Yesterday was rough. One of our team members, Ryan Michael, left the World Race and felt that it was time for him to continue his Race at home in America. He had been sick for a week and felt it was yet another sign it was time for him to go home. At first to fight off the sickness and return to us, but as his body began to regain strength and come back to normal, his spirit was telling him even if his health returned to 110% it was time to go. As he sat in front of us sharing his heart and decision, I was so angry.
I was angry because for a moment I felt like I was thrown into someone’s game of throwing a bunch of strangers together and telling them to open up to each other is good and right and healing, and then the moment they take the bait, the moment they let their walls down, we start ripping them apart. So far 3 people have already left our squad for different reasons and we are already a ridiculously small squad (population now 36 I believe…and most squads are between 50 and 70 ppl), and now Ryan was number 4 . I wondered how many more were going to go home and how many would be together at the end of month 11. We have been through team changes, said goodbye to the first squad leaders and then the constant moving from country to country. I have met SO MANY people in 5 months it is emotionally overwhelming and sometimes I feel I can’t breathe. It’s been this constant in and out, coming and going in my life and l am so tired of opening up my heart. So as Ryan spoke, all I could do is stare at a speck of dirt on the floor, blurring everything out and wondering how the dirt got there.
I have grown so close with 2 people in particular on the Race and I thank God so much for them, but as each day passes by I love them more and more and if we are only half way through, then I have 6 months to get even closer…only to say goodbye when this Race is over. We make promises like: “we’ll keep in touch” and “I’ll come visit you” but I have heard these words many times before. It’s not that people intentionally lie, it’s just life happens. We grow up and with that come bills, deadlines, family, jobs and the moments we had in the past become pleasant thoughts, distant memories, and entries on a diary’s page.
I have already been through one team change and that was hard. Now that we are left with only one guy, my mind races to the possibility of it changing again after only 2 months. I readjusted to this new group of people and have grown to care so deeply about them. The girls on this team are solid. I feel I can share anything and everything with them. It’s good and it’s healthy, but now that Ryan is gone I feel like what we have now is at risk. I fear they will split us up and then we will have to find this all over again. It doesn’t seem right. It seems like messing with people’s hearts and I hate not having the control. So last night I gave up and just went to bed. I was exhausted and frustrated and tired of talking and watching people cry.
7:15. My alarm rings.
I peel open my eyes and the sun is shining through my blinds and the Father nudges me to get up, saying: “Hey kiddo. It’s morning, my mercies are new and another day has come. Go make French toast for your team and I’ll take it from there.” So I listened to my Father and got up. I made French toast and drank tea…and worshipped. Worship changes everything.
Then the song that inspired my new team’s name came on and reminded me of why we are called Battle Cry:
I see a generation rising up
No longer accepting lies
Running to the battlefield
And losing their lives
I see a generation rising up
No longer accepting lies
As a band of worshipers run to the battlefield
They're finding their lives
I hear a voice…
Heaven's battle cry
Rise!
See the sun light, what was hidden
Heaven's heart beat
See it moving
What was a whisper is now
A voice calling out
We are in a battle, and we as a team have declared that we would run into that battle screaming and shouting nothing but the truth! We have laid down our quiet, mediocre lives; cast down the attitude of flight and taken up a life of fight! We hear the Father’s voice calling out loud and clear: RISE!
(Katie, Emily, Dani, Me, Ashley, Mark, and Ryan Michael)
So I take a deep breath and choose (because if you can’t choose you’re not free) to wipe the tears and mud from my eyes; put on the armor of God [Ephesians 6:10-18]; give Him my heart to guard and protect [Proverbs 4:23]; pick up my weapon, sharper than a double-edged sword [Hebrews 4:12]; find my strength in the joy of the Lord [Nehemiah 8:10]; remember my capabilities in Christ [Philippians 4:13]and let the Battle Cry be heard in all the land[Isaiah 50:22]!
I can’t promise I will sound my battle cry with elegance and ease; I can’t promise I won’t forget the words every now and then; and I can’t promise to always be right on time. But I can promise that someway, somehow I will sound it because I am so madly in love with the One who gave me the voice to sing it out in the first place. And since we do everything for the sake of Christ, I will give my King what He asks for.
So…
No matter how many times a human being betrays you or breaks your heart;
No matter how many times you feel like someone’s pawn in a game of chess;
No matter how many times you get knocked down, kicked down and drug through the mud;
No matter how many times you have to let go of things you so dearly want to hold on to…
May you put your heart in the hands of God, instead of the hands of man.
May you stop seeing yourself as a pawn being manipulated and moved about, but as a Son or Daughter of the King fighting for the sake of His Kingdom in a grand story that is all about Him.
May you get back up, wipe the mud and tears from your eyes and sound your Battle Cry!
May you always, always, RISE.
With Love,
-Aisha
“If I am ever to be raised up, it must be by the hand of God.” –Oswald Chambers
Check out out the song that inspired our name below:
