Before I left for the Race, I imagined all the wonderful blogs that I would write. I thought of all the fabulous pictures I would post and all the amazing life lessons I would share with y’all. I would write about people we met on day one of a month and their story of being a different person by the time we left three and a half weeks later. I would write things that would bring tears to your eyes and have you hungry for more. Alas, have you checked my blog lately? I haven’t updated it in three months, your tears are still in your eyes and if you have been hungry for more, by now you are beyond starved. So I wave the white flag and say, “blogging is hard y’all!”
It’s hard to wrap a bow on what is a journey that will probably last longer than just the 11 months I am on the World Race. I am working on loving people how Paul said in 1 Corinthians 13, even if that means letting snotty noses be rubbed on my back and dirty hands be clutched in mine, but I haven’t mastered it yet. (Like when a small child ran at me this month with part of a chicken fetus in her hand, I just couldn’t bring myself to then hold her hand right after she dropped it). I’m working on speaking with all boldness like Paul wishes for at the end of Ephesians, even if it means standing up on a South African bus to tell them why we are here and invite people to sit next to us if they want to chat further, but I haven’t mastered it yet. I am working on being generous and not keeping things in my storehouse like in Malachi, but still hold back due to fear of being the missionary that hurts rather than helps. So sometimes it’s hard to explain what God is teaching me because I’m still not perfect at it yet.
It’s hard to convey the stories of the people that we meet. Stories are a precious thing that can be conveyed in a few sentences, but carry years of hurt and pain that I can’t even grasp. This month we met a woman who walks with a limp because she watched men murder her mom and when she tried to fight back, they smashed her leg with a brick. How do I tell her story and others’ like that? How could I NOT tell those stories? We met her just for a few moments to pray with her and encourage her. I know theologically that isn’t what He would have ever chosen for her, but rather it is a result of living in a fallen world. I know The Lord has not forgotten her because after a major flood in 2013 when people lost everything, He made a way for her to end up at a refugee camp and now in government houses. He sends Christian community leaders to meet with her and care for her. I haven’t seen her again to write a full story of what is going on with her. On top of that, we hear stories like this day after day, constantly hearing the heartbreaking situations that happen in this world. So it’s hard for me to always write stories of the people. The Disney watcher in me growing up wants there to be a happy ending where the princess wakes up or the beast turns into a man again, but in short-term missions, we don’t always see those happy endings. More often than not, we are one of the hundred Christians they may meet before deciding that maybe this Jesus guy really does love them and want a relationship with them.
How often do we opt out of things because we can’t quickly see the happy ending or wrap it all in a bow? In many ways, life is a short-term mission trip. You may spend your life spreading Jesus love and not see everything that comes from it, but do it anyways, share it with people anyways, and ask The Lord for more opportunities anyways. We are promised in Hebrews 11 (an area of scripture I have spent a ton of time in on the Race) that all the amazing people listed the chapter-David, Moses, Abel, Abraham-people whom scripture says that world was not worthy, “though commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised” (Hebrews 11:39) while here on earth. What was waiting for them was a heavenly treasure, and they grasped the fact that a happy ending need not be found while here on earth, God’s promise that heaven would far surpass anything we could imagine here was enough to keep them going. Even back in Dallas, I mentored a little girl for YEARS before I ever got to have a meaningful conversation with her, and many times I was tempted to give up for lack of instant results. One evening, though, right before I left Dallas, I went to her house and she naturally asked all sorts of questions about Jesus. I drove back over the Hunt Bridge celebrating that Jesus let me be part of that.
All of that to say, I’m sorry that I haven’t blogged more. I’m sorry I haven’t shared more of the tough moments that I myself don’t know answers to, but am willing to wrestle through. I’m sorry I haven’t included you on the small celebrations that are amounting to shaping me as a woman of Christ. I’m sorry I bought into the lie that you only wanted to read perfect, results driven writing. I will do better. I will write you blogs where I admit I don’t have the answer, but do have faith The Lord knows what He is doing always. I won’t wait for them to have a perfect Danny Tanner ending, I’ll trust that God will use them in people’s lives however He wishes. I will share with you the glory of God that I am finding in all the stretches of the earth, glory that says He hasn’t forgotten His people and He hasn’t stopped beckoning people’s hearts. God is good all the time and we live in a fallen world that tries to blind us from seeing His goodness. I will be one that writes of the good, the bad, and the ugly, knowing that Jesus will make it all right one day and is using me as His hands and feet in these little areas of the world in order to shine light in the darkness. I will tell you stories of street boys being loved through soccer, huts being built for widowed and abandoned, missionaries who are ordinary people doing extraordinary things, stories of life change only God can create, stories that include the heartbreak of living in a fallen world, and stories that call all of us to choose to live a better story. I worship an all powerful God who is writing magnificent stories daily and I want to be a part of them. Let’s go.
