40 days. That’s all that’s left between me and a flight home to America.
These days, I spend a lot of my time looking back. I find my mind frequently wandering back to my adventures in Central America and Southeast Asia, filtering through memories of the beautiful scenery I’ve seen, wonderful people I’ve met, and the moments that took my breath away. There’s so much that’s happened in the past nine months, it’s hard to process it all. Really, it’s pretty overwhelming to even think about having to somehow condense my experiences into one short answer to the inevitable question: “How was your trip?”
This year has blown my mind. So much of this journey has defied the meager expectations I came in with, as I’ve seen countless times when God showed Himself to be even more faithful than I even thought He would be. Many times, God has surprised me with blessings I didn’t think I deserved. He’s allowed for events and opportunities to align in the coolest of ways. He’s brought His spirit into my ministry, and has impacted so many lives in ways I could never imagine. By the end of this trip, I will be able to point to hundreds of small moments in which God made Himself evident to me and to the people I’ve met from around the world.
At the end of this thing, there’s gonna be a lot to celebrate. But as I approach the end, and am reflecting on the greater purposes of everything I’ve gone through, I’m still left reflecting on the one question that still has me wondering if I’ve gotten what I came for.
Am I a different person now than I was at the beginning?
In some ways, I feel different now than the Jonathan I knew in Costa Rica. I sometimes go back and read my old blogs and journals, chuckling as I read my thoughts on all of the things that frustrated or concerned me about my life back then (I laugh out loud at the parts where I’m anxiously planning my post-Race life in the middle of Month Two). I think about the people on my teams and how far our relationships have come, how deeply we know each other now, and how strange it’s going to feel when they’re not a part of my life in 40 days time.
Certainly a lot changed with me since the last time I wrote one of these “Honest Thoughts” blogs. The last one I wrote was during Month Six in Thailand, as I was fighting through disillusionment and homesickness in hopes of finding victory. The prior one was written during Month Two in Nicaragua, where I wrestled with staying present. But this time around, strangely enough, I’m not struggling with homesickness or disillusionment or staying present. I’m near the end of this trip, and I’m not worried about giving up, or being unable to stay strong or fight to the finish. Why?
Because the World Race has now become comfortable.
Yes, this crazy life has now become normal to me. I’m used to living in community. I’m used to going to the market to pick up food. I’m used to haggling down prices with locals. I’m used to losing power at random times of the day. I’m used to communicating with people in broken English. I’m used to hearing children yell “mzungu” anytime I come out of my house. I’m used to eating food that I’ve never tried before, and not really questioning what it is. I’m used to taking cold showers (if there is even a shower available). I’m used to long travel days on old buses that bounce around on bumpy roads. I’m used to sleeping in the same room with six other people. I’m used to never having good wifi. I’m used to wearing the same six outfits every week. I’m used to packing my life into a backpack every couple of weeks. I’m used to doing manual labor, or preaching a sermon, or praying for strangers. I’m used to it all. It’s not uncomfortable anymore.
This World Race life is now more comfortable to me than the life I left behind. And this makes me laugh. Why? Because I came on the Race to get out of my comfort zone. And now, nine months later, what used to be living outside of my comfort zone feels strangely safe.
If you’ve been following my blogs this past year, you might have noticed me most frequently struggling with the physical conditions of the Race. Before this trip, I never thought I was the kind of person who needed physical comfort to be content; that is, until Training Camp happened. Ten days in the Georgia woods, sleeping in an insufferably hot tent, and getting vulnerable with 42 other strangers woke me up to the fact that comfort was a great idol in my life. And remarkably, as I’ve gone through the past nine months, this perpetual struggle has continued to stand in my way.
But why has comfort been the hardest thing to overcome? Why do I need nice beds or hot showers or good American food to feel more like myself? Why do I feel more spiritually at peace when I have all of the things I think I need?
For some reason, physical comfort provides the illusion of security. Having a warm home during the winter protects us from the threat of sickness. Having a car gives us the freedom to go wherever we want. Having a steady income allows us to trust that our pantries will always be stocked with food. Most of the physical comforts I’ve abandoned on the Race are things I’ve never had to go without before. And those things were harder to give up at first than I expected. Sure, I had gone a couple weeks living out of a suitcase before. But eleven months? That’s a whole different animal. Choosing to go on the Race meant not only abandoning comfort, but being willing to live a life devoid of consistent comforts. It was hard, but as the year has progressed, I’ve found that those physical comforts weren’t the things I needed to find true security.
I get why Christians are told to live outside their comfort zone. Choosing to do everything from within the confines of what’s “comfortable” limits opportunities to grow, to experience amazing things in the world, and to allow God to do impossible things through us. The Race has absolutely stretched me, as I’ve been called many times to do things I was uncomfortable with doing, or to live with conditions that were less than ideal. And no doubt, living outside of my comfort zone has not always been fun. But am I grateful today that I chose to do so? Absolutely.
I’ve grown used to the discomforts of life on the Race, I’ve found that enduring discomfort has caused me to grow more confident in myself. I know now that I can endure seasons like I had in Cambodia, where I sweat 24/7 and slept on a table. I can endure seasons like in Thailand where I felt disillusioned and homesick. I can endure seasons like Rwanda where my community didn’t agree with me. I can endure long bus rides and sleeping on the floor and eating strange foods and dealing with team conflict. I look at myself sometimes and think “man, I really am a stronger person now.” I couldn’t wait to come home and show off this new Jonathan – a stronger, bolder, more confident version who’s ready to take on any challenge thrown at him.
At least, that’s what I thought, until recently. In the last couple of weeks, as I’ve started to shift my gaze towards my future and my career aspirations, anxiety starts to bubble up again. Things that ceased to be concerns in my life on the Race suddenly started to flicker back to life. What if the dreams I want in life never come to fruition? What if people don’t take me seriously? What if this trip is as good as my life gets? And suddenly, I wonder if the World Race really did change me. If it actually did make me a stronger person. If I ever really was confident.
But maybe it’s true. Maybe that wasn’t confidence that I felt. Maybe I was just comfortable.
Has the World Race really changed me?
A couple of years ago, I went on a road trip with a bunch of friends to hear one of my favorite Christian speakers speak at a church upstate. I knew this particular speaker was very prophetic and influential, and I came in expecting that God was going to do some crazy stuff that night. Worship began, and people were jumping around, singing glory to God, and lifting their hands up in abandon. I knew the Holy Spirit doing something, and I kept worshipping in hopes that I’d get to experience whatever crazy thing He was about to do. Pretty soon, I saw people around me falling out in the Spirit, singing in tongues, and prophesying things on the microphone. But I was feeling nothing. “What’s going on, Lord?” I wondered. Was I doing something wrong? Why wasn’t I experiencing what everyone else seemed to be experiencing? And then, in the middle of raucous worship, I heard the one and only thing God wanted to ask me that night:
“How far do you want to go?”
That question stopped me dead in my tracks. I realized that I had come that night for the experience, hoping to have a crazy story of what God did for me. I looked at the people around me, who were dancing and singing with a Holy fire, and I realized that those people wanted to surrender everything to God. And while I wanted God to encounter me, I realized that if God was going to do so, it wouldn’t just be so I have a cool story to tell. If I wanted more of God, that meant I wanted to surrender more of myself.
Such has been the case with the Race. The Lord has stretched me in my boldness and my willingness to sacrifice basic comforts by calling me out on this adventure, but in the midst of living out of my comfort zone, I’ve realized that I’m still clinging to a comfort zone that I didn’t know I had. Even though I’ve lived a life of abandon for almost ten months now, there are still parts of my heart that I’m having a tough time surrendering. I don’t want God to call me to move overseas permanently. I don’t want God to ask me to give up the things I’m most passionate about. I don’t want to have to constantly be willing to obey His voice whenever He tells me to do something. I’ve abandoned a physical comfort zone, but I’m still huddled up tightly in my spiritual comfort zone.
I thought that the World Race would change this part of my heart that wants to control. After all, I assumed that the reason I signed up for this trip was to live fully for Jesus. But even in the midst of such a broad goal, I still have so much further to go in letting God invade my life. Even though I’m living comfortably in a life on mission, I still haven’t fully surrendered every part of my life to Christ. I’m scared by what could happen if I gave more of myself to Him. I still want to find satisfaction in my artistic passions. I still want to find security in the affirmation of others. I still want to have control over my life. What if I give everything to the Lord, and I don’t like the result?
What’s funny is that as much as I’m frustrated still being in a comfort zone at the end of the Race, I realize that the World Race actually did still teach me how to surrender. When God called me on this trip, I was scared because I knew that it would be a year of living in uncomfortable situations and being stretched in ways I didn’t want to be. I feared being inadequate, I feared not having control, and I feared what would happen to my dreams and desires if I put them on hold for this trip. But I still said yes. And even though I’m nearing the end of the World Race and I’m still struggling with stepping out of this spiritual comfort zone, I realize that if the Lord taught me how to step out of one comfort zone to do the Race, He can certainly guide me out of this current comfort zone as I go into this next season of life. And in doing so, He has proven to me that He is more than faithful to show up every time.
Eleven months are almost at the close, and as I start to wonder about the next season that follows, I look at the forty days left ahead of me and wonder what would happen if I gave the Lord full control. I fear that if I do, then the World Race would cease to be comfortable. But if that’s my goal here, to be comfortable, then I must not be keeping the Lord first in it. Because I’m doing this life for Christ, not for comfort.
To be completely honest, I still haven’t fully come to the point of knowing Christ for my true comfort. I still forget the goodness of God and cling to things of the world. I still idolize my own ways of doing things. I still run to physical things to keep me comfortable (heck, I even still struggle to have good quiet times if the temperature isn’t to my liking). But if I really came on this trip to pursue the Lord and to taste of His goodness, then I don’t want these last forty days to pass by without giving Him my all.
It’s funny to think about how much time I’ve spent dreaming of the physical comforts I have at home. I know that when I return to America, I’m going to love having hot showers and nice beds and home-cooked American food, but I also know that after a while those things will fade from view too. I know that eventually, I’m going to be dealing with insecurities and fears and struggles, and no amount of physical comforts will be able to bring me true comfort.
So I’m grateful for the World Race. I’m grateful that I’ve had a season of life where I lived without the things I thought I needed. I’m grateful that I’ve got a year of testimonies of God’s faithfulness in the midst of my lack. But furthermore, I’m grateful that even when I think I’ve reached the pinnacle of my faith, there’s still further to go in experience everything the Lord has for us.
And you know what? I am a different person now. Maybe not the Christian superhero I thought I would be by now, but I’m grateful to the Lord that because of this trip, I’m at least one step closer.
40 more days. Let’s go.
“May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant.” Psalm 119:76
