Since learning I’m going on The World Race, I spend about 95% of my time living in the surreal. The other 5% is made up of really small glimpses of truth, that says “no this is actually real life.” I’m graduating and in seven short months, I’m actually leaving the country. For 11 months. I’m actually really thankful that these moments aren’t the norm, because they’re ridiculously scary.
Because in those moments, I hear the lie (but isn’t that how lies work? We only hear them when we’re really close to living in truth). The lie sounds different, but it always does the same thing. It questions my calling and identity.
Why am I doing this?
Adventure looks more like an unplanned road trip instead of an expedition around the world. Extroverted looks like talking to five people instead of 50. Dirty looks like not washing my hair for day instead of not showering for a week. I don’t like most food. I really enjoy my bed. And I have no clue what to do when I grow up.
Not exactly the definition of a World Racer. Cue the identity crisis.
Criticism hurts. Badly and deeply. But there’s a reason why criticism hurts so much. It cuts straight to the doubt and to the lie that I’m holding on to it. I only accept it because it reveals the lie I already own. It slaps me in the face with my brokenness. I’m faced with the decision to hide it or bring it to the cross. To my Savior. To my Perfecter.
“Here is my servant whom I uphold, my chosen one, in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on [her] and [she] will bring justice to the nations.” Isaiah 42:1
I have a really hard time believing that I’m a Future Racer. It’s for the same reason I don’t call myself a runner even though I’ve ran a marathon. I don’t feel like a runner. I don’t feel like a Racer. But the reality is I’m not just a racer. I wasn’t created to go on The World Race. I’m his servant to the nations and The World Race is the medium for me to reflect His image.
So yeah I’ll give up after a week if pursuing adventure is my motivation. I’ll be burnt out after a month if trying to love people well is my goal. I’m not cut out for this because I’m not cut out of anything, rather I have a place in Him. It’s not that I can do anything with Him; it’s that I can do nothing without Him.
I’m doing the Race because I love God, and I’m his servant. And it’s scary the longer I think about it. But He tells me to “take courage.” Which means moving in my smallness despite my fear, and believing He’s big enough to do the rest.
So I’m not a Racer. I’m His Servant.
So who are you? For starters, you’re the Beloved. So be loved.
