In my few spare moments since returning home from training camp, I have tried to process what the heck happened inside my soul over those 10 stretching days.
It’s been a process to say the least, and it is far from finished.
I’ve wanted so badly to feel at ease; to feel more whole than ever before. I wanted that stirring feeling that comes with not knowing what’s next to disappear. I just wanted to coast. I thought writing a sweet little blog to introduce my teammates would be a sufficient cure for the discomfort that comes with abandoning life as you know it for almost a year. If I can just convince the whole world that I’m jumping for joy on the inside, maybe my feet will find their way off the ground.
I want to be this perfect, fearless missionary who doesn’t get fazed by this crazy, uncomfortable, extreme step of faith that is the World Race. I want to appear as if I’m stronger and more experienced (ha!) than any other human walking through this journey for the first time. There’s even this part of me that thinks the mention of fear will make you think I’m unworthy of this mission, that maybe your support would be better suited for someone who is perfectly happy and awesome every waking moment of their life.
When I looked in the mirror today, I had to admit (again) that wanting to feel a certain way doesn’t change much of anything.
As much as I didn’t want to admit this to myself or any of you, I’ve been at battle since returning home. I’ve been at battle against the lie that being comfortable is inherently better. I’ve been fighting the shame that comes with not being as full after camp as I was walking in the door. My first instinct is to run from what I fear and I wanted so badly to run from the reality of my where my heart is right now. I’ve been fighting that with full force.
Training camp was so much deeper and more challenging than I let myself believe. I didn’t understand how deep every teaching, exercise, activity and prayer would sink within me. Now that I’ve been alone with myself, I can see the words of my teammates, peers, and leadership shining like a mirror to all the brokenness that still lives here.
It’s ironic, you know. The scariest part of this entire year is not being physically removed from my family or living out of a backpack or even talking to strangers about Jesus, it’s the sorting through all the junk inside my soul that I thought I dealt with already.
One of the biggest triggers for this realization is the fact that part of the World Race package is living in community every moment of every day. To some of you this may seem like no biggie. I once scoffed at the statements of how hard this was in nearly every blog I read from current racers. “What’s the big deal?” I thought.
Proverbs 27:17 says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.”
Well, friends, have you ever considered that those pieces of iron may find moments of discomfort and pain? I didn’t, either, until I experienced it first-hand.
Community is hard. It only took 10 short days to convince me of that. However, this doesn’t mean it won’t all be worth it. It doesn’t mean I’m willing to give up fighting to be present and love the people God has placed with me.
I am in no way saying anything about how I feel toward my teammates or squad. I am confident that God brought each of us together for a great purpose. They are wonderful people and I love them so much already. I’m just saying that being with people constantly, no matter how awesome they are, could be tough for anyone.
I sure am thankful that I have such a hope to hold on to. I know every challenge brings forth growth and a new dimension of intimacy with my Papa.
There’s always this part of me that wants to stubbornly yell out “why can’t You just make this easier for me?!” and it’s always matched with profound thankfulness that every tough circumstance brings me into further dependence on Him.
Here’s to a year of immense growth and a fullness that can only come from leaning on the Father.
With love,
McKenzie
