11 As Jesus continued toward Jerusalem, he reached the border between Galilee and Samaria. 12 As he entered a village there, ten lepers stood at a distances, 13 crying out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” 14 He looked at them and said, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were cleansed of their leprosy. 15 One of them, when he saw that he was healed, came back to Jesus, shouting, “Praise God!” 16 He fell to the ground at Jesus’ feet, thanking him for what he had done. This man was a Samaritan. 17 Jesus asked, “Didn’t I heal ten men? Where are the other nine?” Luke 17:11-17
Seven months ago, I was in Uganda for Month Four of the World Race. The main form of transportation for quick travel was a motorcycle-like vehicle called a boda boda. We would usually squish two people and the driver on each bike and ride them from Kampala to our smaller town. Your biggest fears on a boda boda are taking speed bumps too quickly or getting too close to oncoming traffic. One evening in particular, our group of boda bodas got separated. I was thankfully with another member of our team, but I remember vividly thinking, “I have no idea where we are, I cannot communicate in the same language with our driver, and it is way too dark out.” Our driver attempted to drop us off at a spot we knew wasn’t right in the middle of the crowded Kampala streets. We refused and tried again to have him get us to the correct place. In the midst of all this chaos, I began praying. “God, please get us home safely. Help him understand us. Get us out of here. Help us find our team. God, I trust you.” Honestly, it was one of the scariest moments I can remember on the Race.
A short time later, we reunited with our team at the correct location and were on our way home in a taxi van. Approximately thirty minutes had passed since I had stopped praying, and I thought, “I am one of the nine.” I had spent so much time in a high stress situation begging God to deliver us to safety, only to arrive there with my entire team unharmed and offer no words of thankfulness. I asked him to forgive me for so quickly forgetting the fact that nothing terrible happened to us when it so easily could have.
Now fast forward to Month Eight, and I’m afraid I am still one of the nine. I was sitting in a crêpe shop listening to the owner who I had befriended tell my teammate and I about some of her struggles. My teammate shared some encouragement with her, and she responded by saying, “Sometimes I forget to just be thankful. I have so much.” And I agree. I am the same. While I’ve never been healed of leprosy like the people in the Bible or known the despair that comes with being a societal outcast because of such a disease, I have been blessed with so much and I rarely take the time to be thankful.
I don’t want to be one of the nine. I want to remember in every circumstance that there are so many things to be thankful for. On the Race and in life, there are frustrating, disheartening, or sad moments. It’s quite easy in those times to sit in your frustration and refuse to see the good that is around you. Or you can look around, and be thankful. Choose to be the one that went back to Jesus and said thank you! Maybe you get a flat tire, choose to be thankful that someone stopped to help or that you have a phone to call for help. Maybe you lose something that mattered to you, try remembering the things that you still have and love! It’s hard, and sometimes moments seem to be so tragic that finding things to be thankful for almost seems insensitive. But I think if you look hard enough, we can all find a reason to be the one that went back to Jesus to say thank you.
Not all boda rides were this fun!
