I have dreamed about going on the World Race for a long time. I have spent the last year preparing and imagined the month leading up to Launch to be very exciting. A time filled with hilariously trying to fit everything into my 70 liter backpack, visiting with dear friends, spending time with my family, and loving the anticipation of an upcoming year of adventure.
In some ways it has been these things, but in a lot of other ways it has not.
One earth-shattering word has brought my family to it’s knees and changed everything about this last month: cancer.
As I have prayed on if I should share and how I should share this, the Lord has made it clear that He wants me to invite other people into my story and into my pain.
My family found out 3 weeks ago that my Mom has brain cancer. Out of nowhere there was a brain tumor, and within five days we found out it was cancerous and she needed surgery. Days before Christmas my Mom had a very successful surgery which removed the tumor. Post-treatment will continue and it seems as if we are constantly waiting for more answers.
I found myself in these weeks leading up to Launch with a mournful heart for my mom, my family, and myself. I kept asking God, ‘Why right now? I am supposed to be leaving for the World Race in a few weeks for 11 months- what am I supposed to do?’
Throughout this whole process I have heard God clearly say, ‘Emily, trust me.’
Trust is an action I struggle with in life, but this is a different caliber of trust. This is the type of trust you hold onto when everything in your world is falling to pieces; where you come to the end of your rope and say, ‘Okay God, I’ll trust you because I am out of rope.’
Sometimes I wish we didn’t need to get to this broken place to learn trust.
But, do you want to know what I have learned through this new trust? I have learned that God is still good. I have learned that Jesus is STILL King. I have learned that HE has already had victory here because of the Gospel.
Do you want to know the most beautiful part that daily gives me comfort? That Jesus died so He could stand here with me and walk with me in this pain. Isn’t it incredible that we serve and know a God who loves us so much that He suffered undeserved pain to be with us in ours? That is grace and love friends.
My Mom having brain cancer doesn’t change the call that Lord placed on my life to go on the World Race. Does it make the call harder? Yes it does. I know my Mom’s journey will color my journey on the World Race, but God has still called me to faithfulness here. He has asked me to be brave and courageous.
So, I still say ‘yes’ to this call, God. Even though this isn’t the goodbye I was expecting with my family. Even though I am still navigating this brokenness daily and wondering how I will do this while going to 11 countries in 11 months. Even though I don’t know what will happen with my Mom.
People keep asking me, ‘So are you still going?’.
Don’t misunderstand that it won’t be hard to leave my family and my Mom, but hear me when I say this- that I don’t need to be sitting next to my Mom to support her through this journey.
The Lord has asked me to hold my Mom’s hand by holding the hands of the people I will serve throughout the world this year. I couldn’t think of a more beautiful or honoring way to support my Mom, by serving the God we both love.
I have taken a lot of comfort in the words of Scripture that promise that the Lord will turn our sorrow to joy, our mourning into dancing. One of my favorite authors, Henri Nouwen, expresses this desire well:
“For in our suffering, not apart from it, Jesus enters our sadness, takes us by the hand, pulls us gently up to stand, and invites us to dance. We find that way to pray, as the psalmist did, ‘You have turned my mourning into dancing’ (Psalm 30:11), because at the center of our grief we find the grace of God.”
I leave Friday morning, January 8th, to Atlanta for a few days of training before flying to Johannesburg, South Africa on Sunday. From South Africa my Squad will bus to Mozambique, our first country doing ministry.
Will you pray for me and with me as I begin this journey? Especially as it is beginning in a way I would have never expected. Will you pray for my Mom? That she will be healed and that, more than anything, she will daily feel the love and peace of Jesus. Will you pray that the Lord will turn my mourning into dancing?
As I set out on this journey I expect the Lord to move in incredible ways. Join me on the journey, as I trust the Lord to turn my mourning, and the many others that I meet along the road, to dancing.
