Q&A: Hardest Days

Answer: What were my hardest days?

There was a long night in Nepal where I was up in the cold dark concrete squatty potty, hoping that no one would notice the puke and diarrhea flying out every end.

There were several meals where I knew that if I took one more bite I would die- in India because it was too much food, in Nepal because it was a plate of fish fat, in South Africa it was "half fat spread," in Thailand it was roasted frogs and bugs.

There was a team time when I literally burst into tears- no, uncontrollable sobs- when asked why I had disliked training camp (seems like such a safe subject, right?). There was another team time when I was wrongly accused of something serious but couldn't really prove my innocence.

There were two different days when I watched my team- my family- dissolve right in front of me.

There were a few days I was so sick I couldn't get out of my bed.

Would I repeat them the same way?

I think one of the biggest lessons I've learned this year is the idea of time- or maybe a renewed idea of time.

It's easy to stand on this side of the year (today being the last day of ministry) and say, "I'm glad that moment happened," or "I learned a lot from this experience." Those things are true, certainly, but they're not in a vacuum, either.

Sure, I would have loved to redo the projectile vomit day in Nepal, maybe I would have not gone into that sketchy bar and had the 'chicken' sandwich, choosing the nice missonary- run Mexican place instead.

If I were to go back to some of my more difficult team times, I hope I'd be able to get through them with a little more grace and a LOT more love.

There's a huge part of me that wishes I would have done a little less emotional eating and a little more fervent praying.

We are not made up of our moments, big or small. The daily struggles and successes, failures and fantasies do not define us. I learned a lot from these moments, but it wasn't the moments themselves.