In December 2013 I heard about the race. I spent a significant amount of time praying about it and then in March 2014, I took a leap of faith and applied.
I spent 11 months preparing for the race and learning to depend on my community to help me fundraise. To help me move. To support me. It was the start of something counter cultural in my life. To learn to depend on others in the land of independence and self reliance.
Then I spent 11 months getting uncomfortable…on purpose.
If you don’t change anything, everything will stay the same. And I wanted the change.
I was dirty, uncomfortable and stretched to my limits. A place of brokenness. Complete dependance on God. And the people around me were in it with me. It was messy and beautiful.
I saw God move. I saw miracles with my own two eyes. I saw people healed and demons driven out. I saw what real faith walked out looks like. I saw breakthroughs. I grew in leadership.
There are so many experiences and it’s so hard to put it all into words. But through it all, I’ve learned some big things through real experiences.
God is sovereign. He is a truly good father. He is a source of strength and joy to those who have nothing. And I saw His bride, the church, alive and well around the world.
Then, there at the end, just as we were all getting good at the whole community thing, it was time to go back home. To go back to the same place looking somewhat the same on the outside but completely different on the inside. Again, feeling counter cultural.
Feeling like an alien sometimes. Because of what I tasted and saw, I am different. In the best way. But no one can tell from just looking at me when I walk by. It’s the strangest thing. But that’s okay, because I will carry it with me from here on. Not feeling like I need to prove anything, just with a deep security in who I am in Christ.
Recently, I went to project searchlight. A time after the race to meet back up with your squad and other squads that left the same time as us. Turns out I wasn’t the only one that felt the things I felt coming back home. PSL was soul care. It was community. It was being with people who deeply know me. The good, the bad, the ugly. We shared what we were going through and it brought us even closer.
(If you’re a racer, go to PSL- you won’t regret it!)
Now, as we are all spread out again, I know that there is a group of people out there who get it. Who are okay with being counter cultural, who actually kinda like it. We can be the ones that aren’t scared to speak up, to do the right thing, to share the gospel, to love radically. We can be the ones to go back home and invest in our churches and communities, to wake up sleeping churches. To be unashamed of the gospel, to be interruptible. And invite everyone into that with us!
At the end of the day, all I have left to do is praise God. He is truly a good father.
Thank you. Thank you to every single person that helped me go on the race. The people that helped me along the way, thank you. The ones that picked us up from bus stations, who helped translate, who fed us, who cared for us and took us in as family. So many of you have become lifelong friends! Financially, prayers, messages, storage, equipment, letters, all of it.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Signing out.
Sincerely, Lene.
