When I first signed up for the World Race over a year ago I didn’t imagine how hard Christmas would be for me. I figured it would pass just like any other day on the race, that I’d spend it similarly to how we do at home, or I just didn’t think about it.
But the closer it got to Christmas, the harder it got for me to be away from home. I kept thinking about what I’d be doing if I were at home with my family. On Thanksgiving, we’d be picking out our tree and then be going home to decorate it. My mom and I would be baking all kinds of goodies, either to take to work or for the boys to share with the neighbors. My dad would be asking my opinions of gifts for my mom. I’d be able to hear any Christmas song I wanted to listen to on the radio or on my phone.
It hasn’t been the same here in Bolivia. We’re in a remote village in the mountains and must travel an hour to get to a market and four hours to get internet. Honestly, I started to get a little caught up in my own thoughts of not being home (being comfortable) instead of enjoying what was around me. We are surrounded by some of the most beautiful mountains I’ve ever seen and the most loving people I’ve ever been around. But, my selfish wants and desires got in the way of me seeing that.
I realized my mood was hindering me from really connecting here with the people and my team, so I began to pray to God that He would comfort me and make my heart content with being here. It didn’t happen immediately, but sometimes the Lord works that way. I had to make a conscious effort to enjoy Christmas away from home and away from comfort.
As a team we watched the Grinch a few days before Christmas. After he’s stolen all the Who’s presents he hears them singing because to them Christmas wasn’t about tradition and gifts.
“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes, or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled ‘till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. What if Christmas doesn’t come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”
Christmas isn’t just my traditions and my comfort. Christmas is reading to an eighty-nine-year-old woman, who can’t see, the story of Jesus’ birth in her native language. Christmas is walking around a remote village singing carols to families we’ve connected with. Christmas is sitting around with seven of your teammates eating fried bread covered in dulce de leche, while opening secret Santa gifts left in our dirty socks the night before.
This hasn’t been an overnight change and I’m still working through the feeling of not being home for the holidays. Every morning I’ve been praying for God to give me His strength, His joy, His eyes. And He has been.
Please pray for me and my team as we exit this holiday season and enter into a new culture and new relationships in Cambodia this coming month.
