There I was, sitting in a room that was every bit of 100 degrees. With no power for the 36th straight hour, the India heat and humidity were really getting the best of me — and it was only 6:40 a.m.
I sat uncomfortably in a broken white plastic chair, pondering why I had decided to put myself through what this seeming hell. Questions and doubt filled my mind as I grew increasingly frustrated by my decision to submit to 11 months of living in some of the most challenging places on earth. “Why are you so shortsighted, Kevin?” I asked myself.
My teammates phone alarms began to go off, only intensifying my discomfort and anger. It was time to shovel more of the same Indian food down my throat for the 15th day in a row. I wrestled with the idea of returning home to America while I consumed the food that had been placed on my plate by our ministry host.
One of my biggest supporters since beginning my journey on the field in Albania has been Daniel Chantlos. Daniel works in the Adventures office as a Logistics Manager for multiple different squads traveling the globe. I knew if there was someone who could talk sense to me in that moment would be him. As a Logistics Leader for R squad, Daniel and I work together along with my two partners Alex and Brad to ensure travel for the squad is seamless. Because of this, I’ve been blessed to have had many no bull, straight up conversations with this man who I greatly respect.
I sat down and wrote out my weekly Celebration and Challenge form to send to Daniel. I mentioned how I had been struggling with the idea of going home. The race in that moment, just didn’t feel like it was right for Kevin Striegle and specifically the impact I had made through four and a half months of ministry. C&C completed, I E-Mailed it to Daniel through our sloth-like Internet.
Shortly after, I found myself on the back of an auto-rickshaw that would soon drop us off at a baptismal service. Stopping on the side of the Indian National Highway, we climbed off and walked down the rubbish-ridden hill. I was sweating and mad that we had to be out so early doing ministry. Looking around at all the trash on the bank, I learned that we would be performing the baptisms ourselves, in the stagnant water underneath the highway bridge.
Candace, the wife of my teammate Myers, and an inspirational teammate herself, shared what baptism mean within the word of God. She explained how excited the team was, that the people being baptized were openly showing their personal acceptance and love for Jesus Christ.
Standing on the bank of the river, legs straddling a large pile of water buffalo dung, I felt something inside me begin to change. We sang a song for the 20 some local’s gathered and I looked around at the smiling faces. I had only gotten hotter and somehow sweatier, but yet more at peace and joyful than I had been in weeks.
Myers and Owen, my team leader, did the first two baptisms, before our translator Shaka called me to the water. He invited me by saying, “take care brother,” as I waded in. Stepping blindly off the edge of the bank and into the muddy brown water, my corduroys seemed to suddenly weigh 200 pounds.
For the first two times in my life, I said, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Buried with Christ in baptism. Raised to walk in newness of life.”
I prayed for the man and woman whom I baptized on the shore alongside the highway. In my soaking wet pants and button up dress shirt, we loaded onto the rickshaw and were whisked away. Much to my own annoyance, I found a smile stealing across my face.
A few hours later, we were en-route to ministry in a distant village. Myers and Candace were taking a much-deserved night off as married couples are encouraged to do. Owen, Jamie, Jessica and I sat quietly on the rickshaw as we traveled through the rice fields and into another dark Indian night.
