“It’s okay to not be okay.”
Most of you have probably heard this phrase before. Lord knows P-squad has. Countless times. Maybe you had a trusted friend tell you that having a meltdown over a break-up is okay. Or perhaps you sat with a family member in a hospital waiting room and fought anxious tears while awaiting news from a doctor. The list could go on…but the bottom line is, you’ve been told, “it’s okay to not be okay.”
For P-squad, we’ve heard this from family and supporters at home. Our team leaders have reiterated this truth during our nightly team meetings. Our alumni and raised-up squad leaders have told us time and time again during our one-on-ones, “it’s okay to not be okay.”
But what does that really mean?
For me…this is what ‘not okay’ looks like these days. #vulnerability (Don’t worry, I’m going to finish the story, at least…the amount that God has written anyway) It looks like sitting silently in the very back corner on an hour-long bus ride at 10PM upon arrival to Kuala Lumpur, counting the number of toll booths we used (five). And today, it looked like putting my hammock up in the sweaty evening in the middle of the courtyard of our small hotel near the beach in Malaysia…and just crying. No reason. Just tears. Other times, not being okay looks like incredible frustration with the seemingly asinine transportation/communication/general functioning of living abroad. And all too often, this frustration turns into a way-too-fleshly exchange with a local, or a snotty comment behind their back to whichever fellow racer happens to be with me. #realtalk
But most times, not being okay looks like sitting with a friend while they confess a sin struggle they’ve never uttered out loud in their entire lives, and responding with grace and affirmation. Not being okay looks like being patient with 45-hour long cross-country bus rides, border officials, and learning a new currency every few weeks. For a world racer, not being okay looks like getting up in the morning. It looks like making your coffee with the instant packets you’ve been careful to make last all the way to month 5 of this journey. It’s changing your sleeping arrangement every single night…just because. And even still more applicable to P squad, not being okay looks like pulling the night shift at the hospital for your teammate who was paralyzed in a car accident. Maybe it looks like waiting for your friend to get off the phone because you know they are getting news from home about her dad’s cancer, ready and willing to pray and cry with them at a moment’s notice. Or it looks like seeing the destruction of a massive 7.4 magnitude earthquake in rural Nepal and rushing to the scene to clear rubble and help find survivors. Body extractions.
None of these are dramatized. These are all real circumstances.
These just scratch the surface of the many encounters with pain and suffering that P squad has encountered in the first half of our World Race journey. And considering we have just arrived in Southeast Asia, we know there is much in store.
And here’s where the realness will continue.
There are a lot of people on our squad who are totally fine. The earthquake didn’t rattle them, didn’t shake them. They are feeling stronger than ever.
I am not one of those people.
Yup, I said the big thing that a lot of people don’t seem quite ready to say. And that’s okay. But circumstantially, I’ve been through the ringer since my moto accident in Month 3. I’ve had several hospital visits for the injury and for sickness (a wicked bout of bronchitis/pneumonia), one of my dearest friends in this whole world left the race for personal reasons, and I’ve experienced personal tragedies at home. (the list could go on and on) According to the worldly blows that have come my way over the course of the past 8-10 weeks, I should just curl up in a ball and cry.
And if I’m being real…sometimes I want to.
On the World Race sometimes all I want to do is teleport home to my comfy bed, my mom, and the security of being somewhere that I know every nook and cranny. Sometimes I just want to sit on the patio at Mozart’s, sip my iced coffee, listen to NEEDTOBREATHE, and people-watch. Sometimes I just want to sit on the porch with my mom when she gets home from work and have a glass of wine in silence…literally watching the day drift away. There are so many things I want on the World Race.
But what if that question came to “what do I need?”
I need Jesus.
The list would literally end there.
It’s okay to not be okay…because we’re all not okay. Not a single one of us are okay. Anyone who says they’re okay is lying, or in denial. But let’s be clear, not being okay does not equate to being miserable. Or to having a total lack of joy. Not being okay is the reality of the human condition. It’s the reality of living in a fallen world that ever-so-desperately needs Jesus. Not being okay means you have a heart, one that feels, processes, and encounters real emotion and experience. One that grieves and celebrates. Not being okay means you’ve felt real pain. It means you have a genuine understanding of the sometimes harsh reality of
YOU ARE NOT ENOUGH.
But here’s the good news. We weren’t left in our “not okayness.” We weren’t abandoned, forgotten, or tossed aside. We weren’t left to fend for ourselves or just “figure it out.” Our Abba Father made the ultimate provision. He sent His perfect Son to be the good and perfect sacrifice that would cover all of our “not okayness.” We sure as heck aren’t enough. And praise God for that, because if we’re honest with ourselves, like…really honest…most of us wouldn’t want things to actually hinge on ‘how well we lived our lives’ or ‘how good we were’…
Not being okay looks like banking on this truth:
“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
Not being okay looks like telling your friends you’re not okay.
Not being okay looks like giving yourself the same grace that Jesus gives us everyday.
Not being okay looks like being part of the biggest club of ‘not okay’ people.
Not being okay ALSO looks like:
-trusting God more than you ever have before
-trusting community in a way you’ve never imagined
-standing more confidently in who you are, knowing that who you are has nothing to do with you and everything to do with Jesus
-having the humility necessary to say “I’m not okay, just give me Jesus.”
