It’s Been Worth It.

It’s month nine of the Race.
I’ve been to four continents.
Slept in fourteen countries.

 
I’ve taken dozens of bus rides.
Traveled thousands of miles.
 
Experienced travel days that were more like travel weeks.
Sat through extremely long team times.
Submitted to my authority when that was the last thing I wanted to do.
 
Lunch and dinner, rice and beans, every day, for an entire month.
A slice of bread with butter and sugar is a sufficient breakfast.
I’ve had to swallow my pride and ask squadmates for some food when I wasn’t smart enough to stock up on snacks before an 18 hour bus ride.
 
I’ve gagged at the smell of my own clothes.
I’ve had bodily waste on me more times then I would care to admit.
(Surprise, there’s a good chance if you hold a naked African baby, it’ll pee on you.)
Taken showers that were more like a rinse with cold water from a bucket.

I’ve never been so dirty.
I’ve never been so tired.
 
But, man, I’ve never been so alive.
 
I’ve never been so aware that each day is a gift.
I’ve never appreciated the beauty of silence more.
I’ve never had so many surreal moments.
 
A couple days ago, I was sitting on a straw mat holding a precious toddler from our village in Northern Uganda. I rested my head against the wall and turned my head to the right and scanned the array of huts. Red brick circular walls with dried grass as roofs, no doors. I was spending a few seconds on each hut, but stopped when I realized there was a cow just hanging out in one of the huts. I tilted my head up and laughed a little bit. As I laughed, the now sleeping child let out a meek yet deep chest cough and repositioned herself in my arms.
 
It was then that I realized, it’s all been worth it.
 
All of the planes, trains, buses, sleepless nights, missed holidays with family, and the nastiness that is the smell of my clothes, was worth it.
 
Not that I ever thought the World Race wasn’t worth the travel, sacrifice, and time.
 
It was just that, for the first time, I deeply, truly, and honestly, knew and felt, it was worth it.
 
Finding Jesus in the sleeping child in my arms.
Finding Jesus in the moment that someone on your team has a break down.
Finding Jesus in the beauty of an African sunset.
Finding Jesus in a bar on Bangla Road in Thailand.
Finding Jesus in running with your teammates barefoot down a muddy path that cuts through an African village in a downpour, while laughing uncontrollably.

 
Finding Jesus was worth it.
 
Experiencing the Lord in ways I never could have imagined was worth it.
 
Yeah, it’s all been worth it.