As I write this, I am lying on top of a pile of packs in the middle of the Quito bus terminal. We arrived here at about 2pm today after 40 hours of travel. I haven’t showered since Saturday afternoon (it is currently Monday evening), I’ve been wearing the same clothes for just as long, and I’ve eaten more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches than any sane human being ever would. This, my friends, is a World Race travel “day,” which is heading into its fourth day at this point. We’re waiting for our final bus, which departs at 11 tonight, and we should arrive at our ministry site tomorrow morning.
I’m not making this up, people.
This is Month 7. I’m officially more than half-way through the Race, a fact that absolutely blows my mind. After spending the first half in Central America and the Caribbean, I have finally returned to my beloved continent of South America.
Usually I don’t write about a country until a few weeks in at least, but this month will have to be the exception. God has already shown me something incredible through Ecuador, even before we crossed the border this morning.
The way the World Race works is that we know which countries our route is going through, but we don’t find out our specific team’s assignment until just a few days before we enter each country. This past Saturday I received my assignment for Ecuador: I will be serving in the city of Cuenca. CUENCA! I couldn’t believe it. My eyes immediately filled with tears. No, I’ve never been there before, but I knew this was a divine appointment. Here’s the story.
A view of the Andes Mountains from our second bus of this journey
Many moons ago I was a freshman at Rhodes College, intending to major in International Studies. All students at Rhodes are required to study a foreign language through the 201 level, with the exception of I.S. majors, who have to go through 202. I started my freshman year in Spanish 102, then took 201 in the spring. It was then that I hatched a plan.
Every year Rhodes offers a Spanish Maymester in Latin America, which is the equivalent of one Spanish class. I decided that I should take that maymester and finish up all of my Spanish classes so I could “get them out of the way.” I wouldn’t have to take any more Spanish, and I could “focus on my major instead.” But here’s the thing: I’m super indecisive. I have a hard time making decisions that I feel can radically affect an entire experience, and that spilled over into this maymester. I waffled multiple times (God bless Professor Henager for putting up with my crazy emails…), but eventually I decided I couldn’t do it. The maymester was too expensive, and I was just going to have to forego that opportunity. I was crushed. I was going to have to take my last Spanish class the following fall instead of “getting it out of the way” that summer. I was going to have to study Spanish in Memphis, Tennessee, instead of Cuenca, Ecuador.
Little did I know that that decision actually changed my life. It was through that on-campus Spanish class my sophomore year that I realized I could minor in the language if I took one class every semester. I kept studying more and more Spanish, and I absolutely fell in love. That’s why I started volunteering at my beloved Su Casa Family Ministries, the place that would become my home-away-from-home and also inspire my passion for immigration reform. If I had “gotten Spanish out of the way” in Ecuador that summer so I could “focus on my major” (side note, I ended up not even majoring in I.S.), I never would have gone to Argentina, I wouldn’t have met my friends there, I wouldn’t have found my Argentine church, and I would have never experienced Spanish worship. I would not have gained “advanced proficiency” in Spanish. I would not have committed to this as a lifelong passion. And most significantly, I would not be on the World Race. If I had gone to Cuenca, Ecuador, four years ago, as I had originally planned, I would not be sitting on this pile of packs in the Quito bus terminal, typing out this blog on my phone. My life would be radically different. I simply would not be who I am today.
And that’s why I burst into tears when I got my Month 7 ministry assignment. God never promised me Cuenca all those years ago. When I said no to the maymester, I assumed that was the end of my connection to that place. I actually forgot that I had wanted to go there, but God didn’t. He remembered Freshman Betsy’s dream and orchestrated my life into something I never could have imagined, that just so happened to include Cuenca after all. He remembered me. ME. He fulfilled a prayer I hadn’t even fully articulated. The God who created the universe remembered me and gave me the desires of my heart.
I am not forgotten.
I am important in the eyes of the Creator.
He has a plan for me.
I have high hopes for Cuenca. I never know what each month will hold, but I know that the place itself is a fulfillment of God’s promises.
Month 7, bring it on.
