I’m about a third of the way through the race (whaaaat?!), and I feel like I can confidently confirm that there’s a lot more than the perfectly executed Instagram adventures have led you to believe.
On bad days, it’s realizing you traded your closet-the-size-of-a-bedroom in your super cute apartment that you lived in ~*aLoNe*~ for a tiny room with 6 women you did not choose, and only the clothes in your pack (that can not, in fact, withstand the wear and tear that is the World Race).
It’s acknowledging that you no longer have the luxury of time alone to process what you’re feeling, and you can’t fake an ‘I’m fine’ because the people who spend 23.2 hours a day within arms reach of you know you’re grumpy before you do.
It’s learning how to be thankful for the food in front of you, even if it’s all that will fit in the budget or not what you attempted to order.
It’s mourning your old life and all your shoes while you rock a permanent Chaco tan line and the same (roughly worn) pants for the 75th time.
It’s missing the people who love you most and cheering them on through spotty FaceTime calls while their lives continue on without you.
It’s wanting to feel pretty when you haven’t showered in 3 days and still don’t know how to properly hand wash your clothes
Please send laundry help.
It’s trying to use a squatty potty on a moving train.
It’s trying to sleep on that train with cockroaches in your bed.
It’s trusting the food won’t make you sick, and when it does, consuming only Sprite and french toast the rest of the month (and still losing weight.. hooray!)
It’s saying goodbye to people and places you’ve given your entire heart to, knowing in your gut you’ll never return. (Don’t worry, Thailand, I’m still coming back for you!)
It’s allowing grace for yourself because you feel like you get it wrong way more than you get it right.
And man, on the good days, it’s having 6 live-in sisters who are always rooting for you.
It’s a beach in Thailand, or a mountain in the Himalayas.
It’s a midday chai break or Pad Thai from a street vendor.
It’s a Murder Mystery Party on a rooftop in Nepal with your 50 squadmates.
It’s being thankful for things you’d never know were a luxury, like flushing toilets and hot (or even drinkable) water.
It’s getting to see parts of the world you never dreamed possible.
It’s learning that you are far more capable than you thought, if you’ll only let God take over when you reach the end of your self.
It’s the twinkle in the eyes of a bar girl when she realizes you see her, not just her body, and that for a brief moment, she doesn’t have to sell herself or be anyone else.
It’s the giggle of a child who is finally getting to be a child.
It’s a dance party with special needs kids who aren’t accepted in their own country.
It’s running through knee-deep water during a monsoon flood and laughing til it hurts.
It’s the conversations with your taxi driver, spring roll lady, corner store guy, anyone who will listen, because they all deserve to hear the gospel and know a savior that desperately loves them.
It’s seeing people boldly live out their faith in the most persecuted areas of the world.
It’s joining hands with people from every continent as children of God and praising Him for His goodness.
It’s seeing story after story of healing and redemption for painful, messy, broken pasts.
It’s choosing and accepting grace over and over because no matter how much we strive to be like Jesus, we will always, always fall short.
And it’s falling more and more in love with Christ and inviting others to accept that love, too.
