**Posted Two Weeks After Being Written**
When I signed up for The World Race, I don’t know what I was thinking.
I’m not sure what I imagined I would be doing, but I know that my time in Peru was far from my expectations.
Peru was scary.
Reading that last line, you may think I say that because of the flooding I blogged about last, or maybe about the water supply, which ran out again the day after my blog post about having water again. Or maybe it was scary because we didn’t know how we’d get out of Trujillo because the floods washed away all the roads leaving the city. Or maybe it was fear of the unknown? But no, that wasn’t it.
When you live in community for long enough, there will be moments where you get to see the best of those around you and the best of yourself, but there will also be moments when their worst and your worst comes to the surface. This month, I experienced the worst of me, and it scared me.
It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t even selfishness, it was a silent battle, a dangerous one.
We ran out of water, yes, a difficult challenge. We ran out of money; our budget was broke shortly after the floods caused everything to triple in cost. Our security was constantly being challenged, sketchy taxi rides, taxis getting into car crashes or caught in flood waters – we weren’t always safe. All those things combined, and my team was okay. We didn’t often voice any feelings of fear or timidity, we just kept going because that’s why we were there and we knew God was with us.
But my inside dialog, my heart, it was screaming at me that I was nuts. This month, I battled with my own desire to be there. I had the devil whispering in my ear that this was pointless, that there wasn’t anything we could do for these people, that I was inadequate and wasting people’s time and money. There were nights where I was so tired and exhausted that I let it out on my team, I was grumpy and didn’t have must to say, and they had to feel the heat of that. I didn’t give an explanation, I just went to bed, quietly.
Who could love a human like me? Who could love me really, through my moodiness, my skillful ability to pull away when being reached out to? Who would actually want to love a person like me, someone who looks around her and sees devastation, and wants to hide? Am I even qualified to be on the race? Am I even qualified to be a good wife soon? Am I even enough?
It was that battle that scared me. I saw the worst of myself, and I didn’t like what I saw. It scared me, seeing that I, bubbly, twinkle-in-the-eyes young happy human could retreat into my head so deeply that I had nothing to say to anyone. I didn’t want to be this person, I wanted to be fearless, unafraid of the floods and all it brought with it. I wanted to be 100%, to give 100% to the people I was working for, but it was really hard. I was tired, uncomfortable and anxious about everything.
What had I become?
We had a day off a few days before leaving Trujillo, and my team wanted to go on a tour of what was left of the city. There were some ancient ruins and a museum they wanted to see, and I knew that what I wanted/needed was a day of sleep and some time with God. I stayed behind, while the rest of them went out for the day, and spent my day alone in our room.
It’s funny how it can be so hard to own up to my sinful nature. It’s so hard for me to put down my pride and admit that I stink, but the beautiful thing is, as soon as I did it, all I felt was love, forgiveness and relief. The moment I bowed my head and asked God to take this selfishness away, asked for forgiveness and for grace, it was a weight off my shoulders.
“Beautiful girl, don’t you know I already have forgiven you? Don’t you know that it doesn’t have to be this way?”
I spent the day in bed resting, packing up most of my things, trying to sort through my things to make my pack lighter. I felt so much better at the end of the day, rested, restored, and realized that I so often hold out to humble myself before God. Why does it take me so long to just go before God with my problems? I asked myself. The answer? Pride. Man, it does come before a fall. Pride seems to be the root behind most of the problems I have faced in life, and it’s probably that way for most people.
You see, even with all my pride and all my grumpiness or lack of joy that I experienced, God was close to me, holding me, waiting for me to call out so that he could remind me that He is right here. He did just that, and more. He wanted me to give my burdens to him, that was all it took.
There is beauty in brokenness, because it points directly at Jesus. He took it all away before we asked Him to. My whole team struggled this month, probably all with some similar things but also with some different things. We didn’t necessarily come along side each other in the ways we maybe could have, but it just shows us that we have room to grow together and a challenge to fight together. If we’d done perfectly, why would we have a need for Christ? No, the truth us, we will never be perfect, but it is Christ that fills in those holes for us.
We saw food multiplied this month. We saw more than a dozen salvations for Jesus. We got to feed people, bring water to communities, we got to dance with a room full of people, we got to play UNO in Spanish, we got to play hot potato over and over again. We gave massages, manicures and pedicures, and I got to give haircuts to fifteen women who never get pampered. We got to practice speaking English with Andy, a biologist who may get to move to Virginia and go to Virginia Tech to get his masters. We got to talk chemistry and mining with Jorge, because he needed to practice his English and wanted to be better at his presentation on how to mine gold. (I wish I could tell you I understood one of the things he taught me, but I can’t, even though it was all said in excellent English)
So yeah, my flesh and my pride could have made me hate this month, but Jesus made this month worth it. Yes, it was scary to see just how yucky my human flesh could be, and I realize that it will always be a choice – I have to choose joy, I need to constantly choose Jesus to fill me up, He’s the only thing that can. I need to choose my team before myself, I must choose to live this for Him. It’s a choice, and maybe this month I didn’t choose the right thing enough, but that’s where the grace of God overwhelms me, that’s when I’m reminded of why I’m here. God has brought me so far, shown me so much, and I get to live a life like this, a glorious adventure full of crazy food, wonderful people, natural phenomenons, (like floods!) and I get to do it so that I can share what a man shared with me in 2013.
“The creator of the entire universe is crazy in love with you. Even if you were the only person in this whole world, He still would have died for you. No matter what you’ve done or could do, He loves you deeply, desires you, and pursues you. The old is gone, the new is come! Come home to HIm!”
So, here I am, a little worn down, a little more dirty than I was before leaving, but so ready to walk out of the bedroom and outside to where all the little African kiddos are playing soccer, to where my heart first fell in love with this life – because I’m back, people. I’m in Africa, and I’m so excited I could dance.
And I just might.
