It was a blissfully cool Sunday morning.
A group of us woke up at 5am to walk to a spot where we could watch the sun rise over the majestic volcanoes that surround Lake Atitlán.
Bundled up in fleece blankets provided by the local awesome hostel (La Iguana), we plopped ourselves down on a beautiful bridge and awaited the rising of the sun.
Crrrreeeaak and then whoosh.
All 10 of us are swimming in the lake surrounded by planks of wood and a few stray head lamps.
The bridge literally collapsed underneath us.
What started as a picturesque quiet morning enjoying the Lord’s stunning creation turned into a chaotic disaster.
Trying to process why we’re all sopping wet and what the heck just happened, our group scrambled to either side of the bridge to hang on to something stable and hopefully hoist our way out of the water.
People are yelling for one of our teammates who doesn’t know how to swim. Thankfully the Lord protected him and he was close enough to the edge of the bridge that he was able to scramble off before we all went plunging into the abyss of Lake Atitlán.
With some help from teammate Ethan, I was able to climb over a wall and make it back onto dry shore.
Everyone safe and sound, we turned our attention to our missing possessions.
Unfortunately I had both my team phone and iPhone on me and they both had the misfortune of going swimming with me in the lake. They did not come out as unscathed as I did.
Physically fine, mentally shaken.
The bridge collapse for me was the climax of a lot of what the Lord has been doing in my heart for the past couple weeks.
I’m a team leader. Thus far my leadership experience has consisted of primarily being a sports captain. When you’re the captain of a sport, generally this indicates some level of excellence at the sport itself and the ability to lead others well to compete against an opponent.
As a team leader on the Race, this is entirely new territory.
I’m new. I have no idea what’s going on. I understand about 25% of the Spanish spoken at me everyday since (thankfully) it’s somewhat related to French.
It’s month 1. All squad month. Finances are tricky and spending quality time with my team with the distraction of 50 other competing friends is hard.
I’m failing.
So God and I had a moment.
He sat me down, as I finally got my sunrise over the gorgeous volcanoes, and He reassured me that my position has nothing to do with what I offer and everything to do with who He is and who He’s calling me to be.
Isaiah 55:8-9 reads, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”
I felt so weak and helpless at the bridge. I was panicked and only thought of myself and getting myself to shore. I was ashamed that I cared so much about losing technology. In a moment of despair over my own total depravity, I found immense comfort in knowing that my Savior’s thoughts & ways are so inconceivably higher and better and greater than my thoughts & ways that I can rest in His grace that is sufficient and completely covers me.
Honestly, when I see my sin so clearly and the utter mess that I am, the Gospel is made so much more beautiful. It’s actually in spite of who I am and what I’ve done that the Lord loves me. I can’t earn it. When I am weak, He is strong.
And then God and I had a laugh. Because Isaiah 55 (as mentioned above) starts with, “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters” and unfortunately for me, God had to literally bring me INTO the water for me to learn this lesson.
So this past weekend a bridge collapsed underneath me. And with it collapsed my broken thinking that I had to be the strong one and that I could never show weakness as a leader. I am weak. I can’t do this. But with Him and through Him I can.
Thanks for all the prayers and PTL for keeping us safe in a precarious situation!
Much love from Quiché, Guatemala,
Forever His,
Grace
