There’s this phrase that every World Racer is all too familiar with… “choose in.”
Everyone talks about it, how you’re really gonna have to “choose in” on the Race. Choose into ministry, your teammates, The Lord.
At the beginning of my journey, I thought I was doing a great job of choosing in. Ministry gave me life. I stayed up until 2 am with squadmates talking and laughing. Quite time with Jesus was an intentional time of each day. I loved every minute of this life. This choosing in stuff was a breeze.
But it wasn’t until month 5 that I realized genuinely choosing in didn’t begin until things were no longer a breeze. Until ministry became something I wasn’t always looking forward too. Until I realized that not everyone on my squad was going to be my best friend. Until I started forgetting to spend intimate time with Jesus. Until that “OMG I’m on the other side of the world doing all this good” high started to fade and this life just became… life. Until I all but forget about choosing in. Until Manzini, Swaziland.
I wish I could say that when the going got tough in Swaziland, the tough got going, but that would be a lie. To be honest, I was tired of the lack of scheduled ministry, I was missing my family and friends, I was unappreciative and short-tempered with my squad mates. I was burnt out. But instead of running to Abba for the strength I needed, I stayed right where I was.
Two weeks before we left Manzini, I realized my time in Africa was almost up. I was sad, and not only because goodbye was right around the corner. I was sad, deeply heartbroken, that I didn’t make more of my time in Swaziland. “I wish I had gone to the Hope House to see that old Scottish man more, keeping him company and sharing Jesus with him. I wish I had gone to more care points to play with sweet little African children. I wish I had told more people on the streets about a man named Jesus. I wish I had choose not to sit in my complacency, but chose in.”
So instead of continuing to wish, I started to do. Whenever the was an opportunity to do ministry, I took it; no more making excuses and saying no. If there weren’t ministry opportunities, I made them. Everyday I got up an hour early to make sure I spent personal time with Jesus. I fasted, asking The Lord to open my eyes and ears and heart to His work. I spent intentional time with my squadmates instead of just living with them. I choose in.
Right away I learned that when you tell Jesus that you are willing and available to be used, no matter what it costs, He takes you seriously! Simply by saying “yes,” God worked in and through me in ways I couldn’t have imagined.
I was asked to help write a biblical discipleship program my last two weeks at the AIM base. Everyday I worked with 30 young Swazis to develop lessons that would teach hundreds of kids about Jesus, their identity in Him, and the life they are called to live. The curriculum is the first of its kind and will be used at every care point across Swaziland for years to come, changing Swaziland through the children. It was hard, but the most rewarding and greatest privilege I’ve had to be a part of advancing the Kingdom in a way so much bigger than myself.
I went to the hospital almost everyday. No bodies were miraculously healed, but hearts were. I talked with countless, tired and hopeless mommies and told them of a God who loves them, and their sick children, and is only capable of good. I played and giggled with sweet little kids and held malnourished babies. I was reminded that even in the midst of heart ache and pain, God doesn’t miss a thing. I fell in love with a place that most people wouldn’t dare to go.
A simple encounter with a needy woman on the street led to me and my teammate Grace raising over $2,000 for her four, wonderful children to go to school. The youth group at our church spent their Saturday doing ministry with us at a girls home where I made forever memories while sitting in a mango tree. Dave became more than just the old Scottish man at the Hope House, but a friend. The kids are the carepoint stole my heart. The people at the AIM office became some of my closest friends. Jesus refreshed my soul and renewed my weary heart.
I kept saying that my time in Africa was a dry season, that God wasn’t speaking or moving. Yet God was speaking. God was moving. I was just doing nothing to water the ground on which I stood. But even in the midst of my desert, God’s well never ran dry, constantly springing up new waters, new life. And when I decided to go to that well and pour water on my parched earth, it bloomed.
So whoever you, if you are burnt out, standing on dry ground, crippled by something small compared to the greatness of God, know that life to the fullest exist, it’s waiting for you. All we have to do is decide to get up and embrace it. Do what you can, with what you have, where you are. Choose in!
