Over the past few months, I’ve read several blogs about how the World Race is more than what you see on Facebook or Instagram. It’s easy to assume that this trip is full of fairy tales with only happy endings, but that would be an unfair representation. The World Race is hard, yet simultaneously rewarding. This blog, though, isn’t about the World Race; it’s about the world and the people in it.
Last week, the pastor of our church in Albania said that our team could go to Greece for a few days. Two days later, we packed up, got on a bus, and arrived in Athens. We arrived late and headed to our hotel, and at first, I was a little disappointed. Everywhere I looked, I saw graffiti, homeless people, and buildings in a state of disrepair. I was shocked. I couldn’t imagine how a city full of historical, architectural masterpieces and living history like the Olympics could be left in such a sad state.
The next morning, we ventured to the area near the Acropolis, and all of those thoughts faded. We hiked up a small hill and stood where Paul first preached the Good News to the people of Athens. We saw the Parthenon. We saw the building that housed the ancient market. I was speechless. These beautiful structures were still standing, holding years of history, right in front of me. I stood in the Olympic stadium that was built for the first modern Olympic games, and it took my breath away. Yet, when we went back to the hotel, the darkness outside of that area was still there. How could a place this beautiful and historic coexist with such obvious struggle?
The truth is, the World Race and the world are very much like that. When you look at my Facebook wall, you see pictures of my team at the Parthenon or touring new cities, or even petting a tiger or riding an elephant. The pictures show you beauty, adventure, and moments forever worth celebrating. Those things are real, they happened. But they don’t tell the whole story. They don’t show you the countless people who didn’t want to come to church with us or hear the Good News. The pictures don’t show you the day that I rode hours in a van in Africa dealing with a migraine and intense carsickness. They don’t show you how I felt when my grandmother died, and I was away from my family. They certainly don’t show me trying to walk in freedom from the fears that have controlled my life for a long time.
Just like Athens, the people we see in front of us may look happy on the surface. Yet, when you venture a little deeper into a person or place’s story, you see so much more. It would be easy to use the old saying, don’t judge a book by it’s cover, because that is true. We shouldn’t do that. But more importantly, we should take time to be real. Take the time to recognize that every place has a story. Every person has a past. Even if someone looks perfectly fine on the outside, don’t assume they don’t have some graffiti and scars inside. And if you see someone who seems to have lots of graffiti, don’t assume that these scars are everything either. We all have parts to our story that are filled with pain and wounds, but we also have celebrations!
Today, take the time to look past the surface. Don’t assume that someone who is hurting has nothing to offer. Don’t assume that someone who posts the best things of Facebook has it all together. Let’s all try for just a little bit, to spend less time online and more time showing people grace. Let’s work on letting Jesus use us to help bring healing to the broken parts of people. Let’s celebrate moments with our families, friends, and communities. Because while everyone may look like they have it all together, we all have a little graffiti on us. How about we just get that out there? Now that it’s there, let’s go love. I like that picture better anyway.
