There once was this thought, a gnawing in my head. If I could just get out and see the world, I’ll understand more of who God is. I have, and haven’t been, disappointed. You see, it turned out that God was so much bigger than my preconceived notions of him, and that his love, at its very essence, was self-sacrificial. I learned that if I want to be more like him that I, too, would have to learn that the best things in life are not success, romantic love, getting exactly what I want, becoming more enlightened or any of that. I found that the more I fall in love with my savior the more I am excruciatingly aware of my shortcomings and the need for his grace and guidance.
Could I have learned this all in America? Probably, honestly. With a great amount of accountability and motivation. I think one of the really cool parts of the Race, though, is that you’re faced with your flesh so often. You are in circumstances that make you uncomfortable and those have a tendency to expose sinful nature. You have to ask yourself questions like, “Is Jesus all sufficient for me in this?” You get frustrated with yourself frequently for the things that matter so much to you because often they will expose exactly where your heart is and where it doesn’t reflect Jesus. And when this happens, sometimes it really sucks, but it’s necessary for growth and change.
I’ve started to look at the Race as a kind of catalyst for growth. You are placed in ample uncomfortable circumstances which shed light on what kind of person you are when life isn’t going according to your plan. It is a foretaste of what kind of person you’ll be when disaster or hardship strikes your future spouse or family or plans. You’ll have two choices: 1.) praise God and trust him, even though you don’t understand. Or 2.) Allow your already self-centered heart to get eaten up with bitterness and misery.
I’m not saying that there are occurrences that will make you bitter while on the Race. There are some hilarious moments (in hindsight, definitely) that produce character and trust in God in a way that never would have happened at home.
The Race alters the way you look at people and the way you treat them. It gives you an amazing picture of the global hospitality of the church that puts your pre-race, half-hearted hospitality to shame. It humbles you that (typically) the poorer the people, the more they give. And you are challenged. You are honored. You are often moved to tears. It makes you incredibly thankful for a family who taught you that hospitality is both to give AND to receive, because if you don’t receive, you deny someone else the opportunity to show hospitality to you.
You learn, over time, that sometimes you will have to rely on your teammates, and it’s important to allow them into the vulnerable places in your heart so that they can combat your self-centeredness, attacks from the enemy, heartache, impatience, devastation, and sin WITH YOU. Two prayers (or seven) are better than one.
On the Race, you learn about the kind of woman you want to be. You learn that there are godly women who love The Lord with their entire being who you NEED to be around to be reminded of God’s mercy and grace and goodness in your life. You learn that Jesus’ love is radically accepting of who you are, but that it propels you towards a recognition of your sin and turning away from it. You learn that beauty goes far beyond exterior and that it lies in an inexplicable peace that comes only from knowing and loving your Savior.
You learn that the kind of man you’d like to marry is a man who takes the gospel seriously, who can both give and accept constructive criticism with humility and grace. You learn that these men are not extinct entirely. You learn that there are men who serve with compassion, grieve their sins deeply, and are confident not in themselves, but in who God is creating them to be. You learn that there are men who are not afraid to call you out on your crap because they know you have the potential to be more like Jesus, but not if you keep making excuses for your sin. You learn that there are thoughtful men who guard their words and actions around you because they know that you are worth protecting.
You learn to be thankful for every meal, whether or not it contains rice for the thousandth time. Rice is good. God is good. Your body is thankful, even if you’d much rather be eating French fries or a salad.
You learn to love people deeply and quickly. If you can feel like family after a month with someone and grieve to leave them, it is a gift. It hurts, yeah, but it is an incredible gift. I’m looking at you, Northeast India.
Not least of all, you learn that God is God. There is no controlling or manipulating him. There is no making empty promises to him. There is no loving him with only a portion of yourself. He demands (and will infiltrate) all. It will be painful. It will be incredible. It will be difficult. It will be beautiful. And Jesus will be all the more irresistible to you on the other side of it.
Grace and peace,
Sarah
