I came home from the World Race in December.
I moved back in with my parents, had a couple of weeks off, and then started working on the farm again – I was exactly where I had been before I left for the race. A few weeks later, I started working a second job in an accountant’s office.
I’ll be honest. It’s been hard finding the fulfillment here in America that I felt on the race.
Feeding pigs doesn’t seem to make me feel as alive as the door to door visits in Rwanda, when people begged to have Jesus make his home in their hearts.
It’s hard to consider my time spent cleaning out the shop as valuable as our efforts to build a Sunday School room in Nicaragua.
My life doesn’t seem to have as much meaning driving to work every day as it did when we drove to villages every night to preach the gospel in India.
It didn’t take me long for me to question if the past year even happened. Did I really just live in 11 different countries? Did I really meet thousands of people? Were the things I saw real? And am I really any different now, because of what I’ve seen?
If the past year happened, how does my life reflect that now? Shouldn’t I have started a ministry, be spending my evenings evangelizing, and mornings in prayer? Shouldn’t I be spending time in a small group, in the Word, in a homeless shelter? Shouldn’t the evidence of being filled by Him be so evident in my out pour to others?
These are the thoughts I have needed to silence. It’s the voice of the enemy that asks, “If the past year happened…prove it.” He tempted Jesus in the same way in the wilderness. “If you’re the Son of God, feed yourself, jump down from here…If you’re the Son of God, PROVE IT.”
I entertained that question with the thoughts of what I could be, should be, would be doing if the past year happened. I entertained these thoughts because I’ve let my significance be determined by what I do.
Jesus knew His identity. He didn’t need to prove anything. He was who His father told him he was. And that was enough.
I want that. And it starts by believing the right things…
The past year on the race did happen. And it is impossible to not be moved when you’ve heard the voice of God call you somewhere, and you say “yes.” It’s as simple as that. No need to prove it.
So that brings me back to this season at home, and seeing it from a different angle.
I’m realizing that it’s been so necessary for me to spend these months back in Ohio. And the fact alone that it is necessary is what makes it good.
This season, and being able to work, is funding the next step he’s asked me to take. This season is solidifying the things He taught and introduced me to on the race, and asking me to be self-disciplined in continuing them. And this season is providing fruits unique to itself.
Sometimes I’ve seen the basket of freshly picked apples, sitting on the counter where God’s placed them for me, and I marvel at them and enjoy their sweetness.
But unfortunately, most of the time I’ve rushed by the delicious fruit, leaving it to rot, unaware of the gifts He’s placed before me. Right here. Right now.
This season home from the race has strengthened old friendships, and allowed me to embrace new ones. It’s let me rest. And let me work. It’s given me strength. And let me be weak. It’s shown me the support of the church, and body of Christ both near and far.
This season has shown me grace.
All in all, these past few months the Father has been reinforcing the vision He’s laid on my heart. And isn’t that something we all want? To know and be confident of where He is taking us?
He is guiding us on a journey beyond anything we could ever dream up. But that’s just it. “Life’s about the journey, not the destination.” Our focus shouldn’t be on where we’re headed (but it sure is easy to get wrapped up in that, isn’t it?). Instead, He has gifted us with unique opportunities to learn and grow during these present moments.
So don’t walk by the basket of fruit he’s laid on the table for you today. Take a look, give thanks, and take a bite.
