“Forward! Forward! Forward!”
“Harder! Harder!”
“Now… GET DOWN!”
The seven of us move low between the seats as the raft tilted downward into the current. Our bodies jostled about, desperately clinging to the rope at our sides, wondering if this time our boat would survive the rapids, or if we would find ourselves engulfed by the river’s fury. The raft tipped almost sideways, and I quickly yanked the paddle towards me to keep it away from the gnashing surf. Up and down, the small yellow boat coasted through the rapids with boldness, dipping and rising confidently with the crest of the waves. Our hearts pounding and adrenaline soaring, we eyed the placid river surface ahead of us, knowing that soon the turbulence would cease. But then, without warning, a huge wave suddenly rose above the others. The raft pressed in, optimistic, but the crest of the wave was too steep for the little boat to handle. I braced for impact as I saw the giant wall of water come in collision with our raft, tipping it upside down and throwing me out with it. Suddenly, I was submerged in darkness, tossed around like a rag doll, gulping water in hopes of air. I wrestled against the current, hopelessly seeking the surface and wondering if my shallow lungs would find breath in time. Thankfully, after a moment of intense panic, the surface appeared and I arose gasping for air. The river may have overtaken me this time, but I won this battle. And yet, despite my celebration of survival, the river was still moving. There were still more battles to come.
I was a bit nervous about rafting the Nile here in Uganda. It was one of those adventure activities that most of the squad had been talking up since Training Camp. I had only been rafting once on a tamer river, and it was not high on my bucket list to go home early with a broken neck. But regardless, I was committed to doing it, knowing that I’d regret it if I didn’t. After all, I was committed to that stupid slogan on all my fundraising shirts so… JUST SAY YES!
In the end, I had the time of my life. It was terrifying, exhausting and downright exhilarating. But in the midst of rafting wild rapids and getting tumble-washed by the Nile, I found the Lord saying something profound about the beauty of His care for my life. Something that He had been teaching me all this month in Uganda, and I didn’t really catch it until the very last moment.
In Uganda, the Lord taught me about Rest.
Most months on the Race, it’s easy to identify what the Lord is trying to teach me that month. This typically presents itself through an initial challenge – uncomfortable living conditions, difficult ministry, frustrating team disagreements, or even simply personal battles. These challenges typically are influenced by the environment, and while they may seem intimidating at the beginning of the month, I relish in the great victory that the Lord brings in the end. These challenges I wear with pride, knowing that the Lord brought me through something that at one time seemed impossible.
So I entered into Uganda expecting a challenge. After all, it was Month 10, so surely the Lord was about to hit me with something even tougher than I had yet to go through. But as my team arrived at our ministry site, and we saw the beautiful home we would be living in, met our wonderfully hospitable American hosts, and learned more about our ministry for the Month, I was left perplexed. After a couple months of challenging situations, our team was dumbfounded to have such an incredibly comfortable setting for our month in Uganda. American fellowship, nice beds, hot showers, comfort food, movie nights, volleyball games, simple relational ministry, and a relaxed living pace – there must be a catch, right?
I was grateful for all of these physical blessings, especially after a month when my team had been losing energy and motivation fast. The first couple of days at our ministry in Rukungiri, my team was overwhelmed with joy as we reveled in these blessings, grateful for the rich community that was developing between us and the young Americans we shared a home with. Joy reverberated through the walls as we spent our time sharing stories, making jokes, and laughing riotously. Friendships were built quickly, as Africans and Americans alike fellowshipped under one roof. The afternoons were spent playing volleyball in the yard and driving motorbikes to and from town, while the evenings frequently involved bonding over food, games, and the occasional movie marathon. The month was pure bliss. And for the first time in a very long time, I stopped counting the days until the end. Because for the first time in a very long time, there was nowhere else I would’ve rather been.
To be honest, I kind of forgot I was on the Race for a little while. I wasn’t stressed about the team, or about the ministry, or about the living situation. It was like I was just living life in Rukungiri, as if I had just made myself a new home in those Ugandan hills. Ministry was simple, as we traveled daily with our hosts to different sites to deliver food and meet the locals. The mission was simple – to build relationships and to love on people, whether through tangible gifts or friendly encounters. All that was required of me every day was the willingness to join into whatever the activity was for the day. And that, in and of itself, made ministry feel like a breeze.
“This all seems too simple,” I told the Lord one day. “What are you trying to teach me this month, Lord?” I sat on the front porch one morning, a week into our month, wondering when the Lord was going to upturn all of my comforts for the sake of growth. “I’m glad that you’ve given us an easier month Lord for the sake of rest, but I’m not done with the Race yet! I can rest when this is all over!” And as I said this, I felt that word strike me in a different way. Maybe the whole point of this month wasn’t to try and get something done, or to change something in me, or to even make God teach me something. Maybe this month really was about rest.
I have a tough time with resting. Maybe it’s because I’m an antsy person, or maybe it’s because I just value productivity. Honestly, it’s mostly just the way I was raised. My parents taught me how to be a good steward of my time and resources, and so I’ve always looked at whatever season I’m in as an opportunity to see something happen. Even off-days have great potential to be active and productive. I wouldn’t want to waste a perfectly good opportunity to grow by goofing off and not pressing in, so why would I expect the Lord to do the same with this Race?
What’s funniest about this month is that I found my biggest challenge was in trying to find a challenge. And the whole time, the Lord wasn’t even asking me to do this. All He was asking me to do this month was to rest, and for some reason, I couldn’t embrace that. Rest seemed too passive. Rest seemed like a cop-out. Rest seemed unnecessary, when I still had the energy to keep going.
Eventually, I let go of this battle and quit begging the Lord to teach me something. And once that happened, I started to find more beauty in releasing that control to Him than I had ever expected.
When I released myself into this month of rest, I found contentment like I had rarely had before. So much of the Race, I found myself wishing for better circumstances but hating myself for it, knowing that this life was too good for me to ever take it for granted. The month before, my mind was frequently wandering towards going home, and I wondered how much I would really miss the World Race once it was over. But because the Lord gave me this month for rest, I suddenly found myself delighting in the blessings of this World Race life. I delighted in the community, and the adventure, and the simple joys of playing with eager kids and building relationships with locals. I found myself moving at a slower pace, taking time to go on walks and talk casually with the Lord, and I became more aware of the little things He was doing to take care of me. Things I would never have noticed had the Lord kept me running hard like I thought I wanted.
Our team climbed back into the boat, panting heavily as our minds raced back through our miraculous escape from the river’s clutches. As our rapidly beating hearts slowly returning to a resting pace, we laid out on the raft as the river carried us to the next set of rapids. Four more to go, and suddenly my hunger for adventure erupted in me. I had just been man-handled by a Class 5 Rapids and survived – I must be invincible! But as a new section of rapids approached, I realized that my body was still worn-out and recovering. And though I had initially seen the rapids as the peak of physical thrills, I suddenly craved the stillness. It’s not that I didn’t want the thrills anymore. I was just craving rest.
I think a lot about how beautifully crafted this year has been. I’ve had some wonderful months of tremendous blessing and quiet simplicity sandwiched between months of challenging ministries and intense growth. Each month has had a specific purpose, and the sum of them together has allowed me to experience the kind of challenges that have stretched me this year, while also allowing me opportunities to breathe and appreciate life as it’s happening. But even in these moments of rest, I find myself getting restless. That desire to “get something done” or to “not waste time” continues to berate my mind, causing me to feel anxiety that I’m not doing “enough”.
How funny is that? The Lord gives us a season of rest, but we feel as if we don’t deserve it? We feel as if we must always be moving and doing things, even when the Lord says we don’t need to. How often do we find ourselves working on the Sabbath, even at home? How often do we negate opportunities the Lord gives us to rest because we think that the Lord wouldn’t allow us to be lazy? Why do we doubt that our loving God, who created us and knows us even better than we know ourselves, wants us to take care of our bodies and souls?
This month, God taught me a couple of beautiful things about embracing seasons of rest.
First – the Lord allows us to rest so that we can process the things He has taken us through, and so we can be prepared for what’s ahead. A season of rest is like a bridge that connects one season of challenges and growth to the next. They’re opportunities to take some perspective, and to allow the Lord to show us His hand.
Second – the Lord allows us rest out of respect for our bodies and souls. He knows what it’s like to work hard (heck, He made the whole world in six days…), and He understands the need to allow ourselves the opportunity to refresh ourselves. Resting is not a passive activity, but it is an active choice to respect the body given to us by God. It’s a way to glorify Him in choosing to rest ourselves as vessels of the Holy Spirit.
And third – the Lord allows us to reflect on the blessings God has given us, and bring Him glory for what He has done. And this one is important, because so often in keeping ourselves busy, we find ourselves missing Him in the process. I’m grateful for this month of rest in Uganda, because it helped me fully enjoy the little blessings He had given me, and give Him glory for it all.
And that was the beautiful thing about this month. Even though we had some incredible ministry opportunities, serving people in local villages, doing construction projects, and encouraging young adults, the Lord allowed me and my team to rest and enjoy the beautiful blessings of community, stability, and comfort. Gifts that came purely from His hand, and were not things we required to continue on, but things He lovingly gave to us anyway. Because His plan is perfect, and He knows what we need even before we ask for it.
It’s the end of the month now, and I’m preparing for my final month of the World Race in Kenya. Yes, it’s almost Month 11, and I am tired. Physically, spiritually, emotionally, I feel worn out and spent, and am looking forward to going home in one month’s time. But even though I still feel this fatigue, I also feel a whole new wave of energy coming over me. An energy that was once depleted by the rigors of the Race suddenly came back in a radical new way. An energy that is surely not my own. All because of this month.
And so I’m excited about this last month of the Race. I can’t wait to see what God is going to do. I’m filled with confidence that God has one more incredible month ahead of me, and even though it might be challenging, I’m grateful that He allowed me to rest first in preparation for it. I’m glad that even though I’ve struggled with keeping my focus on the Race, the Lord allowed me to appreciate this life and the beautiful blessings and charms of it all, before it’s all over in one month’s time. Because this life, whether I realize it now or not, is special. And I think the Lord thinks so too.
Rafting the Nile was a blast, by the way. Cruising through giant waves and crazy currents in Class 5 rapids, I was exhilarated by thrills outside of my comfort zone. But what was funniest about the experience was that the rapids were only a short portion of the day. At first, the whole experience seemed kind of tame considering that most of the day was spent on the flat, slower parts of the river. I often found myself wishing we could skip ahead to the next set of rapids. But by the end, as the rapids began to deplete my energy, I found myself loving the slower parts. Enjoying the beautiful blue sky, watching cranes fly overhead, dangling my feet in the water and letting myself be warmed by the afternoon sun, I cherished those moments of rest. The rapids were coming soon, but for the moment, this quiet stretch of the river would be just enough.
Because there was beauty in the in-between.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30
