I’m sitting on a rock called a mattress, trying to avoid itching one of the 63 bug bites I have right now, as I type this. I’m close enough to the fan blowing in our room to tell you that it actually once was white, not the brownish red color that it is now. I’m hearing rain in the background, the same rain I’ve heard for the past two and a half days with no let up, and I’m hearing that while I’m sitting on my bed because the window above me – it’s not a window, just a hole in the wall with mesh stapled over it in attempt to keep the bugs out. I’m also writing this with sticky fingers, not from juice or glue, but sticky from the mix of lingering heat and heavy humidity that there simply isn’t an option to escape from, and I’m sitting (not standing) to rest my exhausted feet – tired because the one van on campus can’t fit all 25 people in our group, so we walk miles to get everywhere.
….
I’m sitting on a bed as I’m writing this! Something I never thought I’d have when I saw that REI sleeping pad on the packing list, and not only am I sitting on a bed, but the fan blowing air through our room is a refreshing relief to the 63 bug bites I have right now. I hear soothing sounds of rain, chirping birds, and playful monkeys in the distance, as I sit below the same window that is letting daylight into the room. I’m also writing this with humidity resting on my fingers as a type, just another reminder that we get to wake up to a beautiful rainforest every morning. And I’m sitting with my feet up, tired from a day of ministry. you heard it right, ministry! the exact thing we’ve been looking forward to for the past four months.
….
I just described the same situation in two completely different ways, the first might’ve made you upset and definitely would never be seen on a gap year advertisement, while the second might have given you the urge to hop on a plane and come join us here. A little dramatic, I know, but the point I’m trying to make is that both those descriptions are accurate. and yet neither are the full truth, and neither is the reason I’m here.
The race is hard to describe. some days it’s exhilarating to the point where there is absolutely no place I’d rather be than right where I am. some days it’s so physically exhausting that my sleeping pad feels like a sleep number memory foam mattress. some days it’s so rewarding that it almost convinces me that nothing else in the world is important. some days its so hard, I start to wonder why I chose this instead of college for the year. and still, some days are filled with more joy than I’ve ever felt before. the race is hard to describe because it’s not about where we go or what we do.
The race is about Who we are living for, no matter the country. so the 63 bug bites, hard mattress, and persistent rain – it’s worth it. and the beautiful view, the home cooked food, and the fruit market – those are blessings from our good Provider, reminding us daily that He is faithful.
I’m not here for the location, not here for comfort, and not even here for the experience, but I’m here, my squad is here, because comfort or not, He’s worth it. Instagram-worthy pictures or not, Jesus is worth fighting for. and whether in America or Costa Rica, the Word is living and active.
The race is a great experience, and you’ll probably hear that sentence from any racer you talk to, but ultimately it’s not about the experience. It’s about the Lord. so praise the Lord for a bed, even if the mattress is firm. praise the Lord for daylight, even if it’s shining through a mere mesh covering. and praise the Lord that our labor is never in vain.
God is real and He is moving. whatever you are involved in right now, I promise you, there’s more to life than just your experience. So I encourage you, choose the Lord “as [your] portion and [your] cup … because in [His] presence there is fullness of joy, and at [His] right hand are pleasures forevermore.” (Psalm 16)
