So, I guess the million-dollar question is "Why have I decided to go on the World Race?"
Well, the answer, whatever it is worth, is that I have no idea. God keeps messing with me. I'm certain that I don't know what He is up to.
Here is a little background into how I got here:
At about nine years old, I started preaching to my stuffed animals. And by "preaching," I mean reading a chapter from the Bible as I stacked the fluffy critters (yes, there was enough to stack) onto the day bed in our guest room.
Throughout middle school and high school, I felt this agonizing inclination that there was some big truth out there that I wasn't quite aware of. Through an epic ordeal that involved nightfall in Mexico, violent fence-shaking, fortuitous wind blowing, angry shouts of prayer aimed strangely toward a full moon, and a wind-blown open Bible, I found my answer. The Scripture God used to speak to me that night was Colossians 3; "Whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of Jesus Christ, giving thanks to God the Father through Him." It hit me like a ton of bricks: life is ALL about Jesus. Nothing else matters.
From that moment on, my life was about the gospel. And I was good at it. Once a week, I woke up at 2 a.m. to drive around town and drop off devotionals I had written onto the doorstep's and windshield's of my friends. I was always the kid who got asked to pray in youth groups. I was celebrated by adults and peers alike. Pride started to swell in me like an unidentified cancer. And it is still something I struggle with.
Entering college, I thought I had it all figured out. Until God revealed that nasty pride issue. I dealt with a lot of loneliness and brokenness in college. But it was exactly what I needed. Jesus broke the bread before He miraculously sent it out to the multitudes on the mountain. And I'm pretty sure the fish had to die before they were shared. Yikes.
In the summer of 2007, I went to Uganda for two weeks. I was never enterested in missions, but felt like it was something I should do once. God wrecked me. Or, better said, He overtook me. I did a sermon at a crusade that I honestly don't even remember. Something like Post Traumatic Glee. Even while I gave it, I felt absent. On the ride back to our hotel, a native pastor told me I had done well. It was the worst I ever took a complement. I felt no pride, yet more joy than I had ever known, as I looked out the window and murmured under my breathe, "That was not even me."
Africa changed my life. Once I got back to the States, I continued to serve in youth ministry, where I was the year before and stayed the five years after. I always felt a whisper of something more, something global tugging at me like the opposite end of a magnet. But America was my mission field. And I loved it. I adored the teenagers I got to share life with. Being with them felt like home. I humbly watched and celebrated as they budded into incredible disciples. I worshipped and served alongside them with intense joy and fulfillment. I could have dwelt there forever, but God had other plans.
A couple years ago we went to some conference, I can't even remember which one, and I heard AIM speak briefly about the World Race. It has been on my heart ever since. Reading blogs, mapping out routes, planning to take a sabtical (if allowed) and just go for it someday. A couple of months ago, after a loosing battle in the arena of church politics, I found myself fired from the ministry I had poured my heart and soul into for five years.
So, there it is. A (relatively) brief history of my life.
Very soon after parting ways with my church, the world race came to the forefront of my heart, mind, and prayers. It was that thought I could not escaped. It followed me everywhere.
God is calling me to go on the World Race. I'm dealing with a lot of pain, insurmountable imperfections, and a myriad of uncertainty. I don't know if the race will fix any of that. Honestly, I don't care whether it does or not. Truthfully, all I want is to disappear. I want to look into the mirror everyday and say, "that's not even me." Just evaporate behind the face of Christ. Melt into the background of a global community that worships and serves the name of Jesus.
I know this is going to be a difficult journey. But when my King says "GO!," I have yet to figure out a way to tell Him no. I have heard His Whisper before, and it is the most beautiful sound ever. I know He is out in this world, whispering and shouting in ways that I cannot begin to fathom or imagine. I look forward to witnessing HIs Presence in the world as I dissolve into the background.
