My life has been a series of blessings. I have parents who love me unconditionally, siblings who will fight for me, and friends who laugh with me. I have gone from one season of life to the next without much opposition and loads of support from most people in my life… I’m lucky enough to have had each decision and transition include bringing the kingdom of heaven to earth in some way. I have also been blessed with parents who have a mission mindset, and wanted us kids to have the same. From the time I was 9 I have been traveling around the world serving in so many different capacities. Like I said before, I have had a blessed life. This is all I have ever known, talking about Jesus and making him known. But this also has a learning process, just like accepting Jesus at a later time.
It’s sounds pretty amazing, and it honestly has been, but it comes with its own speed bumps as well… And those weren’t really clear to me until recently.
My heart has never really been broken for the lost.
For my entire life I have loved Jesus. Always have, always will. But my entire life I have had non-Christian friends, and I ran with the concept of “God doesn’t need me, but He wants me.” In my head, the Holy Spirit just did all the work and I just got a front row seat to the amazing work He was wanting to do. This led to a numbing of my heart. With this way of thinking there was nothing I could really do to save my friends… So I kind of just shrugged it off. I took the rejection as more towards me than rejecting Jesus himself at this point in their life. So I just kept on moving with life thinking that my time trying to convince them was done. Being on the race I encounter people who don’t know Jesus daily, and all I can think about in that moment is how bad I want for them to know Jesus. Then we leave their presence moments later and I return to my way of thinking, there was nothing I could really do anyways… But I want my heart to break. I want to weep. I want to cry for these people, but I’ve become so numb to it that no emotion comes.
I sometimes feel like I don’t have a story.
On the race I have encountered people with crazy stories of how Jesus has redeemed them, strangers and squad-mates alike. People coming out of drug and alcohol addiction, abuse and assault, insane amounts of grief and pain but yet they still find hope in the Lord. They can truly say where they were before Jesus, what moment they first experienced the love of Jesus, and where they have gotten now that they are following Jesus. I can say that I accepted Jesus when I was 4 and have followed him ever since. I have never experienced what it’s like to have my life flipped around 180 degrees because of my love for Christ. Because of this I have had a hard time relating. I have had a harder time than I expected relating to people who are in the middle of these unfortunate circumstances. I know I am blessed. I know I have a story, but sometimes on the race your insecurities just come out.
When it comes to mission trips it’s much the same. I’m blessed to have had my passion for missions and traveling ignited at such a young age, but as the race continues I’m reminded of the things I miss out on having grown up this way.
The poor, needy, and sick don’t phase me anymore.
I’ve seen the sick. I’ve worked in orphanages. I’ve worked in a school where their building is just 4 tin walls and a roof. I’ve seen people running for their lives in hopes for freedom. I’ve seen death. I’ve seen the homeless. You name it, I’ve probably seen it on the field. I’m not saying this to draw attention to myself and all that I’ve done, but to say once again that I’ve become numb. I see these things and thoughts of, “Well thats life here, there isn’t really anything I can do about it,” come about. I see these things and they have become so normalized for me that I don’t even give the need a second thought. I long to help these people, but the term “out of sight, out of mind” has never rung so true.
I’m used to goodbyes.
At this point you can probably assume why. Having worked with 10+ ministries worldwide, there was always the end of that trip (or that month on the race). That’s 10+ goodbyes I have had to say. The first few times it was hard. Really hard. Tears were shed and hopes to go back to those places were high. Time went on and the goodbyes got easier and the hopes to go back lessened when reality set in. Life tends to get in the way… The only time you may ever see these people may be on that trip, or that month, so I learned to try to invest more in those circumstances.
I know I have grown up with a super incredible life and I wouldn’t change anything about it in a heartbeat, but I’ve had to accept the fact that I won’t necessarily have that same emotions as everyone else. God made my story different than everyone else’s and that’s something to be proud of. God made my heart and passions just the way they are for all the trips I have and will take. God will use me despite the feelings I feel and the obstacles I will overcome.
In Him,
Caleb Callaway
