Paul claimed to be the worst of sinners, and that’s why he loved bragging about what God did through him, because it was only through God.
Similarly, I was the world’s worst World Racer. That’s why I love my story. It is absolutely, undeniably, solely by God’s grace that I am still on the Race today.
To future Racers who don’t think they’re good enough to go on the Race, and to current Racers who feel like they’re failing at the Race: it’s not just you.
If there’s a problem that a Racer can have, I had it.
You may have read blogs about people who hated fundraising, or hated their teams, or hated a specific teammate, or hated feedback, or hated the World Race in general. I was every one of the above.
First of all, I was sure I wasn’t good enough.
God called me to the World Race in January 2013, when I was in Costa Rica on my first mission trip and ran into a team from M Squad. They told me all about how they were going to eleven countries in eleven months, and I thought that was awesome , but knew I could never do something like that.
When I got home and God asked me to do exactly that, I laughed.
But he wouldn’t leave me alone about it, so finally in August, I applied.
I was terrified when I got to the page filled with possible struggles you might have dealt with throughout your life(eating disorders, abuse of various kinds, depression, etc) and boxes to check beside each one. With every “yes” I clicked, I became more convinced that I would never be accepted.
Somehow I got an interview. I told this stranger on the phone my entire life story and why I felt God was calling me to do this crazy trip. I hung up, positive that I had sounded like a total basket case and would never get accepted.
Somehow, a few weeks later, I got a call. The voice on the other end said “You’re going on the World Race!!!”
All I could think to say was, “Are you sure?” I asked at least three times if this was really happening.
Fast forward through nine months in which I finished college, moved home, got a job making burritos at Moe’s, spent too much time stalking blogs(you know you did it too) and not enough time fundraising, and fell in love with F Squad through Facebook.
May 2, 2014 was what I thought was my last day of therapy. I’d tied a bow around each of my issues and I was fully healed and ready to go out and share all that hope with the world.
But then…on May 6th, one of my squadmates died.
Then on May 11th, one of my friends from college died.
And on May 17th, I left for training camp.
Life was changing way too fast.
Training camp is where everyone who hasn’t realized it yet realizes what they’ve gotten themselves into. But in my case, I was excited by what I found. It sounded even better than what I thought I’d signed up for.
I don’t think anyone who hates the World Race goes in expecting to hate it. I expected to love everything about it. Literally everything. I’d blog stalked so much and read so many things that Racers said were hard, and I made a list of why those things would be easy for me.
And in my defense, the things on that list were, and are, easy. But there’s so much more to the World Race than packing light, never being alone, and going a week at a time without a shower.
It’s hard to be on a team you don’t like. It’s hard to receive feedback that hits a deep wound you thought had healed years ago. It’s hard to give feedback when you feel like your words have no worth. It’s hard to make friends when you’re only using them to avoid the problems on your team. It’s hard to admit you’re wrong and ask forgiveness from someone who won’t admit to the places where they were also wrong. It’s hard to be away from home when someone you love attempts suicide. It’s hard to be misunderstood by the same person over and over again.
The World Race is hard, y’all. No matter which aspects of it sound easy to you, it will somehow be one of the hardest years of your life.
You don’t get to choose whether it’s hard. You just get to choose whether it’s the best year of your life or the worst.
And that’s what I didn’t understand. All I saw was how hard my Race was, and how much my squadmates seemed to be loving theirs. The only way I knew to deal with it was to pretend everything was fine. I built up a wall around my heart and lashed out at anyone who tried to peek over it.
Occasionally, I’d have a minor breakthrough and I’d like my team and the Race in general and be okay for a week or so. But it never lasted long. I’d go back to hiding and hurting everyone around me again.
Until halfway through month 4, when my squad leader came to me and explained that my attitude and behavior were a detriment to my team and the squad, and if I couldn’t recognize this and change my heart, I could be removed from the field.
Yes. If almost getting kicked off the World Race doesn’t qualify me as the world’s worst World Racer, what does?
I went back to my room that morning and cried for two hours. Not the “everybody hates me and nothing is fair” tears that I cried at least once a week after feedback; these were like David’s post-Bathsheba tears. I’d never in my life been that ashamed of anything I’d done.
When I was applying, I didn’t think I was good enough to go on the Race at all.
Now I didn’t believe I was good enough to stay.
But I wanted to stay. I wanted to change. I had no idea how to, but I was going to.
Month 4 ended and I got a whole new team. I loved them, but I still hated feedback. Especially when it came from the one teammate that I didn’t like.
Month 5 ends. I’m forced to talk to that teammate and figure out how we can love each other(because she was no more fond of me than I was of her). Being sent home almost sounded appealing if it meant I wouldn’t have to live for 3 more months with Jess. I was fully convinced that I’d never make it. Until I came across this, and knew I would do anything to keep that from being my story.
Month 6 in Malaysia was good to me. I suddenly figured out what feedback was. Me and Jess learned to tolerate each other. I slowly started to be myself. I hadn’t let a single person on the squad see that yet; I’d been trying too hard to be like everyone else.
Then everything changed in Thailand.
Me and Jess became best friends.
I learned, in the hardest way possible, that God didn’t call me on the Race because all my wounds were healed; he called me because everyone else is broken too, and he puts us with people who he’ll use to put each other back together.
I learned that feedback is literally loving the junk out of people.
I never, EVER wanted these eleven months to end.
Finally one Sunday, my team leader comes up to me with our squad leader on the phone.
“Hey! So, we’re releasing you from your contract.”
Much like when I got my acceptance call, I was shocked, then whispered “WHAT?”
“You get to finish the World Race!”
I couldn’t say anything in reply because I was crying too hard to make any other sounds.
That call came three months ago. Now I’m 38 days away from coming home.
I don’t want to anymore.
Dear scared future Racers and struggling current Racers,
I don’t want you to go through what I did. I hope you love the World Race long before month 6.
I hope you know, no matter how hard it is to believe sometimes, that feedback is like medicine: even if it tastes awful and it’s near impossible to swallow, it’s there to make you better.
I hope you trust that God put each person on your team for a reason, and you can learn to love literally anyone. I hope you don’t just survive that teammate you feel like killing; I hope you come to thrive with them. It’s the best and funniest thing ever. Let God make it happen.
I hope you understand that you’re worthy to be on the Race because God CHOSE you to be on the Race. He doesn’t see you as a mess; he sees his precious child that he can use exactly how they are.
You don’t have it all together now, and you won’t have it all together when you finish the Race. I’d know; I’m in month 10 and I guarantee you I won’t be perfect in five weeks.
But if you stick it out long enough, you’ll find that God has a perfect purpose for every broken piece of your life.
If you’re one of the world’s worst World Racers, you’re in good company. You don’t have to stay that way. God’s telling a good story through you. Don’t buy that plane ticket home when your squad has a layover in the States.
I’m so glad I didn’t.
