Meeting your husband on an international mission trip while passionately sharing the gospel: It’s what every Christian girl dreams about. Okay, maybe not every girl, but at least those who fantasize about being missionaries and church planters and becoming more and more like Christ.
Males on the race are rare. On my squad, there are 36 women and 10 men. When people say that Jesus-loving 20-something men who are completely sold out to Jesus and living according to His will (you know, regularly reading their Bibles, attending church, repenting for their sins, etc.) are not a rarity, I tend to scoff at them. Seriously, y’all? Look around. How many do you see in your church? I guarantee it is fewer than the number of 20-something females. Now, the single, 20-something, sold-out-to-Jesus male? He’s an endangered species. Most of the men who are serious about Jesus are also serious about marriage, meaning they get married pretty early on in their twenties.
When you agree to go on the race, you sign a contract stating that you will not enter into a relationship while on the race. If you are in a relationship prior to signing aforementioned contract, you may continue dating whomever, while acknowledging that your life for the next year will probably be ridiculously difficult (even more so).
Life on the race often looks like pursuing a life of focus. Focus on Jesus. Focus on your ministry. Focus on your team. Focus on being present.
Let me just say this: there is cause for distraction. All of the men on my squad are very attractive. In the physical way, yes, but most importantly they are men of integrity, character and godliness. They serve well. They listen well. They lead well. They work hard to protect us and sometimes even carry our things without grumbling.
But I haven’t fallen in love with one of them. They are spectacular men, but they are not Jesus.
Sometimes you manage to fall head over heels for things you already knew, but didn’t quite grasp. Things like knowing you’re absolutely, indefinitely loved and were died for. Or that you are a daughter of God, the creator of the universe, and He cares intimately (and jealously) enough to both know and listen to you describe what you think and feel. Or that He longs to communicate with you, and does so often if you listen well. I didn’t fall in love with a man while sharing the gospel. I fell in love with the gospel.
Sometimes you fall in love with playing kickball in a mud field in a village where some of the walls of the homes are made of plastic tarp. Sometimes you fall in love with people who wonder where their next meal will come from, and you are deeply moved by their consistent joy despite their circumstance.
This has been my experience. I’ve fallen in love with people and places, and the way God loves and pursues me so passionately. When you enjoy international travel as much as I do, and you do it often, I think you start to question whether or not your capacity to love people and places deeply will suddenly run dry, and you’ll be left with a heart of indifference.
Thankfully, God is gracious, and I have continued to be molded and changed by the love I’ve developed for the people of Quiché, Guatemala and the people of Chicigalpa, Chinandega, Nicaragua. I’m praying the same will be true of Heredia, Costa Rica, where we’re heading next month.
I hope you, too, can fall in love with Jesus and the miraculous gospel of grace. It comes highly recommended.
Grace and peace,
Sarah
