“How you feeling about your trip?”
I hear this question a lot now.
I presume most people expect to hear my excitement. My longing to leave my desk job and 9-to-5 routine for a life of adventure. My passion to see the world and what Jesus will do.
But mostly, my answer is just a blank-eyed shrug.
Truth be told, it’s been hard to think about this trip. I want to pour all of myself into this trip, but it’s so hard when I feel all of myself being poured into New York City. These past few months have been so intensely busy with work and outside activities, I’ve barely had time to sit and meditate on this trip, let alone keep up with the intense group chat my Squad has been using to stay connected. Given my brain’s tendency to compartmentalize, the contrast of my NYC life against the one I’m about to lead makes this whole thing kind of unfathomable.
(But in true God fashion, it’s also kind of hilarious.)
It’s like one day I’m strutting around high-society New York City, and then *POOF* I’m suddenly some rugged world traveler living in a tent and pooping in the woods.
Here I am nestled comfortably in a plush seat in an air-conditioned theatre with well-dressed New Yorkers, watching a Broadway play about African war brides, when next year I may very well befriend real women like the ones on stage.
Here I am walking through the cement canyons of the city, passing Wall Street fat cats and high-fashion clothing stores, dressed in rugged outdoor wear, Chacos and a giant travel pack in preparation for my upcoming hiking journeys.
Here I am attending a swanky Broadway awards show in a black suit, surrounded by Hollywood and Broadway big-leaguers, realizing that one year down the road I’ll be on a hot dusty road in the middle of Africa sweating through my grimy unwashed t-shirt.
I don’t know what the heck is going on, but I feel like two different people right now. And given that I can really only be one person at the same time, I feel very… confused.
I was told this would happen.
The confusion.
When people ask me how I’m feeling about the trip, I try to explain to them how torn I feel. I can’t wait for the adventure ahead. To meet people from different cultures and backgrounds, and to experience life with them. To move in incredible faith and Holy Spirit power. To get to really live out my faith and expand my perspective on the world and on the Lord. I can’t wait to see breakthrough happen in people I meet. And in myself.
But my current life in New York City is everything I could’ve hoped it would be. It’s where I feel I belong, where I feel understood, where I see my gifts and career interests being best utilized, it’s where I feel momentum and passion and inspiration… In many ways, I feel like I’m living my best life now; I’ve got something good here, and I’m desperate to cling to it. I’ve spent my whole life wanting to live in New York City, and after a year of living here, I’m leaving.
There’s some days when I wonder if I made a mistake.
I was told this also would happen.
The regret.
But in the past month, as I’ve been preparing to move back home and start my new life, God has been filling me with so much supernatural peace. In times where I’m tempted to consider dropping out, I’m reminded of the unbelievable miraculous provision that has come forth already. I feel purpose in knowing that this new season will bring out so much more in myself and in the Lord than it would have if I stayed comfortably in my current life. As I’ve been merging towards the New York exit ramp, I’m starting to feel my perspective change. And in this shift, God has helped me see that while everything around me will suddenly start to change in the coming months, He will be the one thing that remain the same.
So now, I’m residing in the joy and peace that both lives have been lovingly granted to me by my God. But more importantly, I’m reminded that regardless of what my life looks like, my purpose remains the same.
Whether I’m dressed to the nines, or I’m covered in sweat and bug bites, I’m here for Jesus.
Whether I’m in New York City, or I’m in the Thai wilderness, I’m here for Jesus.
Whether I’m surrounded by millions of people, or I’m sitting in a small hut with one person, I’m here for Jesus.
While I may feel like a completely different person on the World Race than I do in New York City, I’m reminded that I’m still the same person who has experienced both lives. I still have the same stories, same struggles, same fears, same heart, same boldness, and same need for Jesus. Nothing will get miraculously easier just because I’m on the missions field. I’ll still be required to die to myself daily, even if my day-to-day schedule involves more ministry than I’m used to back home.
I love both my New York life and my World Race life. I love my New York family and my World Race family. I love my New York God and my World Race God.
I’m lucky that even though life is a rollercoaster, with many unconventional seasons, God is still the same God over it all.
“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” HEBREWS 13:8.
