Sometimes I like to look at my journey from an outsider’s perspective.
For example, I wonder how the kids in the endless schools my team visit feel when a bunch of foreigners pile in, interrupting their routine.
In the Philippines, we went in pairs from classroom to classroom, telling kids our stories. Sharing with them as the Lord leads… and He usually told me to not hold back- to share the hard bits as well as the good, baring my soul for these kids in the hopes that, if they relate, they might be able to feel seen and understood.
Repeat, over and over, for weeks.
It was good… but exhausting. I never want my testimony to become something I’m detached from, I always want to be emotionally invested because it’s not just my story, but, even better, it’s the story of how God intervened and provided for me. I never want to take my story for granted- but saying it over and over forced me to detach emotionally- you can only take so much in a given day.
When I heard we were going to be visiting classrooms our last week in Ukraine, I was expecting the same thing. I wasn’t too excited, to say the least.
However, our hosts had something different in mind. Due to the difference in the roles religion plays in the school system, instead of sharing our testimony, we were asked to talk about America and our time abroad. We were able to work Jesus into the conversation, but our assigned purpose wasn’t to “convert,” just to talk and practice conversational English.
I had a lot of fun! The kids were prepared with questions and I loved answering them. I was very talkative, excited to share my experiences and ask them questions. Most of the kids were engaged, but there were always a few kids who sat quietly in the back.
I understand those kids- I was one of those kids. If a bunch of strangers walked into my classroom, I would’ve been one to sit back and observe, not jump into the fray.
On my last day of classes, one girl was particularly uninterested. She was on her phone the entire time and it seemed like the teacher wasn’t too interested in making her participate. At the end of class, we were headed out the door- rushing to our next class when she stopped me. She had been drawing a picture of me during class. I felt so special. I told her what a fabulous artist she was and asked if I could take a photo of her picture. She excitedly said yes.
I gave her a hug and she asked me to take a selfie with her. I did and then I rushed to my next class.
The small things make me feel like a rock star sometimes. I’ve had a year of interactions with people I will never see again and that is still as hard as it was the first time… but these small interactions are what I will remember most about the Race.
