It’s been an eventful week in Thailand. Squad leading has afforded me a few unique experiences. One of these was getting to jump in on some of the Parent Vision Trip festivities, although my own parents were in the States (just 2 more months, mom and dad!). We had an incredible group of sQuad parents doing ministry with us in the slums, the bars, and in community life. I loved sitting in on a few of the family sessions. Racers were invited to share for 5 minutes about what has happened in their hearts and mind on the Race. I was overwhelmed listening to my Q brothers and sisters share about how the Lord has used this community and lifestyle to impact each of them. As I sat in the back – probably looking like one of the proud parents – I began thinking about what I would say if I had an opportunity to share with them, or all of our parents really. Even though I didn’t jump out of my seat and take a chance then, I would like to address them here:
Dear Parent of a Racer,
What a year you have had! It was about a year ago that you were hearing about your child making a 12th trip to REI pre-training camp, about a year ago that you laughed as your 26 year old set up a tent and twinkle lights in your backyard “just to try it out.” It was about a year ago that you wondered where the money was coming from or how the student loans were going to be paid. It was about a year ago that you saw the Lord begin bringing forth new dreams in your child.
Maybe you felt joy and anticipation. Maybe you felt a little fear and uncertainty – I know that I did! Even through all the questions, you supported the calling that God placed on your child’s heart. You have trusted Him with one of your greatest treasures. You have honored us well and sacrificed much. You have encouraged us when we were exhausted, and have cried with us through a fuzzy phone screen when we were sick and wanting our mommas. You have patiently waited for communication through wifi-less months, and maybe even more patiently during the months that it was readily available! Thank you.
I want to share with you something that the Lord has taught me this year. As much as it was deeply personal to me as a 27 year-old single female, I believe that the Lord has further that He wants to reach with it. It’s about our identities. As I watched families reunited this week I observed how many were interacting. I saw variations of this conversation over and over again:
Mom 1: Hello there! I’m Kid 1’s mom!
Mom 2: Hi! I’m Kid 2’s mom! How was your trip in?
Mom 1: Great, although I’m feeling the jet-lag. I don’t know how they do this all year!
Mom 2: I know! They are amazing. What to you do in the States?
Mom 1: Oh, I’m a teacher. Your husband is a pastor right? I think I saw y’all on Facebook earlier this year.
Mom 2: Haha, yes. Facebook makes them all feel like celebrities, doesn’t it?
There is nothing intrinsically wrong about this conversation. In racer terms there are no “red flags”. It was pleasant and friendly. Still, something about it intrigued me. I am sure much of it has to do with being in a community where we know SO much about each other and our struggles, but I wondered about the deeper things. I wondered what brought each parent here, what the Lord was doing in their lives, and what their “C&C” would say this week. (A “C&C” is a weekly check-in on our spiritual and emotional state!)
As I thought more about this I realized that at the beginning of the race my answers to these same questions would have looked very different than they do now. A year ago they would have been very prefabricated. They would have fit the bio of myself that you would read if I were speaking at a convention. They would highlight the good and mask the struggle. At of the root of these answers was not a desire to be deceptive about who I was. It was that I was actually being deceived about who I was. The enemy had snuck in and gotten my role completely knotted up with my identity. I was defining myself by my role in full-time ministry, my role as a sister and daughter, and my role as a friend and mentor. Truthfully, I had been doing this for the majority of my life. These roles – which had become identifiers – led to a very guarded, performance based version of me. This is not what the Lord intended. This year has stripped those things away and left me feeling incredibly, well, naked.
Dear Parent, where are you finding your identity? If I ask who you are, what will you tell me? Will you tell me that you are so-and-so’s dad? Will you give me a vague description of your job title? Will you tell me about where you grew up? Maybe I will make my question to your more specific. I will ask you who the Lord says you are.
As I began to dig into this in the past 10 months I was amazed at the freedom that it brought. What I discovered was that when I stopped identifying myself as my role, failure was no longer a fear. The Lord calls me chosen. He calls me loved. He calls me an heir to all He has. He calls me His. There is no context for failure in these things. When I label myself in worldly descriptions, I immediately look to the pass and fail. Let’s be honest. There have been MANY moments where I have failed as a daughter. I could have served better and honored more. There are moments when I fail as a sQuad leader through selfish intentions or laziness. There will be moments when I fail as a wife or mentor, moments when I drop the ball. It’s part of being human. It’s an opportunity to call on Jesus, look to the identity that He writes all over us, and walk in repentance and truth.
Parent of a racer – You are chosen, called for a purpose, and equipped by the Creator of the universe. It is not too late. You are not a failure. Your legacy is real. We are running the same race and we can’t wait to get home and do it alongside of you.
Love,
Your Racer
