I’m half-way into month 11…you read that correctly…MONTH ELEVEN. There are less than 3 weeks until I will step foot onto American soil. I’ve been here in Malaysia for a little over 3 weeks and it’s been the most difficult 3 weeks of my Race so far. I want to tell you why, but more importantly I want to tell you why it’s ok…
Our squad arrived in Kuala Lumpur on October 25th and went our separate ways, immediately heading into ministry for the month and foregoing any mini debrief or rest. We all faced our longest month of the year with 5-6 weeks ahead. Since my team obviously rocked on the Unsung Heroes Campaign in June in South Africa we were assigned to that duty once again. Therefore, we started our long month in KL. All seven members of my team battled fatigue from 10 months of World Race living. Loving the people around you isn’t always easy when you’re tired and I knew pretty early on that this month would be one that I couldn’t finish without the Lord.
Despite fatigue, despite cramped quarters, despite a bed bug infestation, we were thankful, and we chose to choose the “now” of our first week in KL. Encouragement was vital to us all and we pulled ranks as we started the 2nd adventure of our month and moved out to the Malaysian jungle. It was there where we learned we needed endurance, positivity, and gallons of bug repellant.
After a week of outdoor construction work aiding a local ministry, we were excited to venture out to a nearby town for our first Indian engagement party! We spent our week ruining our clothes with mud, sweat and paint, of course we wanted to clean ourselves up and play dress-up with beautiful saris! The night before the party we were riding to the house we would stay at and Julie got a phone call. It was too late to be a general ‘how-you-doin’ call, and for some reason I knew it was for me. I think in a matter of 3 seconds the Holy Spirit downloaded on my heart in an attempt to prepare me for what was to come. Our squad leader told me that our squad coordinator had contacted him and I needed to call my dad. I hadn’t seen internet for a week by now and had no basis for what was going on back home. It took a minute and multiple attempts at calming my heart rate to dial that phone. Dad told me that my Papa had passed away the night before and I found myself falling apart in the backseat of a small car.
It’s crazy how your body, mind and heart can crush in a matter of seconds. I wanted to be no where in the world except with my family, but instead I was in a strange town, at a stranger’s house, an ocean away. That night was difficult; the woman we stayed with didn’t speak fluent English, but her hugs translated just fine.
My team and I boarded a bus for KL the next evening after the engagement party to get some rest at our hostel before returning to the jungle the next day. I was so thankful to Skype with family that evening. I laid down, relieved to not set an alarm and let my body sleep as late as it needed. However, I woke up at about 6:45am.
Go back to sleep, Abby. You are exhausted.
I laid in bed and used the silence of the room to stop and listen for God’s voice. I needed to talk to Him more than anything else in the world, and I did. I fell back asleep 30 min later, only to be awoken by a text from my Mom about an hour later. My ‘Uncle’ Jason back home had passed away. My heart broke. And once again, for the millionth time that weekend, I let tears cover my face.
At the exact time that my Papa passed I was standing on a LRT platform in KL. I remember vividly the digital clock flash the time just before I stepped onto the train. At the exact time that Jason passed I was awoken early in the morning in a still and peaceful hostel room. I believe there’s a reason for me noticing those seemingly insignificant points in my days. They’re the moments that two people I love met their Savior, the moment they were freed from any pain, the moment they were made whole.
In a span of less than 48 hours I lost two incredibly influential men from my life, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. Selfishly, I had trouble giving thanks for their lives and instead wondered how much more bad news I had to get. My family urged me not to leave and return to the States, which of course I thought was ridiculous. I was broken and angry. I didn’t want to feel like the emotional basket case any more, I didn’t know how to interact with my team, I didn’t know how to be here.
About 4 months ago I told a friend of mine that I would pause from the Race and return home if something happened to a family member, despite what anyone back home wanted me to do. I had decided, I had, and I never asked the Lord what He thought. Sometime on Sunday, while trying to make sense of things, I realized His timing, of these things happening just 4 weeks from the end. I knew I was supposed to stay here. If I left I wouldn’t finish the right way.
But I was angry! Why did it have to happen now? 4 weeks! That’s all!
Pride and entitlement crept in.
I haven’t been perfect this year, but I feel like I did a decent job, God. I’ve “pressed-in” and “processed” the crap out of 10 months. Now is when you think I could use a storm? Couldn’t I just spend a peaceful 5 weeks with You? Instead I can’t figure out how to communicate with my team, my body physically feels like it will fall apart any day now, emotionally I feel like I’ve been hit by a Mac truck. Why is it that I’ve never wanted to quit this thing until now? The 11th hour? I’m sorry, Lord, but I think this might be more than I can take.
That’s exactly what was supposed to happen: ‘more than I can take.’ Why? Because I’m not supposed to ‘take’ it. I’ve been asking the Lord to show me what He had to teach me in these final months of the Race, so why would I expect that month 11 would be an exception? Just because I did 10 months didn’t mean I deserved one last simple one. Betsy, my squad coach sent me this message:
It's always huge when we are in a season of discovering our thresholds. You are learning that you can hold more than you ever thought possible because there's no choice but to keep living and at the same time be at the end if yourself and navigating with supernatural Holy Spirit indwelling.
Thresholds. That’s what He wants to show me. I was indeed feeling “at the end of myself” and it’s there that I could find the beginning of HIM. When I found myself angry at my Father was the same time that I knew I needed Him, and only Him. He’s the only thing that felt steady. I needed Him to heal my heart, but in that broken heart I could sit and cry with Him. Each new day that came brought a little less hurt and a lot more lessons. It’s so obvious to me that He has orchestrated this month exactly the way it has played out, including the mosquito bites, physical exhaustion, relational difficulties, and painful grief. He also orchestrated the incredible people we’d meet in this country, the new friendships, the love given to me by the tangible “family” I have here, the opportunity to hear His voice.
Abby, you’re ok. I’ve got you. I also have Papa and Jason.
