The World Race: a trip I discovered and signed up for about
a year ago, with the mindset that I had something valuable to share. I was going to go to the nations and be a
vessel used to spread the gospel to the poor and forgotten people in the world. I was going to save lives, change
generations.
Yes, it has been such a joy to share the hope that is Jesus
with people of all different cultures, whether it has been through my words or
my actions. But when I signed up for
this adventure, little did I know that the Lord would use this time to change me, to redefine and firmly root my
relationship with him.
As you’ve seen throughout my blog posts so far, I’ve
realized over the past 6 months that I was desperately in need of some answers
to two important questions: who is Jesus, and who am I? And apparently, the Lord had to strip me of
my possessions and take me across the world for 11 months to help me discover
the truth.
I left it all—my salary, apartment, friends, and
boyfriend. I sold my car, flat screen TV,
jewelry, furniture, and beloved Keurig (RIP).
I abandoned the comfortable life that I had built for myself, because I
felt the strong calling on my heart that the Lord had something better waiting
for me—I just had to be obedient.
Leaving everything behind was terrifying. That first flight out of Pittsburgh was the
most difficult, heart-wrenching hour of my life. I didn’t know if I wanted to cry, scream, or
throw up; but deep down, I knew that it was the right decision.
And now here I sit in Africa, over half way through with the
race. I haven’t been alone in 6 months,
I’ve had team time every day, I’ve received feedback from my teammates
concerning my words and actions, and not only have I been encouraged to grow in
my Christ-like qualities, but also the ugliness and selfishness within me has
been called out. I didn’t realize prior
to the race how much junk I had from my past and present to deal with—I didn’t
realize how broken I really was.
But little by little, I am learning who Christ really is and
who he says I am. In Latin, my name
means “princess”—a fact that I’ve known for years and years. But just last week, while crammed into a taxi
driving down a dirt road in Swaziland, I realized what a princess is: a daughter of the king. Jesus is the King of kings, and I’m his
beloved little girl.
As I grow closer to the Lord and realize how beautiful an
intimate relationship with him can be, I am more able to pour out the love he
has for me onto the people I meet and the teammates I serve alongside. I have learned that I need to be completely dependent on him to do this thing called
life and do it well. I can’t do the
World Race on my own. I need him beside
me and within me to muster up the strength to use another squatty potty, to
receive constructive feedback, to live in a culture completely foreign to me
with each new month.
Enough talk about me; here’s where I need you to come in to
the picture. There are 5 months to go; 5
months of new food, new smells, new faces, new toilet and shower
situations. There are 5 more months for
me to love my teammates well and call them into greatness. There are 5 more nations that the Lord wants
me discover, in order that I may love those who he places in my path each day. And at this point, I am about $3,000 away
from being able to venture onward. If
you feel led, please click “Support Me” on the left hand side of this page to
donate online and allow me to stay on this glorious, terrifying, heart-wrenching adventure with the Lord.
