I walked into month 8 drained.
I walked out of Thailand spiritually drained from our ministry. It was incredible, but it was a lot of pouring out into such a heavy dark place.
I walked into El Salvador emotionally drained because of some things back home I was trying to work through while in another country.
And I walked right into a wall.
Not physically, though I’ve been known to do that as well.
Anyone who has been on the Race has heard of the infamous wall. It’s a place most racers get to during some point in the year when the mission life catches up to them and they burn out. When you have been going and going and investing and giving and not taking the time to process and rest with the Father.
I thought I was fine. I thought I had bypassed said wall. I heard it was something that came about halfway through the race when you realize you still have half a year to go. But I left Cambodia perfectly fine.
I thought maybe in Laos because it wasn’t a country that I hadn’t necessarily been looking forward to and it was a new year. But it was yet another great month.
By the time I hit Thailand I figured I had found some way to break “the wall” curse. Thailand was easily my favorite country and it made me excited about the last 4 months. I was ready.
Or so I thought.
Frankly I was oblivious anything was even happening.
I thought I had good reasons on why I was feeling unsettled when I got to El Salvador.
You’re jet lagged, you’ll jump back in.
You haven’t woken up early in a while that’s why you’re moody.
You just have a lot going on at home, you’ll refocus soon.
Homegirl was in straight denial.
Little by little I was taking a step back and out of where I was.
Our host has been wonderful and has made us feel so welcomed and loved this month, but ministry has been a lot of just participating in activities when we’re used to being put in charge of everything. We do hand out food and teach English in small groups twice a week, but when we’re not doing that we are being a part of P.E classes and soccer practices.
It’s been a blast, but without realizing it I started to use our lack of leadership roles as a reason to not do my best.
I started to not give my all during P.E classes.
I would interact but not fully engage with the kids.
I decided this was the month where I would let a language barrier keep me from communicating with those around me.
I let other teammates teach the English classes. I let my teammate lead our small group.
A short term team joined us for a week and I stepped out and let them do everything justifying that they were only doing ministry for 5 days and needed to make the most of their trip.
I sat through team devotions halfheartedly participating.
I started to count down how many days we had left in this country.
Shoot. Looking at it now, that is one ugly list.
I thought that since I was still participating in everything I was fine. But really my “best” effort was still more like sitting on the sidelines.
I had checked out.
And that’s the last thing I would ever want to admit.
But it happened. And all the while I thought I was ok. I had a reason for everything and everything had a reason. And if I needed to I could refer back to my top 3 excuses. As legitimate as they were, they were still something I needed to handle without letting it affect ministy here.
As time went on it wasn’t getting better, and I felt that. I would sit in my scheduled quiet time with the Lord confused on why I wasn’t invested. I would continue to ask over and over what was going on but I wasn’t really waiting for His answer.
Until this week.
One day as I was sitting on the bus heading back to our house, I plugged my headphones in and let myself slowly drift off. As I waited for sleep I started talking to Jesus, once again asking Him why I was feeling so weird.
The moment I let that question hang in the balance, finally allowing Him his space to talk, He answered.
Yeah Morgan, you’ve hit a wall.
My eyes flew open.
I’m sorry did you say?
NO. nonononono.
No.
Jesus, that’s not a thing. Not for me anyway. I’m fine. It’s just been another long day.
But He’s the Lord and deep down I knew He was right.
In that moment everything clicked. I sat there and let the last few weeks run through my thoughts and cringed at what I saw.
And I panicked.
SOS. Everybody scramble.
Thankfully just as I started the hyperventilation process the Lord stepped back in and calmed me down.
He took me back to one church service where I was tearfully singing the words, unsure of why the heck I was crying but also why I was feeling so empty during a time when I usually connected with Him the most.
He had been talking, and I had felt that, I was just suppressing it all and not wanting to listen.
This time though, as He let the song play over me again, I sat and really allowed the words to soak in.
A thousand times I’ve failed, still Your mercy remains. And should I stumble again, I’m caught in Your grace.”
Oh man.
They were words I needed to hear.
At this point I was slowly coming to terms with where I was.
Hi, my name is Morgan, I’m in the 8th month of the World Race, and I have hit a wall.
I was realizing that I had been failing miserably. That I had let my personal circumstances dictate how I was going to live for the month. That I had not given myself the space I had needed to sit with the Lord to be filled again. That I had instead tried to do all the things on my own and further spiraled into my burn out.
Oof.
If you needed me I was around somewhere wallowing in my own guilt and shame.
But the Lord didn’t let me wallow for long.
He didn’t just show me where I was, failing like the mere human that I am, and then just peace out.
No, He continued speaking.
Ok so yeah you’ve hit a wall. But guess what? It happens. You think you’re the first person to go through this? It’s ok. That is why I have grace. That’s why there is mercy. Rest in it and let me help you through this.
Oh the beautiful and loving Father I don’t deserve.
I stumble a lot. I’m not perfect. If my blogs are any indication, He is forever teaching me something that I learn one month and then have to relearn the next.
But that is the beauty of His grace.
Anytime I fall, He is there to pick me up again. Anytime I pull away into myself He is patiently waiting for me to return to Him.
He’s like a Golden Retriever.
I laughed when my squad leader used that analogy a couple months ago, but it’s true.
Like a Golden Retriever He’s sitting at the door waiting for you to come home.
Whatever has been keeping you away.
Whether it’s been a day, a week, a year, He is sitting there. He’s waiting.
And then He hears you. And oh man does He get excited.
And then you come through that door and He is jumping up and down just freaking out, tail wagging, running around, barking up a storm, LIKE OH MY GOSH YOU’RE HOME.
Let’s hang out.
That right there is the love of the Father.
He allowed His only son to die for us, so you and I could have that close relationship with Him.
It’s all He wants.
Personally I’ll never fully be able to wrap my brain around why He wants me. But He does.
And through everything He remains patient with me, even as I fall time and time again. He just picks me up and brushes me off and let’s me try again.
Aren’t you thankful for a Savior who does that?
I know I am.
That day on the bus I surrendered. I once again gave Him control as I handed over my spiritually and emotionally empty tanks and asked Him to fill me again.
And the next morning I woke up in such peace and joy, ready to tackle the life He had called me into.
It was where He had wanted me to be all along. And it was beautiful.
After weeks of running around on my own, I came home.
So what’s been keeping you away?
Whatever it is, it’ll never be too much for Him.
In fact He wants it all, so go ahead and give it to Him.
Until then, He’ll be sitting and waiting at the door like He was for me.
Patiently waiting for you to walk in.
“And oh the glory of the Savior’s love. Surrounding our surrender. To know, forever we are welcomed home.”
