Our first travel day on the Race…still feeling like a dream rather than reality. After a smooth flight to Guatemala City we began our "quick" four hour drive to Quiche, our new home for the month. Even though it was the first day of the race I had quickly learned that there is no such thing as quick on the world race…and our plans/itinerary really don't matter to God, because this is His race and He has something so much better planned!
After five hours of driving, only thirty minutes away from "our" destination…traffic comes to a hault. There has been an accident and we are not quite sure how long it will take. And out of no coincidence at all we are stuck in front of a church. So in our first opportunity to choose joy, after seventeen hours of travel, hearing the familiar sweet sound of worship, we decided to walk in and join this church in their singing. And that is when the World Race became real for me…and more importantly when Jesus became even more real for me.
As I ran out from the pouring rain with my pink rain jacket covering my head and crossed the threshold into that tiny church that Our Father so clearly had intended us to find, the presence of God hit us like a wall. It was no mega church, there were no fancy cushioned chairs, no choir, or high tech speakers, with elaborate decorations, but a handmade banner with the word Jesus boldly hanging in a room with no more than fifty plastic chairs, a man playing a keyboard, and a woman singing with everything she had in front of a few people, all on their knees, all crying out to their Father.
The second my foot stepped into that humble sanctuary, I knew I had stepped into my Father's home, I knew that He was there, even in this remote little town in the mountains, He was there in Guatemala, with his handful of devoted children. And apparently I wasn't the only one who felt his overwhelming presence, with tears streaming down my face, I turn to look at my squad, many of which were crying too. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before, never have I felt the presence of God so strong before in my life! On my knees, I ran my hands across the cold tile of the church and just thought to myself about how long my Father had planned this moment, about how many obstacles and trials had brought me here, to this small Mayan village in the mountains of Guatemala. And for the first time in my life I was never more sure that this was exactly where I was suppose to be, stuck on the side of the road, not sure of what lied ahead, but for the first time not really caring. I was in the presence of my Father and nothing could ever feel more real or right or perfect than that!
We returned to the vans to find out that there had been a horrible accident, a car had slid over the side of the cliffs, killing a family of five. My heart sunk. I had asked God to give me a heart that breaks for His people on this race, He had come thru. Sitting in the piled up van with my squad mates, we began to pray. With tears streaming down my face as I looked out of my window covered with raindrops,I felt my Father remind me that he is good in the sun and in the rain. These 11 months aren't going to be easy. My heart is going to break, but I have faith that my God is good in the sun and the rain, and that is enough to get me thru anything.
