I have to be really honest. I don’t know what to say.
I’m at the point in the race where there are so.many.experiences. There are so many experiences that happen in the day to day moments. So many experiences that happen in big situations. So many thoughts. So many tears. So much growth. So much change. So many failures and so many victories. So much brokenness and healing and restoration and regeneration. How would one describe the pressure cooker that is the world race? 10 or more years of growth and experience jammed into 11 months. What do you say?
How do you tell people of the anger and brokenness that led you to not wanting God anymore? How do you explain of the sweet moment where Holy Spirit radically changed everything you ever knew about him and then gave you a new gift to walk in? How do you possibly describe the sweet laughter of a child who knows no home, the bitter tears of a widow who has no family, the sorrowful glance of a single mother who is raising her young children, or the joyful celebration that is the very life of a soul newly encountering the love of Jesus?
Do you tell of the time when a lady pulled a knife on you on the train, or the time you were groped by an angry and drunk man? Do you scare your parents and panic your friends with the realities of how you have actually been spending your days living and walking in faith that looks weird and further goes against every convention you’ve ever been raised with?
Do you talk about the languages you’ve learned or the places you’ve sat in? How bout the places your bare feet have touched, the faces you’ve beheld, or the amount of foreign doctors you’ve had to seek treatment from? How do you truly give through words, the feelings of chatting with Jesus while sitting in a windowsill in Estonia, smelling the sweet flowers of Europe, feeling the tender lips of an African baby on your cheeks, hearing the melodic sound of believers in Nepal encounter the maker of the universe, or how about the loud, joyful screams and laughter of your teammates as you come back together to once again travel to a new country? How do you explain what an early morning Indian mist smells and feels like as your ears hear roosters and a tiny village waking up from deep slumbers in thatched huts?
How do you explain the giddy joy of a world race dance party in over 12 countries that makes your heart beat right out of your chest? Or what about a worship session that leaves you a hot mess in a puddle of tears in a teammates lap? Or what about ugly crying in a sauna while you bitterly weep to your mom about feelings of not being chosen, known or loved. How do you tell of the deep fears and hurt that Jesus is healing from past relationships and ministries? How in the world would you ever explain the heavenly moment of tasting real coffee, or tell of the moment that you look around and realize you are dancing in the capital city or are offered a helicopter ride over a harbor in the Baltic Sea? How would the majesty of the Himalayas or an African sunrise or the warmth of the Indian Ocean ever actually befall your lips? How do you describe what it feels like to swim with Great White sharks or play with penguins on a beach or ride horses (and fall off of one) in an African meadow? Or what about teaching at a bible college in India or an elementary school in Swaziland? Preaching in hospitals? Leading a woman in a prison to salvation in Jesus? How do you explain what crippled, dry, and cracked feet feel like in the palms of your hands as you pray for healing?
How do you tell of what it feels like to grind corn and pump water for your needs in Africa? How do you talk about the intensity of a conflict resolution you have to go through with a teammate or the roots of hurt that cause you to withdraw and contemplate going home? How do you explain kneeling in worship in far off lands as you frantically search for your savior in moments of identity crises?
Can you actually tell of the deep and extremely real and overwhelming love you have for people who you don’t even know the last name of? Could you actually show the bitter tears that ravaged your face, the restless nights in unfamiliar places, the fear of coming home, the confusion of life itself or the actuality of living a spirit filled life? Or…scarily enough, how do you tell of the whisper your heart has caught of a life full of much more than you would ever dream of…knowing you cannot ever live the same way ever again?
Further more…what do you do with all of this yourself?
Instagram won’t capture ministry. Facebook can’t speak of emotion. Skype won’t cradle your broken heart. Blogs don’t actually speak of realities. Teammates can’t satisfy needs. Family can’t understand. Friends will fall short. But Jesus….Jesus is different.
He sees the tears and feels the heat of them as they roll down his own cheeks. He intimately knows the bitterness of not being chosen or loved. He belly laughs with you at your teammate as she pees her pants (don’t worry she laughed too). He cringes with you as you lay in an unfamiliar hospital bed. He smiles with pride as you encounter the animals of his creation and the majesty of his beautiful earth. He rejoices with you as you speak in heavenly languages and make new friends who tenderly hold your heart.
But Jesus.
He directs your bare feet onto dirty roads that meet people who are thirsty for Living water. He sits silently…patiently as you ignore him and angrily withdraw from his passionate embrace. He delights as you get the courage to voice frustrations and have the transparency to doubt and question. He closes his eyes with joy and delight as you taste foreign delicacies. He smiles with pride as the essences and aromas of wild flowers fill your nose.
But Jesus.
He sees it all. He knows. When you don’t feel, when you don’t understand, when none of it makes sense, when you fail, when you berate yourself, when you check out or choose in…those sweet words become your reality: “but Jesus”. When you cry, when you laugh, when you hate, when you love, or when you simply sit paralyzed by being overwhelmed…it’s still Jesus. When your mind gets it but your heart is slow on the uptake. When you are encouraged or persecuted. Humbled or terrified. Lacking or overflowing….Jesus.
I wish I had the words and the energy for the stories that overflow from each day. I wish I had the diligence to blog every day and keep up with every one I know…but the reality is it’s the end of month 7 and I’m tired. I’m spent. This blog isn’t even a fraction of what I’ve experienced. I’ve lived the hardest month on the race and realized it’s also the very, very best month. The reality is, I have been wrecked for heavenly things and my life is no longer mine, nor is it the same. I don’t have words for feelings any longer and I have no idea how to explain anything. But Jesus.
And that’s all that matters. And that’s all that will matter.
