I want so badly to have a fun, catchy “About Me” section. I want to excite you with all of the places I’ve been (Switzerland, France, TEXAS!). I want to make you laugh with stories of my childhood (There was this one time I accidentally knocked my sister’s tooth out with a dumbbell). I want to share my favorite knock-knock jokes with you and ask you what your idea of a perfect date is (Mine is April 25th. Because it’s not too hot, not too cold, and all you need is a light jacket). (Please excuse the cheesy movie references. There are plenty more to come.) I want to tell you that my favorite subject in school was Algebra and that my heart sighs when I watch the sun rise. But none of that would tell you my story; they would only be facts.
This journey, this Race, is about awakening hearts. Awakening the hearts of racers, contacts, flight attendants, children, bus drivers, prostitutes, worshippers, supporters, prayer warriors. Awakening the hearts of those on the race, those we meet on the race, and those that support us back home.
And so, what better way to let you get to know me, than by telling you how God, Abba, Papa, Daddy, first awakened my heart.
I was nineteen when he knelt in front of me and asked me to be his all the days of my life. I was twenty-three when I finally gave him an answer.
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I’ve written letters to God as long as I can remember. They began as pink crayon scribbles in a spiral notebook asking why I had to go to bed early (signed with a “P.S. Please write back.”), turning into outpourings of a teenage girl’s heart (“Where are you? Don’t you care?” “I need you. Please. Help.”), and finally evolved into a mosh posh of poems, snippets, epic love letters, tear-stained cries for help, declarations of trust, and so much more. You see, I wanted communication. I wanted to hear and be heard. To be seen, noticed, and loved was the cry of my heart. It fueled every decision I ever made.
When I look back, I can’t remember a time in my life when I wasn’t dating or, at least, crushing on the “cute boy that sits two rows in front of me in 1st period English.” I was in relationships ranging from casual (just one date to our local Sonic for hotdogs) to very serious (two-years and talking about “forever”). But, nevertheless, always part of a couple. I fed off of the attention. I adored being cared for, thought of, pursued, noticed, loved. But, try as I might, nothing ever filled that empty cavern in my heart. Nothing and no one was good enough. I always felt that I could be cared for better, thought of more, pursued harder, noticed in more detail, and loved more deeply.
So, I continued my search to be seen, noticed, and loved; accepting any counterfeit version of those three that crossed my path.
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It was New Year’s Eve 2011 and I stood on the top of a parking garage with my friends, counting down the seconds left in the year. I felt emptier than I had ever felt in my entire life. I wanted the clock to stop, for time to stop moving because, if it did, then my life didn’t have the chance to get worse. I was out of words. My heart was crying, screaming for God to move, act, nod, blink, anything at all. I was begging him to see me, notice me, and love me.
And finally, he moved. He acted. He responded. He spoke.
One month and four days later, I stopped searching.
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When I was nineteen, I first heard his voice. He said, “I love you. I love you. I love you. Be mine.” It brought me to my knees. And then I chose another’s heart instead of his. Yet, he persisted. He knelt in front of me for years, telling me I was seen, I was noticed, and I was abundantly loved. For years I did not want see him, I did not want notice him, and I did not want to love him. But he waited for me nonetheless.
God waited.
Offering his shoulder to cry on over and over. Offering to hold me over and over. Offering to love me over and over.
Four years later, at twenty-three, I finally accepted his offer. In that moment, he did not scold me for running for so long. He welcomed me with arms wide open. He held me closer than I had ever been held. He sang over me. He lavished his love on me. He told me I was beautiful, that I was more than enough.
He told me I was seen, I was noticed, and I was loved.
I can’t wait to share more stories with you. Stories from my past, of my present, and for my future. I am amazed at the story that has been written already. I think it’s time we get ready… we’re in for one wild ride.
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