As I approach heading back to America in 3 weeks, the thoughts of re-entry have been occupying my mind like a storm. Winds of change, tears of grief, the thrill of storm chasing, and peace in the eye of the storm. I’m fearful of the culture shock, sad over leaving the places that have now become home and this taste of my calling, and beyond excited and eager to see my friends and family again. I know I will be bombarded with questions and expected to tell story after story of what I experienced. They will sit on the edge of their seats, mesmerized by the places I’ve seen and the things I got to do to advance the kingdom of God. I look forward to sharing these stories, but in the midst of these daydreams, I suddenly had a heart check.
Many people, I fear, look at me and my willingness to lay down everything and travel the world for Jesus and make me the hero.
I am not the hero.
Yes, I have experienced amazing things. Yes, I responded to the call. Yes, I was obedient and stepped out of the boat to walk on the water. Yes, I have grown and matured. But I don’t want people celebrating me when I return. Because travelling the world as a missionary for 11 months, I realized that it is not about me.
I am not the hero.
There have been days where I saw blind eyes open. There have been days when I went on a Holy Spirit adventure into Buddhist temples and got to pray for deliverance for a daughter who was plagued by mental instability. There have been days where I woke up and sang to Jesus on a rooftop as I watched the sun rise over the Himalayas. There have been days where I led worship and the presence of God fell thick like the rain. There have been days where I got to love the least of these. There have been days where I got to speak life into my teammates and see them experience a new facet of God. There have been days when I realized I want to do this for the rest of my life. But…
I am not the hero.
There have been days when I wasn’t obedient to the Lord’s leading to stop and pray for someone. There have been days when I was too focused on self and sharing MY story, that I missed the fact my teammate was crying. There have been days when I wanted to not get out of bed because insecurities and depression draped itself on me like a heavy cloak. There have been days when I got annoyed over little things that my teammates did. There have been many days when I gave in to fear instead of faith. There have been days that I have stared my weaknesses in the face and felt powerless.
I am not the hero.
Jesus is the only reason and the only way that I was able to climb to the mountain top highs and walk through the valley lows. He is the only reason I even came on this trip in the first place. Apart from Him, I can do nothing. He is glorified in my successes and my failures, in my strengths and my weaknesses.
I am humbled and honored that people look up to me for my choice to go on the world race and for the things that I have done in obedience. I am grateful for all of your support and encouragement. But I want to make it clear, that as I return home, we give honor where honor is due and lift high the name of Jesus.
Jesus Christ is the hero.
I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.
John 15:5
We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.
2 Corinthians 4:7
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.
2 Corinthians 12:9
