It has been an intense, often scary, past 3 years.
There’s no sugar-coating it. The past 3 years of my life have been capital H-A-R-D. To the point where I have wanted to quit many times.
In the brown dirt, trash filled, fields of Tanzania, Africa – I cried, broken and exhausted. Robbed, emotionally empty, and with unbelief.
In the back seat of a bus in Ireland, getting a sabbath day off from a strenuous week of ministry – I could only sleep, through tears of exhaustion. Not even wanting to go back to the mission field.
In the loneliness of my room in California, after coming off my second missionary journey of leadership – I had literal physical pain in my heart and emotional pain, realizing I was more torn up and wrecked through leading than I could have imagined.
In moving to Georgia to join the mission even further, and continue my own heart journey – pulling off the side of the road in the back woods of Georgia, sitting on the hood of my car in tears wondering why the heck did I ever leave it all again, to gain things I couldn’t see yet. Why?
It has been hard!
3 years ago this time, I sat at my Mom’s kitchen table and shared with her the news…I was going to do this thing called The World Race Training Camp. I would take a week off of work, and pay $1500 dollars to travel to a missions organization and get trained to travel around the world, 11 countries, 11 months.
I would be leaving it all.
My mom cried. I cried.
She cried because she new it was my time, to spread my wings. To serve the Lord with full abandon. To leave home, to find my true home.
I cried because I was out of my mind. But I had no other option. I had been sad, lost, and insecure for the past year. And I knew I had to truly find myself once and for all. I wanted to become a man, strong, secure, and found-inside and out.
life grew me up fast! In my 20’s – My Father, Grandmother, Cousin, all passed away. A few relationships not turning into marriage. Corporate jobs, waking up at 4:30am, to climb the never ending ladder. Helping my family through several tragedies and crisis’. Living on my own, searching for fulfillment but not exactly finding it.
In the World’s eyes I was a success story, I was a man. A 27-year old mature and thriving man on the rise. Nice car, home, job, church family, money, and 401(k) to boot.
In my own eyes I was insecure on the inside, feeling inadequate, sad, and trapped.
Have you ever felt that way?
Well, I needed to burst out.
So I did, and pretty big!
Left it all. Moved out of my apartment, boxed up all my belongings. Sold some, gave some away. Closed up all my finances and bills. Bought a tent, sleeping bag, and travel supplies. And decided to live out of a backpack for a year.
I lifted a 40 pound backpack on my back at the Los Angeles International Airport; and kneeling down to the ground, I hugged my little nephews goodbye. Then held back tears as I hugged my mom, sister, and brother. I turned from them, and walked inside that airport. For a journey around the world. To love the nations, and to find myself.
I was a mess. And probably a little naive.
If I new what was ahead the next 3 years, I don’t know if I would have done it.
Because it has been hard. It has challenged and refined everything. My faith. My motives. My purpose. My friendships. My purity. My intentions. My smartness. My ignorance. My future.
But I can say this…
3 years ago, this October, I went to a Training Camp to begin my journey. This past week, I went back to a new Training Camp. Where twice as many other lost and crazy young adults have signed up for the same journey. To find themselves. To see the world in all of it’s brokenness. To not believe the TV screen’s anymore, but to see it for themselves. To hold that skinny orphan baby in Thailand. To feed beans and rice to the hungry Ungandan child. To walk the Himalayan mountains of Nepal to share the good news to unreached people, ages 60, 70, 80 years old.
And here I stand. Looking out over the crowd of 200 new sojourners. And I remember my journey.
I remember how hard it was to leave. But I stand in the back of the room, and smile.
Why?
Because…I have been found.
I found myself.
I know who I am now.
I found God and faith for myself.
I found my inner-man strength.
I found my own confidence and settledness.
I found my own gifting.
I found my own fight.
I found my own voice.
I found me.
It wasn’t me. It was God. He revealed what he had put there when I was all stitched together inside my mom. He stitched together the exact person of who I am. Thing is, I just didn’t know it all. He did. But I didn’t.
But by leaving, I found what the Lord created.
The true me. The me that no person, or thing, can take away.
Because it was found in the desert place, even before I reached the mountain tops.
In the dirt fields of Tanzania,
in the back seat of a bus in Ireland,
in the room of brokenness in California,
in the back woods of Georgia on top of my car…was my identity.
I just had to go find it.
And so I have my little desk at work, upstairs of the missionary building. The same building where I went to Training Camp 3 years ago. I have my good ‘ol faithful Honda Civic to cart me around. A few bucks in my account. And a job, vocation, that I love. Because I know what I was made to do in this moment in life. And I’m doing it.
I miss many things, California, family, friends, and more. But God will take care of these things.
And who knows what the future holds. I am excited for what this next year holds and the years to come.
But today, I thank God, and many of you, for these past 3 years. It’s been a journey of a lifetime.
