You, dear blog reader, are a very important part of this experience…

Insignificance.

Many
of my fears come back to this one: that I am insignificant. To this
world, to people. That I am easily replaceable.

About
a month ago, our squad went through a time of transitions. Aaron and
Caroline, our beloved squad leaders, chose Dan and Brandy to take
over for them and lead this squad

Also,
it was announced that the teams were going to change.

This
team change brought those fears back in a powerful way.

My
Team (7 camels) was… dysfunctional… at times, but we fought for
each other, and I believed in us. Ireland, Romania, and Montenegro
were full of laughs, tears, anger, and joy because of the six people
that walked with me. Who else really knew about David and “BUFA!”
or why I was so angry at that volleyball game, or why we worried
about whether Audrey had Rabies shots, or the way that Robin dealt
with uncomfortable situations, or that time in the laundry room in
Dublin when Jodi fought for us, or… romance… oh bromance… I
couldn’t imagine this experience without each and every one of them.

 

The
team changes: Jodi, Robin, Matt and Audrey stayed together. Rebecca
joined Austin’s team, and Adam and I joined Melanie’s team with
Emily, Hope, Geoff and Michelle.

When
we we split up, and they announced the team changes, I didn’t think
to much of it, at first. We had a mandatory silence, and I just kinda
sat there. Hope and Emily and I were pretty close already and I loved
them, so I was pretty excited to be able to see them more. Melanie
and I had bonded in Ireland, and I remember that I really wanted to
be on a team with Michelle at training camp, and also said that Geoff
was the most valuable person on one of my test teams. It made sense
to me, and I was pretty excited about my new team, because I
sincerely liked every person I was with.

That
night, we were split into teams for dinner. I saw Robin, and most of
my old team sitting together, and… it hit me. My family is
broken up. We had worship right after that, and I just crawled
into a corner and wept and wept. It was the strangest thing.
At first I had no idea why I was reacting this way. Gradually things
became a little clearer. I really fought for the team, and for the
individuals on the team. It was hard that I tried so hard, and I
wouldn’t be able to see the fruit from it.

But…
there was more. I asked God. I listened for a while, and then it
became clear. One of my greatest fears is insignificance. That I will
be easily forgotten. All of a sudden, I remembered the day that my
stepmother left. She took away my little brother, Dalon, and I
haven’t really seen him since. It’s like those years that I had with
him meant nothing… like they didn’t exist. I was weeping,
grieving the past, and that goodbye. It came out of nowhere.

As
I sat in the corner during worship, I tired to deal with these
emotions. My defense mechanisms that I had set up were staring at me,
ready to come in full force, to protect me from this pain again. I
chose to be vulnerable with my team, I fought for them, I tried so
hard to make it okay, and now… it’s broken. Just like my family
back home. Those defense mechanisms of “don’t be vulnerable”
“everyone is going to leave, so don’t get to close” “don’t
get attached” were already starting to build. If I mess up,
everyone will leave. Everyone will leave anyways.

I
then heard God speak to me in a way that surprised me. I was
expecting comfort in the assurance that everyone won’t leave. What I
got was, “So what? Anna, what if everyone does leave? What if
you labored in vain for months and no one cares? What if everyone
does forget about you?”

“Um…
that would suck God.”

He
reminded me of my favorite scripture when I was sixteen: Isaiah
49:17 Can a ,mother forget the baby at her breast and have no
compassion on the one that she has born? Even if she forgets you, I
will never forget you. I have engraved you on the palms of my
hands…” Even if everyone does. I won’t.

“Huh.
Okay….” I said.

He
then told me, “You have a choice. You can choose to be
vulnerable with this new team, with the new family that I have given
you. Or you can choose to be safe, and not open up.”

I
saw vividly the two roads ahead of me: one was safe, and I was closed
off, the other was unknown. I have absolutely no guarantee that these
people will stay in my lives, I have absolutely no guarantee that
they won’t reject me when they really get to know me. I have no
control over what happens, so…. do I choose to be vulnerable? To
risk?

The
greatest regret past racers say that they have is not choosing into
vulnerability sooner. I know that I can’t face the things that this
experience is making me face alone. I need people around me, to love
me, to pray for me, to encourage me. And they need me. They need me
to choose into them, and I want to be a life-giver. So, I’m choosing
in. Into this new team, and into risking.

I
mean, we like the band journey, and life is a journey, but there
isn’t a significant meaning attached to it, at least not yet. Here’s
where you come in.

What
should “Journey” mean? Leave a comment about it, and inspire us a
little. You, dear blog reader, are a very important part of this
whole experience, and I don’t think you have any idea how much
comments encourage me. I can’t wait to hear your ideas.

Peace,
love and frozen bananas,

Anna