At the end of Thailand, we had another round of team changes. Although we had already been in new teams for the month because of the men and women on our squad separating for ministry, that team change was not a permanent one. So right before Cambodia, we knew lasting changes that would determine who we were going to spend the rest of the Race with were coming.
My new team name is Summit. For me, this team is composed of the old, the familiar, and the new. Lauren Yeargan and Eric Cash are from my first team (Zealous Love), Derek West and Jesse Gill from my second team (Nautilus), and Mandi Gummels is the lovely addition to my last team (Summit). In many ways, going through the World Race resembles climbing a mountain for the first time – beginning, middle, and end.
There is a lot of preparation work before you even embark – gear to buy, funds to gather, and lots of training. You say to people, “I’m going on the World Race – 11 countries in 11 months.” Some people respond in full support, while others carry a tone of apprehension and warning. You know both groups mean well and want the best for you. But it takes a while for those words to settle in for you even though you’re the one who declares them. And it’s not until you’re alone in your tent on your first night in Africa surrounded by a billion stars from a foreign hemisphere and forty people you’ve only just met, that you begin to understand what they even mean. “I’m on the World Race – 11 countries in 11 months.” Once you start climbing, the beginning is both rough and exhilarating at the same time. You are full of energy as new air fills your lungs, and the surroundings pillage your senses. Your eyes feast on sights you’ve only seen in pictures, your ears take in languages you’ve only heard through movies, and your nose is smothered in the distinct smell of a city. There are moments when you want to cry, and times when you actually do – not because you think you can’t tackle the beginning of the ascent, but because you look up to see an overwhelming view of what’s ahead, and can’t imagine paying the cost of what it may take to finish. You ask yourself in those moments, “Is it worth it?” as you mentally surrender a year’s worth of potential relationships, accomplishments, and opportunities on a smoother ground that is much more familiar to walk on. You realize that the completion of this mission will rest in your level of commitment.
Up to this point, all the logistics and training have really only been theoretical, and now for the first time, you’re becoming familiar with your feet on the terrain, establishing rhythm and pace. You go up the switchbacks, and it frustrates you that the trail even has to be built this way. Why not just take the shortest, most direct distance? You look up and realize that as appealing as it may be, the faster trail is one that most likely results in death. The more attractive option in the moment will lead to destruction due to soil erosion and physical exhaustion, so you grit your teeth and make the slow climb. Switchbacks make the trek so much longer, but it also makes the trek to the top possible, as there is more possibility of living life using your own two feet at the end of it. Similarly, you realize how hard spiritual growth really is on the Race, and want to just be “there” – sanctified and done, with none of this “make every effort to enter through the narrow door” or “working out your salvation with fear and trembling” stuff. As much as you hate dealing with your own sin, you hate the fact that you have so much sin to deal with at all; that post-salvation, you can’t just take the faster road to heaven. Instead, the Lord chooses to give you the slow grind of daily life on the Race, because there is more life to be had through it and at the end of it, as seemingly inefficient as it may be. There are no shortcuts to real, everlasting life.
You keep climbing and before you know it, you’re in the middle. The climb in the middle is the most mentally challenging. My teammate Derek says, “The middle is the hardest because you can’t see the destination. When you start the climb and when you reach the end, you can look up and see the summit.” Look up during the middle, and all you will see is a wall of rock. It becomes too easy to lose sight of the mission. The middle months of the Race can be the most aimless and joyless as you forget why you’re there at all and question your motives for leaving and the value in finishing. You keep walking just for the sake of walking, which pretty much takes you out of experiencing everything around you, even though this experience is why you left in the first place. You left to see – to be in the nations and with the people. Now you let the sights and the faces walk past you because you’re tired and too busy looking at your own feet as you put one in front of the other. Thankfully, you eventually realize how ridiculous it is that you wanted the experience of climbing the mountain, and you’re no longer choosing to be present during the hearty middle of it where the majority of that experience resides. So you choose in, and keep going.
After a long time that is still much shorter than the period you imagine in your head, you see the summit again, which tells you that the end is near. Now you enter the leg of the climb that is the most physically exhausting, with the steepest paths. You do feel lighter as you look behind and see how far you’ve come. There’s no turning back, and this fact is encouraging for the first time as a sense of sadness and a feeling of relief fills you up. Exhaustion hits you as you look forward to the rest and the beauty of the finished work that awaits you when you bask in the glory of the view from the top. Just when you think you’ll never reach the summit, you’re there, and as challenging as the whole experience was, you’re glad you did it. At the end of the World Race, you’re glad you chose to open your eyes and your heart to learn the difficult lessons and to participate in the hardest work of life – to love and be loved. You have changed, as you’re no longer the same person who left for the trek eleven months ago. Perspective has forever shifted, and you’re one mountaintop closer to touching the heavens with your hands. Joy and thanksgiving flood into your heart in those moments, as you say, “I finished the World Race – 11 countries in 11 months.”
“And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” Philippians 1:6
