Hey friends and family!
 
I know that we have been pretty quiet on here. There are no excuses really… we are just tired, and always on the go in ministry or travel it seems. 
 
Since we last updated, we are far over half way done with the race. We only have 3 and a half more months! Which is crazy to think about!
 
In Bosnia and Kosovo, we went through what they call the “halfway slump”, which is where this life has become all too normal! The honeymoon stage is long gone, home has become a constant ache in our heart, and we have fought off the spirit of apathy and complacency. 
 
Europe has been good to us though… it feels similar to home. The weather is nice, and each month we have gotten to grocery shop and cook for ourselves, which has been nice on the budget and our health! 
 
The people are beautiful, and great friendships have been made in our time here.
 
I have tried to come up with a blog to sum up our time in Europe, but there is so much to say that I am trying to decide if I should break it up in a few blogs, or slam it all into one. We shall see… 
 
But for now, I wanted to share a blog from my team mate, Maggie Cooper ( https://maggiecooper.theworldrace.org ), that I feel sums up our year and the last few months in Europe… So keep on reading if you are interested! 
 

 
“I grew up in a nation where, if you don’t care about “the war in wherever,” you can just stop following it on Facebook and ignore the news. My generation has been gifted the luxury of checking out whenever it suits us. 
 
Over the last several weeks, I have walked the streets of a region still crawling itself out of holes left by bombs and bullets. I stood in a church buried beneath rubble that will take decades to reconstruct, and I sat on a cold curb alongside hundreds of refugees fleeing their home countries, penniless and hopeless. For the rest of the world, especially here in the Balkans, war is an unavoidable presence. Its claw marks scar the sides of buildings. It leaves cities haunted with debris and untended fields bathed in blood.  Most importantly, war reaches beyond the visible landscape deep into the hearts of the people who witnessed its horror firsthand.    
Every night, I listen to the stories of men, women, and children living without concern for the future. They are looking only for the source of their next meal, a place to stay, and if they are lucky, some shoes without holes. 

Here are some of the very stark realities I have been exposed to this year:

In Indonesia the government dictates what people can say and do. Among the thousands of motorbikes zooming past extravagant government buildings and lavish temples, on roads littered with plastic and produce stands, are people hurrying to and from a job they do not love to make a limited income. Great aspirations are reduced to learning English and finding a career in hospitality. 

In the Philippines the bright skyline can barely be seen from miles away through the dense fog of pollution and mountains of trash piled almost as high in neighboring communities. These people boast to live like Americans in a city full of advertisements and shopping malls that you could spend days in after navigating your way through a variety of smells and the honking horns of congested freeways outside.

In Thailand, elderly people get up before the cock crows to carry their food to an overheated, unsanitary market in the hopes of selling enough to afford the roof over their families head. Young women sell their bodies to customers from around the world because it is the quickest way for them to “earn” almost enough to feed their likely fatherless children. They are told their worth by a society that could care less about them and they believe it. 

In Cambodia, people without limbs try to sell you books about the war that cost them their livelihood. There is a lack of progress that makes you feel as if you are living in a twilight zone, where refrigerators are a luxury and hot dogs are all the rave. You can visit the bridge where Angelina Jolie made a film about the Khmer Rouge and buy iconic red scarves after visiting mass grave sites from the execution of anyone with the mind or the money to threaten the former dictator.

In Vietnam, the people are told what they can and cannot believe and what they are expected to contribute constantly. As a courtesy, tourists are reminded not to walk through the fields due to land mines and hazardous remnants of warfare. You can ride the bus for 6.000 dong (about 26 cents) from the upscale spas and posh cafes of district 1 all the way to the orphans and auto shops in district 12. 

In Bosnia, the buildings are littered with bullet holes and ruins barely intact stand next to recently renovated hotels and grand shopping centers. The blend of old and new is an attraction in and of itself…you can walk through tunnels that families hurried through when the city was under siege and stand on the edge of a barricade once lined with firearms. Refugees sleep outside the train station in the hope of receiving a blanket and some bread. Most of them have been beaten by authorities, lost their passports at the boarder, and spent every dime they have to get as far as they have. 

The small nation of Kosova is still referred to in their former oppressor’s tongue. Different religious groups, patriotic foreigners, and resources hungry nations still cling to the idea that this country should belong to them. The populace has fresh memories of war, scars from vaccinations, and family members that they have yet to be reunited with. Young in their independence, they are eager to catch up to the rest of Europe and earn respect on a global scale.

Today we live in the aftermath of 20th century bloodbaths and the stakes have anything but lowered. My generation got to learn about the never-ending story that is the Cold War. I grew up watching big dogs fight in the little dog’s backyard and declare it an issue of national security.  

While we grow increasingly comfortable in our first world bubble, the disparities between “us” and “them” grow starker. Simultaneously, entire groups of people dismiss altogether the reality that the world’s problems affect us, and will eventually be our problems. 

So in light of all this suffering, what am I doing here? How do I share Living Water with people who are far more concerned with finding actual water for survival? What does it look like to share the Gospel with people who feel like Hell is already in their memories? 
 
Furthermore, how can any of this be reconciled with the life I know back home?  As an American, where is my place in this ever-shifting geopolitical landscape? Will I be able to share or even preserve this new perspective in the months after I return home?” 
 
 

 
Thanks for reading friends. More updates and recap videos coming soon! 
 
With love, Justin and Tessie