So. Why the World Race?
In 2008 I went to a Bible study at my friend Patrick's house. That night his friend Allison walked in the door. Allison had just flown in that very day from her route on the World Race.
I had never heard of such a thing before. And my heart certainly was not in a receptive state, that's for sure. Let me rephrase that. I thought Allison was crazy. Who in their right mind sells their car, quits their job, and leaves the country for a year?
I brushed it off, thinking "well, that's good for some people. But not for me."
Apparently I didn't brush it off. I tucked it away. Somewhere in the deepest parts of me. So deep that even when people in my community started pursuing the Race, I was still skeptical.
But last year God sent me to Africa. Ethiopia unlocked a secret door in my heart, which led to a room I never knew existed. A storehouse of dreams and visions and words of the Lord I had long ago dismissed. Brushed off as though they were irrelevant. Tucked away as if they were insignificant.
In July, my dear friend Daniel left for the Race. And as I prayed with him, over him, the night before he left I realized how much my heart wanted this. To see what God looked like in the world. To reach out to His children. My responsible nature was still in control, however. And so I brushed the idea off. Not out of disinterest this time.
In January, my best friend left for the Race. In October when we met in Newnan, Georgia for the first time in two years, we sat and talked about the risk she was about to take in the name of Jesus. I realized how much my heart wanted this, at that moment. To see what God looked like in the world. To fully trust Him. To love on His children. This time I took the idea carefully off my shoulders. Folded it neatly, smoothed away all the wrinkles, and tucked it safely in a drawer.
It was a good idea.
And I was not brave enough.
Every couple of days I would revisit that proverbial drawer. Pretending I needed something else… when all I really wanted was to take the idea out and look at it. Examine it. See if it seemed any more plausible. If it made any more sense. If it fit any less perfectly than it had before.
And just like He always does, God started doing some whispering. I laid in bed one morning watching Daniel's videos from Africa and begged God to take away this desire. I wanted to keep my passion and my heart, but put the desire on hold. He gently admonished me then, wondering why He would take something away that He had put there on purpose?
I realize, just for the record, this is all my own fault. I shouldn't have asked God to open your eyes and give you discernment and point out the risks He wants you to take in His name… and expected Him to keep me sitting in a cubicle and writing term papers in APA and nodding politely at my neighborhood barista.
So I filled out an application.
The same day I filled out my application, I got a call about a job opportunity here in Lexington. In my field of study. A shoe-in, because I am friends with management (aka my Dad used to run a unit. Connections, people. Connections.). This was the responsible decision. This was the path I should take.
Not where I was being led. Just what seemed to make sense.
Until my Dad walked into the house where I was babysitting my stepsisters (for free) and handed me forty dollars. Forty dollars. The exact amount of the application fee for the Race. In other words: the only obstacle keeping me from applying.
Long story short (who am I kidding?), after applying for the Race and applying for this job here in Lexington, my prayer was that God would gently shut a door. Even though He was whispering truth (Joshua 1:9) into my ears: "either way, love. Either way will get you exactly where I want you to be. Either way I will be with you."
I knew I was choosing between good and good.
I needed Him to shut a door.
–
I never got a call back after the job interview.
And Allison, who now works for AIM in Gainesville, planned our August route.
