Before the race, I was sitting at lunch with a mentor of mine, and our conversation led to Christ’s return. A subject that has always been uneasy for me. As a believer and one who loves the Lord, I felt like I should desire his return. If I am being completely honest though, I didn’t want or desire for him to return. Obviously, I love my savior and I long to be in his presence, but I just felt like I had so much in life to live for and more people to meet. My life was great, too! I loved my job, my church, and the direction my life was going. I had a great community of close friends and a lot of great dreams and memories. To be honest, I felt like I was living in heaven now. So sitting with that mentor that day, I told him that I honestly didn’t want Christ to return yet.
Leaving on the World Race a few days later, I didn’t know how much my view on life would change. Everyday I have the opportunity to experience something new and meet someone new. I move to a different country every month. Therefore every month has new food, religion, customs, languages, and people. I live out of my backpack and walk everywhere. My team changes all the time, and nothing is guaranteed to stay the same. While this lifestyle is so stretching and uncomfortable at times, I have learned that this is exactly where God desires me to be.
My first month of the race in Honduras, I grew attached to a kid named Alex. This kid was the definition of radiant joy. I have never seen a kid smile so much. Everything was an adventure to him, and he would sometimes let me come along. ha. He would sit by me when I would work and he would hang by my side until I went to bed for the night. I never heard him complain about anything. One morning he sat beside me during church and I noticed that he had scars all over his face. I didn’t notice them much before because the kid’s face was always messy, but he cleaned up for church, and when I noticed them that morning, I became curious of the story behind them.
One day, I caught a ride into town with my missionary contact, and she was asking me all kinds of questions. She asked the normal questions about my life at home, and what I planned to do after the race. This month being month one, I still had no idea what I was going to return home like. Then got on the subject of the kids at the orphanage. She noticed that Alex really liked me, so she told me his story that day. A story about a mother who had placed her son in a hot oven to punish him. My heart broke for this kid, and I began to hurt for my friend. The story didn’t end there because God is so good, and deeply cares for his children. She told me that when he first came to the orphanage with his siblings, he would just sit down in the rocks screaming and throwing anything he could get his hands on. He was hurt and confused about everything. No one could be around him for the longest time, because he would never let anyone close to him. This kid didn’t know what love or safety felt like until he arrived at this home. He experienced Jesus because she prayed over him and stepped in as his mother. He loves church and worship because people had happiness and laughed often. The Lord broke through the pain in his heart and gave joy, and I can say that I have never seen anyone so happy. Even though Alex is 8 years old, he loves and seeks the Lord, because he knows what hurt looks like and he knows what his savior has done. I didn’t know this then, but this story became one of many that I have seen and met while on my race.
In Guatemala, I spent time in a hospital, where there was so much need and not enough resources. I met beggars with no legs, who would drag themselves around on the hot pavement their entire lives begging for food to live. I saw homeless children on the streets fighting to survive despite what it cost them. I experienced a culture that was so engulfed by a spirit of poverty and turmoil, that life for these people seemed so hopeless. They needed Jesus, because he is the only one that could change everything.
I lived in an Orphanage in El Salvador filled with kids that had been abandoned, raped, and left for dead. There I met a teenager who spent 17 years at the orphanage and chose to stay because he saw a need to pastor the children at the home and school. The first time I met this man, I noticed he also had scars all over his face. His scars where around his mouth though. One day while mixing concrete he told a story about a 2 year old boy being held down by his grandma who burned off his lips. He didn’t seem to have any anger towards her at all, he just explained that she was sick and hurt. That’s how he ended up at the orphanage. He spoke english, because he had come to the states many times to receive surgery on his mouth. He knew that the Lord had saved him, and he wanted to use his voice to tell people about his God. The one thing the enemy tried to take from him, he uses everyday to glorify his father.
While these stories are just a few of the people that I have met so far, they have given me such a different perspective. Life once was about myself, and that is why I didn’t long for heaven. But God has shown me that heaven isn’t about my life at all. It’s about my brothers and sisters that have suffered and are still suffering. Heaven is the only way they will find rest and joy. It’s easy to see life from your prospective, but I have learned that when we die to ourselves we take on a new perspective. A perspective not viewed from our eyes, but instead viewed from the eyes of the father. He longs to return and bring his children home to a place where they will suffer no more and that is more important then my selfish wants. These people live far away, but they are my brothers and sisters now. It’s different seeing these faces on television, and then talking with them face to face. My desire is FREEDOM for them at what ever cost that may be.
