Life on the race has been both incredible, and incredibly challenging (at least from my perspective). Being on the World Race hasn’t automatically made my spiritual life flourish, if anything I’ve had to fight harder to maintain my connection with God. I’m still adjusting to sharing a space with 12 other people. (If you’re confused, this month my team of 7 girls is partnered up with team Unsilenced, a group of 6.) I’m finding myself setting my alarm much earlier than I’d like in hopes of being the first one up. I’m a snooze button junkie, but the mornings I have gotten up first have been a breath of fresh air. Its a good day if I can squeeze in 30 minutes of quiet time before we start shoveling a truckload of dirt and rock. During our downtime I can usually be found trying to scrounge up some nourishing food and waiting in line to use our shower. Even when we’re not working, people are bustling around, and it can be difficult to process my experiences and thoughts.
Our evenings are filled with lots of neat stuff. Our group leads a bible study on Monday nights, we do prayer walks over the town of Jaco on Wednesdays, attend Christian surfers meetings on Thursdays (think beach culture version of Young Life) attend the Spanish speaking church on Friday evenings (Iglesia Radical), run kids club in the park on Saturday mornings, and teach sunday school at the English speaking church on Sundays. This month (both work and play) has been BUSY. After we wrap up for the day, my team of 7 girls gets together to spend time investing in each other and sharing how we’ve seen God move throughout the day. Our day starts at 9am and we usually finish up team time around 10 or 11pm. I don’t know if I processed a complete thought until our weekend off began. The property we’re staying at is enclosed with a tall metal gate, and it made me realize how caged in I’ve been feeling, both physically and spiritually. With how rushed and overstimulated I’ve felt these past 10 days I’ve been wrestling with God a little bit.
“Why? Why would you send me on this trip just so I can feel disconnected from you? You know how much I love being alone with you. Is that even going to happen this year?”
God didn’t answer my question right away. The Holy Spirit was waiting to connect with me, but I was too busy complaining about my new circumstances to hear what He wanted to whisper to me.
His response came in small pieces, in those moments where I was willing to still my mind and open myself up to His gentle voice. I’ve never heard God audibly speak, but I’ve had numerous experiences that I know, that I know, that a thought in my head is actually His voice.
Here’s a few things I heard:
“You’re not cut off from me. Can you find 5 free minutes? I’d love to meet you then.”
“I’m here even when it’s busy all around you. I’m always with you.”
“This trip isn’t making you less connected to Me. Your new reality is only revealing what a spiritual band-aid used to cover.”
“You’re only caged in by the limitations of your own mind. Focus on my promises and you’ll find freedom.”
I refuse to speak limitations over myself, but I can foreshadow that come of my challenges this coming year will be the fact that I am constantly surrounded by a large amount of people, and a lack of control over my environment. Instead of looking at these situations as challenges, I’m choosing to see them as opportunities. Opportunities to see where I’m turning to broken cisterns instead of tapping into the wellspring of life that’s available to me. Opportunities to trust God in ways I’ve never been challenged before.
One of my teammates verbalized that she is pursuing peace in all circumstances. I’m playing copy-cat and adding that to my list of goals. 2 Thessalonians 3:16 says it like this, “Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way.” Our God is a God of peace, and it wouldn’t be in the bible if it were not available to us.
Costa Rica will likely be one of our most comfortable months on the race. The weather will get hotter, and we’ll be required to wear more clothing. We might not have an indoor shower and a flushing toilet. We likely won’t have a stove to cook our meals and a fridge to cool our water. The beach won’t always be a few blocks away. Thank you Jesus for easing me into the discomfort you’ve called me into. You know just what my heart needs.
Getting to the point: my life looks a little different now, but my God hasn’t changed.
