of the power of love than I would have ever believed.
Yes, I see a hurting world, but I see a world hungry for healing.
Yes, I see poverty, but I see people giving generously and without restraint.
Yes, I see evil and darkness, but I see people fighting.
Love, faith, and hope always have been, and always will be, victorious.
The race has already been everything I prayed it would be:
It has revealed a more accurate depiction of heaven and made me eager to be a part of it.
And it has renewed my childlike belief in the beauty of the world and stoked my desire to be a part of bringing heaven to earth.
