Another day, another country.
Or two.
Our first day in our village in Thailand also happened to be our first day in Burma. We are seriously that close to the border. In fact, the people we are working with are refugees from Burma. So—yeah—it’s a bit confusing here. We are technically in Thailand, but the local language is Burmese; communication—like always—will be quite the adventure this month.
But, that’s the fun of it isn’t it?
Learning to live completely immersed in another language, another culture, another country is one of the greatest experiences this life has to offer.
This month, immersion looks like two guys (the now-famous duo of which Luke Hanna and I each make up half of) living out of a 5×5 foot room. A room that is made entirely of bamboo. In fact, nearly everything in the village that we live in is made entirely of bamboo.
When I think of my life right now, I am at a complete loss of words. This time last year I was sitting in the stands of Jordan-Hare Stadium in Auburn, Alabama surrounded by nearly 100,000 other Americans as we all cheered and celebrated alongside each other. This morning, I woke up in a bamboo hut in rural Thailand to the crowing of a dozen roosters and the sounds of Burmese refugee children singing praises to the Creator of the Universe.
And yet—I could not be happier.
The fact that God has given me the chance to play a part in what he is doing across the world blows my mind. I am in a part of the world that most Americans don’t even realize exists. Not only am I here, but I am living my day-to-day life in this place.
This isn’t some field trip; this is my actual life.
Climbing a mountain to help cut logs for firewood and then sliding through the mud all the way to the bottom of that same mountain with six of the greatest humans in the entire world: that is what my day looked like yesterday. Two days ago, my team and I crossed the border into Burma and got to pray with a random woman in her home. That was all right after we swam beneath a waterfall. Here in Thailand, we eat fried crickets and bamboo worms as snacks. Every single night we get to sing and pray and play games with kids who have unexplainable joy given the circumstances of their lives.
It is beautiful. My life is beautiful.
And all I did was say “yes” to the Lord.
Yet, as I sit here and think about how incredible all the adventures I get to go on in my quest to spread the name of Jesus across the world I can’t help but wonder why my life couldn’t be just as adventurous—just as breathtaking—back home in the states.
Why can’t I wake up every morning knowing that my day will be full of experiences and moments that will be beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined? Why can’t I live a life that seems as if it came straight out of a novel or a movie? Why do I feel as if my life back home can’t fill me with the same excitement and passion as my life here on the World Race?
And why does it feel as if I am more immersed here in a foreign culture than I am back home in American society?
As I’ve been struggling with these questions, I’ve discovered a key difference between my life here and my life back home in America. And it has nothing to do with where I am geographically.
It’s just a “yes.”
In the States, it is so easy for me to just go through the motions. Wake up, go to class, go to the coffee shop, go home, watch Netflix, eat dinner, go to bed. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
And that gets me through my days.
But, it doesn’t make me feel alive. It’s existing, not living.
It took me being 9000 miles from home to realize that every single day of my life could be filled with so much more adventure if I would only respond to God with a “yes” instead of a “maybe one day.”
And this could be yours, too.
What if you said “yes” when God prodded you to ask that classmate to grab lunch? What if you said “yes” when you felt the Spirit pushing you to say “hello” to that old man in the coffee shop? What if instead of ignoring God, you said “yes” to his call for you to leave behind your Netflix binge to go on a bike ride with your friend?
That classmate might get to hear the first encouraging words they have gotten all semester. That old man might get to tell the stories of his tour through Europe with the military for the first time in years. Jesus might become the topic of conversation on that simple bike ride.
And—along the way—you just might get to see how beautifully adventurous life can be even when it seems mundane. The routine could easily become the extraordinary.
Because adventure isn’t about waterfalls and illegal border crossings and bamboo huts.
No, adventure is about having the courage to do things you’d never thought you would do before.
Adventure is about capturing the moments of your life that could be stolen from you by normalcy and complacency and mediocrity.
Adventure is about finding God’s glory in the simplicity of daily life.
Adventure is about living a life of “yes.”
