Michael Perez, a former World Racer, wrote this poem during his time in Africa. In these lines, he takes the trade. Pursuing with open hands the unknown, leaving the status quo with a vision from the Lord of something greater. Knowing there is more to life than a 9-5, more to community than friendships based around social media, and more to the great commission than just dreaming. This poem has challenged me, inspired me, and continues to give me vision and crazy excitement about the next 13 months.
my race, my race, my race.
my race:
more than the color of my skin and the language I speak,
more than a 5 or 10k,
more than a run in the park, awaiting for the sound of the gun to blast to activate my stride,
my step,
my course.
destiny in the making, purpose for the taking
awakened in a season, rather forsaken a reason for my being,
the reason for my seeing
the reason for my hearing, my speaking,
my life, my choice, my race
my longing to dispose of a comfort and a fear that's recycled and reused me for too long.
too many tears not poured into the right soil, the right soul.
too many years not reaping the ripe harvest, the right mind set in my ways.
reevaluating my calling because I couldn't calculate it,
reconsidering convenience because I couldn't handle the leaving of home;
the known for the unknown.
the digital follow me's that have kept me at ease, appeasing the heart of me,
keeping the real followers at a distance for the scarred of me;
status-quos, fb statuses for real life and unpredictable challenges.
so grow and break the rest of me,
realizing that all of Him is the only best of me for them to see.
I lost part of me in the process,
part of me in the nonsense
part of me to get sense but not change,
my life is worth more than dreams that keep me dreaming and people waiting,
keep me waiting and people dreaming about a love so deep it keeps them gasping for His air
His breath to keep them breathing, His words to keep them believing
longing for more of Him in the form of me and me longing for more of Him in the form of them,
my race:
more than the color of my skin and the language I speak,
more than a 5 or 10k,
more than a run in the park, awaiting for the sound of the gun to blast to activate my stride,
my step,
my course.
destiny in the making, purpose for the taking
awakened in a season, rather forsaken a reason for my being,
the reason for my seeing
the reason for my hearing, my speaking,
my life, my choice, my race
my longing to dispose of a comfort and a fear that's recycled and reused me for too long.
too many tears not poured into the right soil, the right soul.
too many years not reaping the ripe harvest, the right mind set in my ways.
reevaluating my calling because I couldn't calculate it,
reconsidering convenience because I couldn't handle the leaving of home;
the known for the unknown.
the digital follow me's that have kept me at ease, appeasing the heart of me,
keeping the real followers at a distance for the scarred of me;
status-quos, fb statuses for real life and unpredictable challenges.
so grow and break the rest of me,
realizing that all of Him is the only best of me for them to see.
I lost part of me in the process,
part of me in the nonsense
part of me to get sense but not change,
my life is worth more than dreams that keep me dreaming and people waiting,
keep me waiting and people dreaming about a love so deep it keeps them gasping for His air
His breath to keep them breathing, His words to keep them believing
longing for more of Him in the form of me and me longing for more of Him in the form of them,
so I go.
