We arrived in Nepal and our squad spent a few days in Katmandu reflecting on the last few months, changing teams (I’ll introduce them to you shortly), and preparing for the months ahead. We hadn’t been there long before I started not feeling well. It was nothing crazy, just a low-grade fever and a headache. I was fairly confident it was nothing and figured it must just be something small I picked up traveling, my body adjusting to a new culture and country again, or just the stress of it all. But over the course of the week, it seemed to get worse.
My team left Katmandu and headed to a small town of Pokhara, Nepal. Pokhara is a tourist town, known for trekking and we spent the majority of our month there working in the slums, with Tibetan refugees, and working in what is considered the Red-Light district. We had an amazing month getting to know people, build relationships, and share the Gospel. We got to tell so many people about Jesus, pray over so much hurt, and really get to know both the locals and the tourist. Of all the places I’ve been to on the race so far, Pokhara is the place I want to go back to.
Our first day in Pokhara, I started feeling a lot worse. That night, my team decided to go out to get dinner, but I opted to stay back at our guest house and rest. I checked my temperature before laying down and it was 101. I laid down and started mindlessly scrolling through social media and talking to a friend from back at home when the WiFi went out. I decided to go downstairs to reconnect to the WiFi and refill my water.
I was sitting on the couch when a man walked by me, with a pot of noodles he had just prepared. I had seen him a time or two but had never engaged him in a conversation. He sat across from me and introduced himself. We talked for a moment and then he offered me some of the food he has just prepared. It was obvious that at this point he really wanted to talk. Truthfully, talking to him was the last thing I wanted to do. I didn’t feel good, but something in me knew that I needed to talk to him. So, I closed my computer and quickly asked the Lord to open the door for me to turn this conversation into an opportunity to share the Gospel.
I moved over beside him and we began talking. I shared a little bit about why I was in Nepal and what we were doing. I quickly learned that he was here traveling from South Korea. We talked about his previous travels, his work experience, and he shared with me his story. I’m telling you, this man has done it all.
We talked for a bit and then it just flowed in religion, as I’ve found it naturally does in Asia. We talked about church and the way the church has hurt people. We talked about creation and various creation theories. We talked about the goodness of God in the midst of the pain in the world. We sat there for almost 2 hours just talking. Before the conversation ended, I was able to pray with him and invite him to church with us.
I left the conversation and walked up on the roof of our guest house and listened to worship music and talked to the Lord about the encounter. I went to bed and woke up a few hours later only to realize that my fever had gotten dangerously high. They admitted me into a clinic and began giving me cold showers, IV’s, and medication to help the fever break. It was obvious that it was none other than the Lord, who allowed me to have a conversation with him that night.
The reality is that physically I was exhausted. I was sick and running and fever and had zero energy. Emotionally and mentally, I almost felt worse than I did physically. Yet, it was in a moment of weakness and exhausted that the Father reminded me that this is not about me.
Missions is not about what I bring to the table. Missions is not about how gifted of a person I am or how good of a Christian I am. It doesn’t matter if I’m a gifted speaker or know all the answers to every question asked to me. It doesn’t matter what I feel like or look like or what I am going through. The beauty of missions is that it isn’t about me, but what He can do through me on my best of days and on my worst of days.
It’s so easy in the world we live in to get caught up in the cycle of comparison. Between living in close community with so many people, who are loving Jesus and serving Him so well, to the never-ending cycle of social media, and everything in between it’s easy to make it about me. It’s so easy to get into the habit of doing things to make myself a better person, a better missionary, a better Christian. When Jesus is simply standing there with arms wide open wanting me to simply rest in Him and allow Him to work through me. Work through me on the days where I’m thriving and loving life, and on the ways where I’m running a fever and exhausted.
Little did I know that night I would become good friends with that man. Over the course of the next few weeks in Pokhara we shared many meals together, took lots of walks, and ate shared many laughs. He started going to church with my team and I and even joined us for ministry some days. By the end of the month, everyone on my team considered him a close friend. & thankfully, our initial conversation was just the first of many conversations about faith, religion, and Jesus.
I’ll forever be thankful for our friendship. & forever thankful, that ministry isn’t in my hands. But in the hands of a really good God.
