Dear Gap J,
we are almost home. We have almost reached the land of chickfila and taco bell, of family and friends, of familiarity and comfort. We have run this race with such endurance, strength, perseverance, and humility. And the times we lost ourselves among the brokenness, we found each other in the Father’s arms. We ran from the city streets, Andes mountains, and wet rain forest of Ecuador, to the far off lands filled with rice fields, jungles, and mountains of northeast India, to the hidden corners, wild waterfalls, and busy streets of Zambia. We have run around this world finding healing and freedom and safety in community. We have seen wonders and miracles in the little moment of a child’s laugh and the glorious moment of a woman walking for the first time. We have lived in corners of the world most of us didn’t even know existed until we got there ourselves, and we have found a friend in the Father throughout every waking and resting moment. Together, we have run well, we have run steady and we have sought the Lord among the exhaustion and joy alike. But this journey together is almost over. We are almost home.
Almost.
This week I was wrestling with the Lord on the grief that is the end. I’ve found myself in crippling sadness, overwhelming gratitude, and pure awe at what our sweet Jesus has brought us through and what he has chosen to use us for this past year. Its pretty amazing- this thing called the World Race. It is nothing short of a long, steady, jog that requires all the endurance we can gain from the spirit. But I think somewhere along the way, we forgot what it looked like to walk. As the end draws nearer, we run as fast as we can to the finish line, and somewhere in the sprint, we have fallen asleep from exhaustion. The world reminds us daily of the end, the comfort, the family, the excitement. It beckons us toward the finish line, calling us to give up and give in to the comfort we have forfeited for something greater the past nine months. In this world, we have found ourselves asleep.
Luke 8:51-55
When He came to the house, He did not allow anyone to enter with Him, except Peter and John and James, and the girl’s father and mother. Now they were all weeping and lamenting for her; but He said, “Stop weeping, for she has not died, but is asleep.” And they began laughing at Him, knowing that she had died. He, however, took her by the hand and called, saying, “Child, arise!” And her spirit returned, and she got up immediately; and He gave orders for something to be given her to eat.
This, my sweet family, is our Jesus, our friend, our almighty savior who chooses daily to call us up and call us out. We may be caught up in the hope of home and in the excitement of familiarity and reunion, which honestly isn’t bad. But don’t let Satan take the beauty of this excitement and turn it into a renewed love for the world and its comforts that we all know are not nearly as wonderful as the life gifted to us by the Father. The enemy may be laughing, calling us dead, luring us into home with his hands, clawing at our desires and telling us that what we have now isn’t good enough anymore.
But Jesus. Jesus knows us. He knows our heart, he knows our desires, and he knows our passions. He knows the difference of whether we are dead or asleep. He calls us from death into life. He calls us from earthly desire to a kingdom purpose, and as we arise, day after day, we fight for the light that is within and without. We fight for life, because we know that when we rise, the first thing we get to see is the loving, gentle, forgiving, gracious, and good face of our sweet, sweet Jesus.
Gap J, we are certainly not dead. We may be tired, we may be exhausted, we may be grieving, and we may be ready to return. But we are not dead. We are only asleep. Let us wake up from this deep sleep with joy and excitement at the mere thought of seeing the face of Jesus each day in the routine encounters of His people here in Zambia. And may we, above all, choose to live and love and remember the radiance of his face that has led us around this beautiful, crazy, amazing world.
With all the love in my heart,
taylor camplin
