The Kurdistan trip yielded fruit and vision for my life too.
First, my spirit soared out there. In the slow attrition of my five-month re-entry season following the Race, I had forgotten some wonderful things. That I love honoring withered old men by greeting them in their own language; that I love receiving the joyful hospitality of impoverished villagers, which makes so little sense to westerners; that I love transcending language barriers with kids via smiles, pokes, funny sounds and tickle fights; that I love the freedom of ministry that comes with the exit from my own culture.
Do you know that I actually prefer squatty potties to the sit-down kind? I had forgotten that my home really is out there among the nations now, and that I’m first a citizen of the global Kingdom, not the American empire. And for this singular joy, I’m grateful for that pressure-cooker, the World Race. I had forgotten how powerful and unique it was.
Second, third, and fourth . . . are dreams and options. Lots of them. Springing forth out of the air. Reawakened passion for the nations, for the scattered people of this earth. Confirmation on an inexplicable call to Kazakhstan(!), echoing in the back of my mind, marinating toward the eventual season of its realization. Persistent love for discipleship, a hope to again pour into college students and younger men. Rising interest in church-planting — who knows where?
Soon I will transition from pure training into work-study, producing this Kurdistan piece with Britt for World Orphans. After that, I may help AIM put together a documentary of grief and hope in Haiti. Or, I’ll film for a short-term mission in Swaziland. Or, I’ll be discipling college students here in Colorado Springs. Or maybe I’ll do all of those things. Or maybe, somehow, none of them. Maybe God’s got something bigger.
What’s for sure, though, is He’s got something big. Let me know if you’ve got a piece of it.