It is Easter weekend here. So after only one day on the construction site, we are already off again for a four-day holiday! By yesterday afternoon I was already super antsy, so my friend Alys and I took a long walk out into the farmland that surrounds our home. For a full hour we ambled deeper into the vast flatness until every direction was green and dirt and sky. Our conversation was as full and vast as the landscape. But one topic stood out above the rest, and I continue to mull over it as I wake up on this Saturday morning with a cappuccino, my Bible and journal…
Multiple times so far on the Race, I’ve been asked by squad-mates and friends from home, “If you were to come home right now, how would you be different from when you started?” Sometimes it’s easy to answer the query, and other times I’ve had to pause and think long and hard. In my conversation with Alys, we talked about how hard it will be to go home in eight months. My heart longs to see all of you, my family and friends, but nothing in me right now is ready to be back in the US. If I could have you all here with me, I would be content to live the rest of my life without ever setting foot back in my native land! And there are so many other aspects of the race that have my heart – living in community with people who spur me on each and every day, continual change and new experiences, new sights, new smells, new languages, new challenges.
Me and Alys on our walk around the farm
“Now I understand why people say that this will ruin you for the ordinary,” Alys commented, and I had to agree. And yet as I thought about it, I realized something awesome. By far the biggest aspect of the adventure we are on – the greatest unknown and most enthralling area of discovery – is the Lord. And that will never change! Though our lives may lose the sensationalism of constant transition and travel, the stimulation of new foods and people and languages and landscapes, we will continue forever on the ultimate adventure of discovering new depths of our Savior, new facets of His character, deeper awareness of His love, greater freedom in His embrace, and vaster understanding of His heart and the place that it collides with ours.
Endless Romanian farmland
Isaiah 40, a chapter that I memorized years and years ago, has been encouraging and challenging me once again in the past couple weeks. One section hit me especially hard a few days ago: “Shout that people are like the grass. Their beauty fades as quickly as the flowers in a field. The grass withers and the flowers fade beneath the breath of the Lord. And so it is with people. The grass withers and the flowers fade, but the word of our God stands forever.” (vv. 6-8) I wonder if I woke up tomorrow morning and found myself gray and wrinkled, with creaky joints and a raspy voice, how much would it crush me? Is my hope in my youth and my strength and my appearance? Or is my hope and my joy and my purpose so wrapped up in the Lord that losing all those things would not even phase me? The latter is my desire and my goal!
With those thoughts, this is my prayer this morning as we prepare to celebrate Christ’s victory over death tomorrow, and each and every day to come!
Father, let my being sing out in worship from my very core, even when my lips cannot form the words or do not know the language! Come be the Fire inside of me! That every other stimulation, thrill, promise and hope would pale in comparison to You. That if this place and these people were stripped away, I would be fully content simply by Your presence! That if I woke up right now and realized all of this was a dream, that my life on the Race was not real, I would be okay and not devastated. Because the greatest thing I’ve gained is not new friends, or awesome traveling experiences, or cool ministry opportunities, but a closer intimacy with my Jesus.
Amen.
