Let me set the scene:
It’s a bustling city filled with world travelers, business owners, and new friends. The streets are loud and busy—filled with so many colors you almost have to squint to see them all. Everywhere you look is an opportunity to buy. You see decadent sweaters, cheap jewelry, scarves, hand-carved flutes… everything your heart desires. You barter with the venders to get the price you want. Success.
You feel comfortable here. Europeans and Americans alike push past you, wearing familiar backpacks and speaking a language you recognize. There’s wifi in every coffee house and for the most part, you can read the menus. There are tourist agencies on every corner for the thrill-seeker in you and more live music than your ears could ever hear.
It’s a beautiful city.
You celebrate your birthday with a nice meal and red wine and hop off to the next location for a change of pace. A change of pace is exactly what you get.
The shops are closed down. The blinking lights don’t hide the darkness. You’re approached several times in the short walk and asked if you want drugs. You’re almost lured into a booming strip club. And then a little boy comes up to you, covered in dirt and tattered clothing, and asks for money. You watch as another lays down in the street to go to sleep for the night.
It’s a broken city.
My heart breaks. Kathmandu has stolen it right out of my chest. This month has been fun—it’s been so much fun. My team and I have celebrated and fallen in love with each other and taken advantage of being in a big city. That’s what you see, right? The fun we’ve been having. We take pictures and videos in an attempt to capture the blessings we’ve received by being here this month. So that’s what we post and that’s what we talk about because somehow it’s easier.
But there’s another side to our story.
This month has been hard. It has broken my heart like no place before. Our ministry varies from day to day but the one constant is that it always hurts. We’ve spent a few days in the largest slum in Kathmandu. We’ve had tea with the pastor who, with tear-filled eyes, explained how the earthquake cracked their only church building, leaving it unsafe for worship. We preached in that very building.
We served food to hundreds of kids in the same slum whose only source of nourishment that day came from our tired hands. We visited a tent city that was built after the earthquake; a city within a city that over 300 families still call home six months later. We fought with them as they forced us to take and eat the food they were preparing. We were invited into their homes—tarps carefully tied to bamboo poles and filled with whatever possessions they were able to salvage from the destruction of their former homes. We saw the hope in their eyes even when the world gives them no reason to hope.
Tomorrow, we will go to a leper colony. We will lay our hands on those that society deems untouchable. Two days later, we will get on a bus and drive 7 hours to the Annapurna mountain range. Then, we’ll spend 3 days trekking in the mountains to arrive at unreached communities. The people who live in these villages live in some of the harshest conditions in the entire world… and they have never heard the gospel. Our goal is to bring them the light and hope of Jesus Christ by simply loving them, telling them our stories, hearing their stories, and showing them the love that Jesus has commanded from us.
I’m often told that it looks like I’m “having the time of my life!” And it’s true. I am. But I aim to spend the rest of my life living in this freedom, this commitment, and this mindset. I post pictures of myself riding on the tops of busses, or of the time I put lipstick on for my 23rd birthday, or of my team making a blanket fort in our bedroom. I post these things and I tell you about them simply because they are a part of life. This World Race is no longer an 11 month journey for me… it’s become life. It’s become normal. Fun is a part of that life and so is strife and grief and pain and heartache and joy and gratitude and love and change.
I often err on the side of leaving my camera at home or in my bag while I’m at ministry because to barge into someone’s home and demand a smile is not why I’m here. To exploit the sweet kids at the children’s home by forcing pictures and videos is inauthentic and can be catastrophic. I want my life to be authentic and I want to share with you both the joy and the suffering. There’s a lot of both.
Next week, I’ll be leaving this city. This beautiful, broken city. Although I’m getting used to goodbyes and beginnings, this will be a hard one. I’m entering into month 6 of this tiny fraction of life and I’m beyond excited to see what it brings. I will continue to impact and I will continue to be impacted. I will give my all in an attempt to mend and I will break in the process. I will help and I will try my hardest not to hurt. I will grow and I will push others to grow with me. I will continue to live out Jesus’ calling for my life by bringing his unconditional, stringless love to people of all nations and I will learn from his example and love them—not despite their differences—but because of them.
Today, I’m exactly $4,500 short of being fully funded. If I don’t reach that deadline by January 1st, I will be sent home. My journey on the World Race will end, but my life will not and my work will not. But I so strongly feel that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be and exactly what I’m supposed to be doing. So I humbly ask each of you reading this to consider donating to my mission of spreading Christ’s love. You can do so by clicking “Support Me!” on the left-hand side of this page and entering in any amount you’re able. I’m currently doing a campaign, asking 100 people to donate $45 each. No matter what amount you’re able, whether it’s $4 or $400, every dollar and every prayer counts.
I’m here because of you. People who believe in Jesus and believe that I am doing his work. “Thank you” will never do justice to the gratitude that I feel when I think of my supporters, those devoted to helping my dream and my mission. But thank you for your consideration, thank you for your love, thank you for your support, your donations, and your commitment. $4500 is nothing to God, and I have complete faith that He will provide. He always does.
