Part 1:
“I don’t know. To be honest, I’m not sure if I really believe in Jesus, or if I just go along with it because it’s part of the Sunday School Bible stories. I believe in God, but I can’t tell you for sure that I really believe in Jesus” – That was my honest answer to one of the World Race staff members during training camp. Read the rest of this to see how that answer changed…
My parents are firm believers. I was raised in church. My sister is a missionary. But I have always questioned my faith. I’m a logical person. I need proof. And I have waaaaaay more questions than answers. It’s pretty hard to have the faith that I see in other believers when I am constantly questioning everything. I knew that this trip would be a challenge long before I was accepted. I am by no means the strongest Christian. I have a good heart, I love to help others, and I try to lead my life by example… but I rarely go to church, I don’t have many really strong Christian friends, and I question everything from the Bible to Jesus to how the Holy Spirit works and everything in between. Yet, somehow, I have this drive to try and seek God and to learn more about Jesus. I don’t know how to explain it, but the further I am from the path that God wants me to be on, the more I feel this odd loneliness inside that nothing else can fill. I’ve tried both options: Life with and Life without God/Christ. Time after time, I have found that even though I don’t understand it and can’t explain it, my life is just so much better when I give up my own plans and try to walk the path that God has set for me.
So, there I was at training camp, the last real test before really deciding if I would go on the World Race. There was still time to turn back, chalk this up to a silly “God runs the universe” idea, and return to some type of normal 9-5 life where I could get a job that pays well, have all the material things that make us “happy”, and chase the “American Dream”. There’s only one big problem: My heart was set on doing the World Race, even if I don’t understand it.
The first couple of days were full of activities and worship, which I’m used to. Some people have their hands in the air, singing at the top of their lungs. I stand there with my hands in my pockets, trying to figure out why the songs keep calling God “Lord” and wondering if it has something to do with a form of social control. Then as we read the Bible verses, I can’t help but wonder if it’s weird to blindly follow ancient texts that have been translated and re-interpreted since before 2,000 years ago. It’s not that I’m that skeptical… it’s that I’m curious. Next, this pastor comes up and starts talking about Jesus. He talks about pain and hurt and questioning faith. He talks about some of those “Where was Jesus when…???” moments. Then he says to think of someone who has hurt you deeply and to close your eyes and imagine it and to ask God to help you forgive them. So, I close my eyes. All I can think about is the many people that I’ve hurt. So, I’m saying to myself F$#& this. This is stupid. Then the guy next to me starts crying. He’s a big dude, a man’s man. So I just put my hand on his back to comfort him. Still can’t think of anyone who hurt me besides myself. After a few minutes, half the room is crying. This is weird. I take my hand off the guy’s back and start to try and figure out what is going on with everyone else. I close my eyes again and try to think of someone who has hurt me and needs forgiveness. All I can think about still is all the people I’ve hurt in my life… which leads me to have one of those “OK, where was Jesus when___???” moments. Now, I’m getting angry. I don’t understand this religion stuff, everyone around me is crying, and all I can think about is questioning Jesus. So, I roll with it.
As I’m sitting there, I get angrier. I start silently cursing out God. I’m trying to figure out where God was when my parents got divorced, or where he was when things went terribly wrong in Iraq, or where he was when Alex and Nick got killed, or where he was when Clay took his life. I don’t usually get angry, but I’m mad now. “Where were you God? Huh?! Where the F%^$# were you then?” And so, I start thinking about a couple of experiences in particular. Ones that really hurt. And I remember that they both led me to isolate myself from other people. So, I feel like maybe God was trying to teach me something during those times and I ask “Why, God? Why?!” and then, I kid you not, I could almost hear a voice saying “I was teaching you to be alone” Now, I can start to feel tears run down my cheeks and I get even angrier. I say “Well, what the F&%$ would you do that for?!?! Why couldn’t you have let me learn to be around other people and be happy??!! Why would you teach me to be alone?!?!?!!” For years, I’ve fought against the anger and depression of some of the decisions that I made in Iraq, decisions that I felt isolated me from other platoons and even my own. The same happened after my parents’ divorce when I was about 8 years old. So, I learned to just shut down emotionally and do things by myself. Now, God is telling me that he did that on purpose so I could learn to be alone?!
Now I’m really crying. Bawling like a little kid. I start to think about all the things I do by myself: I bike alone, backpack alone, travel alone, pretty much everything. A year and a half ago, I isolated myself from everyone I know. I just didn’t care about anything and didn’t want other people in my life. I even backpacked through Patagonia by myself for 5 weeks last year just because I enjoy being alone (and it was awesome). By being alone, I’ve learned a lot about myself and have become incredibly self-sufficient. I can lead and get things done. But, I’ve always had a hard time making new friends or doing the group stuff that everyone seems to enjoy together. I’ve wanted to open myself up more to other people, but it’s just not there. So, as I’m sobbing, I’m still silently cursing God and I say “Okay, great, you taught me to be alone so I could learn to do stuff on my own. I get it. Fantastic. Brilliant idea.” and then I said “Alright. I’ve got it. I can do stuff on my own. How about teaching me to not put walls up and be by myself? Because that would be really great.” And I’m not kidding that as soon as I said this, the guy next to me, the same guy who I had comforted earlier when he started crying, puts his hand on my back. I had completely forgot that I was in a room with other people. Approximately 250 of them who are all doing the World Race. And I could almost hear God say “I’ve brought you here for this. To lead, and to force you to be around others for a year. Let your walls down. Embrace these people. Learn to love.”
And suddenly, I felt like a weight had been lifted. I felt like God had placed me here, with these people, to teach me how to love Him and trust Him and to learn to love and trust the rest of my team. To finally let the walls down. To drop the shield and spear that I feel like I’ve been carrying for so long. I stopped crying and opened my eyes. I just sat there thinking about it… and still had some tears coming down my face. After that, we broke up into groups to talk about the forgiveness exercise. I had forgotten all about the point of the entire thing. We split off with all of the men only from our squad along with a couple of counselors and staff and started to talk about it. I was still thinking about the weird experience I had just had. A lot of the other guys shared things about forgiving people such as ex-girlfriends, fathers, step-parents, and other people who had really hurt them in their lives. I told what had happened to me but that I had forgot the point of the exercise. And then it dawned on me, the person I need to forgive is myself, and God. One of the other counselors said it out loud about the same time I was thinking it, and I realized that it’s true. I need to forgive myself and I need to forgive God.
This year, I will learn many lessons. This is just the beginning of them. What a powerful experience. Still something that I continue to think about and work on. I realize this blog is really long and I still didn’t answer the question about believing in Jesus. You’ll have to check back for Part 2 to see how that played out the following couple of days.
Next blog: Questioning my faith, and the decision I made.
*As a side note, I am still over $6,000 from being fully funded. Please share this with anyone who you think might be interested in being part of an amazing story as it unfolds.
