I’ve been pleading for the Lord to fill my lungs with the breath of his presence. I’ve been longing for life-altering encounters that would lead me towards a face-to-face friendship with God, like the one he shared with Moses. I’ve been pressing into quiet time by getting up for sunrise devotions and forcing myself to choose into the joy of ministry even when I’m covered in sweat and overcome by exhaustion.
As healthy as these practices are and as beneficial as these goals may be, I will get nowhere if I do not stand in honesty at the foot of the Cross and work through the barriers that keep me from knowing my Savior as I ought. The point of being a believer in Christ is not so I can merely think about living an incredible life for him. The point of being a believer in Christ is so I can grow and develop into the sort of human being he’s designed me to be.
I know it’s only been a week since I’ve been in Haiti, but so far I have not felt like God and I are face-to-face friends. I also felt like my dreads were a huge mistake. How these two relate and why they’ve been on my mind, I couldn’t quite figure out, but I did the only sensible thing I could think of and impulsively took them out.
As I undid the twists and knots, I realized how much hope I’d been falsely putting into my dreads. This sounds a little crazy, but bear with me. I decided to go around the world to do missions and live out of a backpack for a year—and I wanted to look the part. I had read a few blogs and stumbled across some awesome pictures that World Racers had posted. Everyone who was featured had sweet tattoos, trendy cultural outfits, and unique hair. They looked like the sort of people who were rad enough to go on the World Race and I wanted so badly to be like them. If only I looked the part of a World Racer, I’d become a good one, right?
It’s true, I’ve always wanted to have dreadlocks, and the World Race is a perfect place to try them out. So I threw some in and started the process. At first, I really did think I’d love my dreads. As I continued working on them, they started getting thicker and more and more people were complimenting them. I got to launch and heard from squadmates how much they loved my hair. Even the people I’d never met from other squads came up and said how cool I looked because of my dreads. I also got compliments on the headbands, clothes, and jewelry I wore, and let me tell you, I was feeling pretty good about the whole World Racer thing.
But now I’m here, and I’m not much different, and I’m not this awesome World Racer like I thought I’d be. How could I be? I’ve been fabricating an image that means nothing in the Kingdom. I will not be transformed on this Race if the only changes made are physical. Those changes are forced and they lack authenticity. I’ve learned that it’s not about the style of the hair that is upon my head, but instead about the Spirit who is moving and breathing inside of me. The only true transformation I could ever encounter is the transformation that spills out of the Cross. It is there that my value is found and is it there I will go to be settled when I find myself trying to live in that which I lack.
I will press on, with my curly red hair flowing free in the wind, and from here on out I will strive to focus on the beautiful simplicity of knowing my Jesus, for he is really all I need to be a “good” World Racer this year.
So live free; He’s the only thing any of us need to be the sort of human being he’s designed us to be.
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