I was staring out of the bus window from our little Bolivian village back to society when I looked up at some of the most beautiful stars I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that I am one month away from touch down in the United States.
We prepare so much for the world race. We have training camps, we have endless amounts of packing blogs to read and we have online training resources all to help prepare us for the race. But I began to think about how little we prepare for the race ending.
For me at least, the world race was something I dreamed about for 4 years. But what I never prepared for or even remotely thought about was what it would feel like when that dream comes to an end.
I’ll be vulnerable for a moment here. I am absolutely terrified to come home. I’m terrified that I don’t fit into my life anymore. But what scares me even more is the expectations from everyone awaiting my arrival.
I don’t by any means discredit the love and encouragement my friends and family back home have given me. The letters I’ve opened and messages I’ve received over the past year have been what’s helped me continue on when I’ve wanted to quit. World racers need encouragement from our communities back home to make it through this journey.
But what I want to do is put an end to people putting their world racers on pedestals.
Over the course of the past 10 months I’ve gotten multiple messages with things like
“I’m so proud of you.”
“You’re gonna be changed forever.”
or
“I couldn’t do what you’re doing.”
I know your words are intended to be kind. I know that they may even be true. But what happens is we now feel unintentional pressure being placed on us. As I was re-reading some of my friend’s messages I began to feel like once I return home I don’t have the freedom to make a mistake.
But the truth is I am going to come home and fail.
Over and over again.
World racers are not super humans.
I know that instagram and facebook make it seem that way. And I will take responsibility for that. We are guilty of portraying perfect scenarios and leaving out the hours we spend crying or the times where we question if God is even real at all. Just because we did the world race doesn’t mean that we have become these super perfect Christians who never fail at anything. I will be the first to tell you we are far from perfect.
In fact I still struggle with the same exact sins that I struggled with before the race.
I’m sometimes too prideful to admit when I’m wrong.
I’m still impatient, ask my teammates – I’ve probably been given feedback on this for 10 months.
I sometimes speak too harshly.
I’ve even struggled with lust.
But what has changed is my confidence in who the Lord has created me to be.
What has changed is I don’t let my failures destroy me anymore. I finally understand what it means when it says in Romans that nothing can separate us from the Father’s love.
So we’re coming home in a month. And the first question we’re often asked is what’s next for us.
And my answer is now one single word – grace.
So have grace for your racer. Have patience for them. Understand that the world race has changed us. And maybe we won’t fit right back in to the life we had before this experience.
But one thing’s for sure. The Lord has so much more for us than the world race.
We may have gone on the world race because we wanted to change the world. But what really happened is the Lord used the world race to change and renew us. It means nothing for us to declare our identity in Christ and keep it inside the confinement of a church, no matter where in the world you are. You don’t have to be on mission trip to live a missional life. Anyone can do what we do. The biggest lie you’ll ever believe is that you have to be in a foreign land to do it.
And sure, you’ll fail. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve failed over the past year. Insecurity wants us to keep track of the times we fail, but grace never keeps score. The Lord has never called us to be successful, He’s called us to be faithful. The rest He promises to take care of.
So it’s time we all take each other off the pedestals. Let’s trash the expectations and trade them for lives of conspicuous grace.
