It’s true. I’m back in the “good ol’ USA” but I’m more broken then when I left. After spending a year overseas living in some of the worst conditions, seeing the devastation of poverty, and the lives of women destroyed by human trafficking, it would be normal to say that it messed me up a bit. Not to mention, I spent 341 days with a group of people that I now call my family. This is not to say I didn’t enjoy my time on the race. God brought me so much freedom in a lot of areas in my life! He revived my love for teaching, for missions again, and my love for him. He surrounded me with an awesome community and I got to be a part of his work across the nations.
However, I feel like God used the race to shine a light on some of the areas of my life that still need saving… that still need healing. And I was not ok with this. My anxiety heightened during my last 2 months of the race. I knew God had put in my heart that I would need to go back to counseling after but I didn’t want to go. I pushed it to the side, hoping that it wasn’t anything serious. I repeated scripture, worshiped, and prayed without ceasing (literally) but the anxiety became so intrusive that I could only cry out to God in desperate need of his healing. Through it all, he reminded me “Christa, I am here. You’re my daughter. I will never leave you. I have not forsaken you.” God reminded me I was a fighter- A MIGHTY WARRIOR FOR HIM- even when I didn’t feel like it.
In Nicaragua (month 10) I found myself face down on the floor, hands gripping the concrete, tears cascading down my face as I wallowed in a pit of despair and loneliness. I had my teammates there to console me and pray for me which I am forever grateful for … but sadly it didn’t take away the torment I had been facing. On top of this, that month God asked me to let go of a special relationship in my life.
This was not like the other relationships. This one was different. He became my best friend. One of my biggest supporters and made me feel loved in so many different ways. And I could be myself. Goofy, tired, frustrated, moody, angry all of it and he still accepted me for me. Everything I could want in a guy was standing right in front of me and for the majority of the race I felt like this was something that only God himself could orchestrate. Now, policy on the race is not to date your squad mates. So we decided not to do so and remain focused on the Lord, but we wanted to pursue it after the race. We were excited about what God was doing in us and how he had been answering our prayers on the race…
but then God told us to let each other go.
In the same month, we both felt that God asked us to surrender each other to him. I know, sounds weird right?
And that’s where I’m at today. Letting go of this person. Letting go of what could have been. Letting go of the memories and the things we said to one another that meant so much. I can tell you it still stings a little bit revisiting the moment I left on the plane without him.
I grieved. I grieved not only letting this person go, but a future that may never happen. The dream of one day getting married had evaporated. A life that I thought was going to happen was thrown away. And can I be honest? It hurts.
I thought I would come back from the race better than before I left in January. I thought going on the race I would be healed of anxiety and that I would be a stronger person ready to take on this next big thing. However I came back depleted … utterly broken. My mind broken. My heart broken. My relationship with God even felt broken.
After saying good-bye to a year of love, joy, beautiful memories, and amazing sites, I came home and I asked God “Why, Father?” This time he was silent. “Papa, why am I so broken?” Still, he was silent. Maybe if I raised my voice he could hear me. “GOD! WHY AM I SO BROKEN AFTER ALL I’VE DONE FOR YOU!?” There it was. I wasn’t asking God for the real answer. I was asking him why he would allow me to go through this. What I was really asking was “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?” Because of course, at this point I wasn’t trusting him. I was confused. In denial. Hurt. And I blamed God for all of it. I had one fist up at God, while my hand was on my heart asking for him to forgive me at the same time. I wanted him close but I also wanted him far away from me. I wanted to talk to God but I also wanted to yell at him too. As my good father, why would you allow such heartache in my life?
Then God reminded me of his son. Jesus. All the heartache, betrayal, rejection and abandonment he went through as well. The Bible says that Jesus was “ a man of sorrows,” and “acquainted with grief.” ( Isaiah 53:3) God incarnate also knew what brokenness was. His body was broken on the cross just for me so if anyone understood this season of my life, it was him. This is what sharing in the sufferings of Christ looks like. I’ll get to that some other day.
After speaking with my counselor he was able to identify the issue. What I have is OCD, obsessive-compulsive disorder. The obsessive thoughts, never feeling enough, compulsions to repeat certain sentences and even prayers in my head, constant feeling of dread and fear of the unknown, the replaying of the “what-if’s” all added up to OCD. And so there I was in the counselor’s office face to face with it. The reason for the rumination of intrusive thoughts and obsessions over irrational fears stemmed from OCD. At first, I felt relief.
But then I wondered “What would my Christian community think if they knew I had this?” Sometimes, Christians can be ruthless when it comes to mental illness. Shame started to well up inside me. As I started to talk about the stigma of mental illness and Christianity, my counselor firmly responded by saying “There is no shame when someone is diagnosed with cancer right, or has a broken arm? Physically they are hurt. So what’s the difference if you’re hurt mentally or emotionally?” He was right.
It was there I recognized that God doesn’t run away from ANY hurt. Reread that again. God doesn’t say ” You’re too broken for me to fix.” Instead he runs to you to embrace you. His love is what washes over us even in our brokenness. He is not afraid of ANY hurt. He is there. He is so gentle and so sincere. He is there listening to me even when I repeat the same thing over and over again to him. My God does not slumber and he delights in hearing his daughter’s voice. And guess what, GOD IS A HEALER! This season of my life does not compare to the glory that will appear when he comes back or when he takes me with him. It just won’t.
The point is God didn’t take me through these 11 months to leave me when I got back home. The World Race was a mirror. It showed me how flawed I am and how fallen the world is, but how loving and faithful God is through all of it. God allowed me to go on the race because I’ve been wanting to go on an adventure like this since I was a little girl. I wanted to serve him across the world and as my good father, he fulfilled that promise. God took me on the race to remind me how much I need him DAILY. He wanted to teach me how to surrender control, to surrender my plans, and to learn how to trust him even in the midst of confusion and pain. God is sowing deep roots in me so I can be soley rooted in him.
And it’s as simple as this. HE LOVES ME.
Now God is taking me on a new journey. Currently, I am taking healthy measures to get myself better; to get myself stronger again. I still keep in touch with my squad mates. I am attending church again and getting plugged into the small groups there. I also started an assistant teaching job at a preschool in my hometown that I absolutely love. God is taking care of me. I am learning to take it one day at a time. It’s hard. Some days more than others.
Why did I tell you all of this? Because as Christians, we run away from telling others the truth: that we are hurting. That we are broken. We hide behind a mask of “I have it altogether,” so that no one knows what is really going on. Some of us don’t even know what we are actually broken from! We fear people will judge us for the troubles we face and how we handle them.
I wrote this for that person. That person who is afraid to speak up about their anxiety and depression. I am writing this for the girl who was also searching for love and had to give it up. For the person, who just came off a mission’s trip who is trying to process what they went through.
I am also writing this for the person who has mental illness and is ashamed of it because they’re a Christian. I am writing this to the person who has been striving their whole life to be validated and affirmed. And for the person who thinks they’re just not enough to be loved. This is for you! There is hope!
Know that I am here with you. I hear you. I am there walking through that valley with you so you’re not alone. Also know that your Papa is there with you too. He has not left you stranded. He still is carrying you through this.
I don’t know what God has for my future, but there’s a beauty in that, I think. I know God has the BEST for me, but God wants me to look forward to the BEST in today not in tomorrow. Not in next week or next year. Today. In this moment. In this minute. To soak in the beauty of who He is and WHO I AM in him ALONE.
