It was late the other night. Somewhere between 12:30 & 1am. I couldn’t sleep. It had been a long and hard day. One that starts off feeling like I’m gonna cry and ends the same way. Despite being exhausted from the day, I laid awake in my bed while my other teammates were fast asleep. So what to do? Take my Bible, iPod, and go sit on the bathroom floor for a while.
The race is hard. I knew it was going to be hard. And I had heard that people quit the race because it was hard for them and they didn’t want to continue it. When I heard those things, I just kind of laughed to myself thinking that was never going to be me.
But here I was wanting to quit the race. I even sent my friend a text in the morning saying I was done and wanted to come home. Because it was hard and I was tired of it being hard.
It may seem like the race is always awesome. Because that’s what the outside gets to see. The elephant riding, zip lining, big city exploring, cookie eating, and all that. All those great things as racers we love to Instagram and share on Facebook. Which is fine. But that’s not all of it. There’s still 5 days left in the week that aren’t always shared with the rest of the world.
5 days of sleeping in a banana-shaped hammock because my sleeping pad has a hole in it and won’t stay inflated for longer than a couple of hours. 5 days of constantly dripping in sweat as soon as the shower is turned off because the heat index says it’s over 100 degrees with high humidity. 5 days of ministry that is hard to understand at times and walk into. 5 days of always having people around despite being a high introvert. 7 days of miscommunication because of language barriers and cultural differences.
It’s hard taking a week or so to figure out the little bit of culture I can and develop some sort of routine and understanding, knowing that in a little over 2 weeks, I have to uproot again and figure out a whole new place and culture. Some days, my heart and body is ready to establish roots in a place for more than a month. I know I signed up for moving around the world for 11 months straight. And there are some great things about getting to experience a new culture every month. But it’s also quite tiring too.
I’m sure that this may sound like complaining, and maybe it is, but this is me being honest about where my heart is right now. Not faking it or romanticizing the race and what life is like. To get people to understand the pictures that aren’t seen or posted on Instagram.
And these are the realities that no one told me about or even if they did, could prepare myself for in saying yes to coming on the race. Realities that are hitting me real hard as it’s the middle of Month 5 and looking back at how hard these 5 months have been, knowing there are still 6 full months ahead. Realizing that every day is a fight. And some days I just feel too tired to fight. Days where I don’t have it in me to get out of my hammock early enough to read my Bible and start my day with the Lord. And it’s hard when people in my community ask me what I’m learning and I’ve got nothing for them because I haven’t spent enough time with the Lord this month to even let Him teach me anything. It’s hard to pour out each day when I don’t feel like I have anything to pour out since I didn’t get filled up in the morning, or the day before. Which I know is all in my control. I know it’s a choice. But it’s not always an easy choice on the race. It’s sometimes a fight to make the right choice. And some days I wake up feeling defeated, not even wanting to put up a fight. So I don’t.
So how did I find myself facedown on the bathroom floor? I somehow made the choice. Even when it’s hard, I have to keep on going. I’m not a quitter. Or at least I don’t want to be. And sometimes I need a bit of encouragement and nudging and prompting to keep on going. And that’s what happened that night. I was wide awake and couldn’t sleep. My friend back home, who I was texting, nudged me to spend time with the Lord. So I went and sat on the bathroom floor and was eventually facedown on the floor in worship.
Amidst my tiredness and frustrations and wanting to quit, I just sat and the Spirit met me there. He told me that all those feelings are valid. And that He sees me in my tiredness and hardships and days where I want to give up. But it’s not about me.
The race isn’t about me. It’s not about me fighting my battles, but allowing the Lord to fight in me. To surrender those hard days and battles and choose the Lord. That I don’t have to fight each day, but I do have to choose the Lord. And there are days where I’m not always going to choose the Lord, but there’s grace for that.
And this race isn’t just for me. It’s not just a learning experience for me, but for the people I’m with. For the people sitting at home and reading this blog. The people I know and have personally invited along for the ride and those I don’t know who were invited by someone else. Because God isn’t using this just for me. He’s using it beyond me to show His glory and His power. So I keep on choosing Him. Every morning.
And I find myself in awe that despite my failures and laziness some days to choose Him, He still chooses me to build His Kingdom. Why me? I don’t really know, because there’s definitely people who are more disciplined and effective than I am. But yet, He still chooses me. And that in itself leads me to be facedown in humility on the bathroom floor in a Thai hotel room.
