One week.
One week left of the World Race.
One week left to spend time with my girls.
One week left to soak in this life.
One week.
I remember September of 2017 saying yes to nine months. Then in January of 2018 I was asked to team lead and said yes to three more months. And right now, December 1st of 2018 I’m saying yes to one more week.
My thoughts are “Where in the world has the time gone?”
I think back to my training camp which feels like it happened years ago. I had no idea what in the world I was doing or what I had gotten myself into, but it was an experience I’ll never forget. It was ten days of the Lord redeeming everything that had happened in the last year. Him planting the seed of joy inside me and experiencing what it truly was for the first time in my life. I got to know the people I would do life with for nine months. Ten days that was just the beginning of becoming a true disciple.
And I remember Gap V’s training camp like I was just there yesterday. It was round two for me, but just the beginning for these new racers. I knew how they felt. The nervousness of being around almost 300 new people. Embarking on something you really don’t know about, but going for it anyways. How Georgia air is so stinkin hot and humid and sweat is a constant companion. All the things. But getting to meet them and say, “hey, I’ve been there too. You’re gonna be alright. God’s gonna rock your world. Just you wait and see” had been the utmost privilege and honor.
At other times I remember things from my race. They can range from late night hammock talks with my sweet friend Josie, to floating in the ocean in the Philippines. From Christmas day exchanging secret santa gifts, to being left at the mall in Johannesburg for three hours.
I also vividly remember the feel of how my feet felt everywhere I stepped. The wood in the rooftop tree house in the Dominican. The concrete of our compound in Haiti. The sandy roads of Botswana. The grass outside our beautiful cottage in South Africa. The rocky pavement in the Philippines our first month. The paved road on Walking Street. The tile of our super small house our last two months on the field.
I can remember what the Lord was walking me through each month and how I felt. The pain and uncomfort of it. The tears shed in my various bunk beds all around the world. But looking back I can see where my Father was with me every step of the way.
I can look back over my journey as a whole and see the fruit. I can see promises he made to me be fulfilled. I can see the pain I endured was worth it and always will be worth it. I can see the Lord start building a foundation in me. I can see his faithfulness followed me everywhere I went.
But thank goodness the journey is not over yet. Nowhere near it. He has more planned for me and plans that are better than I can even imagine or fathom. And I can have faith that if he has gotten me this far, he is only gonna take me farther.
Una semana mas.
Here’s to one more week being here.
And here’s to a lifetime of being a disciple.
