I have now reached a descending point in my journey, as this is month eight of nine, here in Quito, Ecuador. So far, I have travelled through India, Nepal, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Malawi, and now here at last, in South America. My feet have trodden many paths and broken roads, streets with vendors and beggars, monuments and natural wonders, and with every step of mine there was a parallel of another. Here on this journey, this race, I have been working, worshiping, loving, and sharing with thirty something racers of my age range, and three leaders who have done this before, them in their twenties. Now I face the descend, the finish line, and the looming future, for come early June, I will find myself in the skies of North America, in a plane headed for St. Louis, and all that was, memories, experiences, conversations, will come to pass in a mess of thoughts, flashbacks that will fade as time grows. I came in this race with such expectations, but expectations are not reality, and to know something to come is far from experiencing it. I have made friendships that I believe will last my lifetime, pressed memories in my brain that will be an everlasting reminder of joy, beauty, and the clarity of brokenness. For so long have I lived in fear of what is and is to come, and so long I take that fear and insulate my heart with it. For so long have I fallen to the wicked temptations of sin, the alluring natures of the flesh that spit upon the righteousness of God. For so long have I grown weary of such hardships, such pain that slowly cripples me as I bear it. More than often I found myself telling those I love that I feel no pain, but beneath those words I was truly saying that I can take it myself.
Now I realize the road I walk precariously upon, with dooming cliffs at every turn and crevice, with thick thistle, standing and running waters. The mist clouds my vision, as the rocks accept the water in slippery fashion, the grass beneath me a plague unto my feet, and never will I know where I will fall or drop until I stand at the edge, and I will fall, slip, and find myself broken on this path, but I will finish nevertheless. After it all, the journeys and sojourners, I will then find myself with myself once again, and that alone with my Lord. Soon I will find my sails pointed towards the splendid havens, and the zephyr of grace and forgiveness behind them, so then I look forward to the days my legs stand upon the shores, as the whites of the crashing waves are the very praises of the waters, my God how great you are. Alas, my time is now in the coffee shops, the streets, homes of strangers and friends, fields, tables and papers, books and flowing ink, and the brilliant saturation of hard and sweet voices. ‘Use well the days’ they say, and so I shall strive, though with each day I pray for simplicity in everyday life, as simplicity births perspective, and such births wisdom, and there derives application, which bears fruits of joy, and so I will strive for perfect simplicity, loyalty, and with that inevitably comes the pursuit of happiness, though it is pure and righteous, this I pray.
There is so much more to be lived, and as I now gaze upon the bustling street life buzzing around me, the half light fade on the stone laden streets, the weary stand of the white walls far and near, the music of a thousand stories in motion, symphony before my eyes, beauty before my eyes, and the draping green fields upon the wise mountains, resting as it coddles the everyday life. So it goes around the clock, from Kathmandu, to Johannesburg, stretching then to New York and my sweet humble abode there in wide lands of America. My heart and soul has been poured and filled by each place, the brokenness of each place transforming my mind, perspective, and the divine utterances of the Lord renewing all I am. No matter the place, I find his heart beneath the sun or under the moon, but always I will dwell in the half-light of His canyon. What joy I have in my life for Him, as He gives me life unlike any other, and in my messiest of lies and errors He untangles the ropes that choke me from his righteousness, and then I fall ever sweetly into his grace and love. My God, how great thou art.
-Garrett Stoecker, April 6
(Photo Credit: Bradley Newton)
