Esperanza
In Spanish, the word for hope is esperanza. This word exemplifies my life through my first couple weeks on the world race.
It took a while for it to truly sink in that I was actually on the race, in a whole other country than the one I have spent my entire life in up to now. I have been in the Dominican Republic for 12 days now, and I have already fallen in love with it. I think this is partly due to the face that I have experienced hope in different ways than I ever have in the United States.
I spent the first week as a counselor at a week-long youth camp run by a ministry called Hope DR. My group of kids, self-named El Generacion de Esperanza (The Generation of Hope), was full of 12 to 17 year olds who taught me more than I could have ever taught them. Something I knew already, but was confirmed with this group, is that kids are kids. There really is no significant difference between them and myself. It didn’t matter that they were Dominican and I was American. It really was kind of insignificant that they speak Spanish and I speak English. One difference I did notice, however, brought me hope. Although they were just teenagers, I saw a willingness and openness to learn about God and what he had for their lives than I had ever seen back home, in both adults and kids. Sure, they did mess around from time to time, but I really felt that for the most part they knew what was being said to them was significant, and worthy of their attention.
I never fully realized just how distracted we are as Americans by everyday life. I didn’t realize all the little things that I took for granted, which also drew my thoughts inward toward myself, and away from God. As I write this, I am covered in bug bites, paired with the worst sunburn of my life, living in a tiny two-bedroom house (which in American would certainly be considered a shack). Yet, I am joyful, and I am hopeful.
I can say with confidence that I am experiencing more hope right now than I ever have in my entire life. This is a supernatural hope that I cannot explain outside the grace and strength of the Lord.
Two days ago, I received a phone call that every World Racer dreads: my father was rushed to the hospital, and is not doing well. And I am not there. The last time this happened I was with him, in person, every day for three weeks. I prayed for him, I encouraged him, I pushed him, I fought for him. But I am not there this time. I am far away in a different country with little communication about what exactly is going on. Yet I have hope, and this hope will not fade. I have hope my dad will get better, and I have hope that this is all part of God’s plan. I know that no matter what, God is still good, and that gives me all the hope I ever need.
I know that I am called to be on the World Race. I know that I am supposed to be in the Dominican Republic right now, following hard after Jesus. I am trusting that the hope of the Lord will continue to be the strength I need to get through this insanely difficult time, and even harder life. Life is not supposed to be easy, or comfortable, or fully comprehendible. Life is supposed to be lived for the perfect purposes of God, and so that is what I am going to do. I am going to live the life He purposed for me, and I am going to have hope.
Right now, if you could please keep my dad, Tom, in your prayers, it would mean that world to me. Pray for healing for his lungs (he has severe COPD), and peace throughout this time, as I know he is also going through tremendous anxiety.
Also please prayerfully consider giving financially to help me meet my next deadline of $11,000 in October to stay on the World Race.
Thank you for taking the time to read this, much love, and God Bless,
Andrew
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