We’re in month four and this thing is starting to get real. One of our last days in Lodwar my team and I talked about the ways we are beginning to settle in to the long haul of the World Race. We talked about transitioning out of a “short-term” experience into the realization that we have committed to being missionaries for a year. And not just missionaries but radical disciples who have no home longer than three weeks. It’s a taxing experience.
I think most of the fifty of us Racers came out here to lay some things down. We were craving more of God and recognized that our lives were positioned for a change. We saw that to experience God more closely we would need to let go of parts of ourselves. And so this year is to be about sacrifice. I think I’m beginning to learn that there are two kinds of sacrifice: those I am ready and willing to slay at the altar, and those I am slightly more reluctant to release.
In the past three months I have seen great change in who I am. I have learned to live in close proximity with five other people and have begun to call them family. I have learned to rest in the moment and trust that God is working out the details. I have learned not to make any plans until I feel the Lord telling me which way to turn. And most, if not all, of these things I was ready for. I was tired of being an introverted recluse most of the time. I was tired of worrying about all the details of day-to-day life. I was tired of striving to force my own plans into completion. And so I have laid down those parts of myself and have seen God meet me in those places. He has filled me with His love, His peace, and His wisdom.
As we enter month four, in many ways, it feels as though the Race is beginning anew. When I sat in the LA airport on September 28 I was nervous. I was anxious about the coming year and exercised my first act of dependence on the Race by allowing some squadmates to calm my nerves with a game of cards. Now I sit in Soroti, Uganda with the five people of God who I am growing to call brother and sisters, and I’m nervous again. I’m anxious about the next eight months. I’m anxious because I’m feeling like I’ve given all I have to give. Not that I’m tired of serving or that I can’t play with anymore kids or speak anymore messages. I feel like I’ve given all I have to God. In fact, I have given God all the things I was ready to give and now He is asking for my life. He is asking me to give Him the things that I wasn’t already prepared to give.
For three months I’ve been seeking God’s face as intensely as I ever have before. I’ve prayed prayers I never thought I would utter, and I’ve believed they will come true. I’ve been to far-off lands and proclaimed the victory of the Lord. I’m thinking, “if only my college roommates could see me now.” And still God is asking for more. More of who I have been. More of who I believe myself to be. He wants more of my flesh, more of my mind, more of my self. And it’s terrifying.
I know God is asking me to die so He can raise me up again with the fullness of his life. But I don’t know what dying looks like. I don’t know how to do it. I’m sitting here asking, “what next?” and I have no answer. And so I will seek the Lord. I will ask where to press in. I will wait for him to answer and muster all my courage to act in obedience.
I long to walk in His will. And His will is forever a mystery to me.
More to come on this one.
