I applied for the World Race in late July.
I was accepted one week later.
Everything else is history.
Oh, how I wish it were that simple. A good, loving, sweet friend of mine, Lydia Shaw, is on her own race right now. It was with a divine appointment that she was put into my life. When she first told me about the race, my interest was spiked exponentially. At that time, I had never been on a mission trip, but my heart longed for such a journey. Although that race was something I was interested in, I knew it would never be something for me. It was something that was good in theory, but that was about it. Then, she began to post things on Facebook asking for support. So, I started creeping. I creeped on her.I creeped on The World Race.I creeped on other bloggers. Then it became reality. I began to tell people about this opportunity and how I felt like it was something I needed to do. I received mostly positive feedback, some negative. My mentors told me to pray about it, to wait until I had gone a mission trip. My friends told me they supported me, no matter the decision. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turn into months, and The World Race became something I thought about all the time. It was something I couldn’t stop talking about, but I still hadn’t applied. I was scared of rejection. I was scared that I wouldn’t be fully equipped. I was scared of the reaction I would get when I told others of this journey that I might be embarking on. I was scared of being called a hypocrite.
Then, I went on my first (legit) mission trip- The Dominican Republic. A group of us were there for one week. We fell in love. It was obvious that God was working through the people and G.O. Ministry (the organization we went through). It pained me to leave. I arrived back on U.S. soil with a heavy heart. I knew The World Race was something I needed to at least apply for or I’d regret it forever. So, I submitted my application. Then I waited. And I waited. And I waited. I received an email telling me that my interview time I had selected wasn’t going to work, and I needed to reschedule. So, I did. Then, I waited. And I waited. The day passed that I had signed up for with no phone call. Instantly, my body began to fill with disgust. I began to question myself. I began to question God.
“Could I really have thought that this was something I could do?”
“How stupid could I have been to think that I could have EVER done this?”
“Why would God put this on my heart?”
“What is God trying to tell me? Why am I so oblivious to hear His words?”
But…I received another email apologizing for the mix up, and I scheduled another time. Honestly, I had already given up, tapped out. I knew I wasn’t going to do it. I knew that this wasn’t something God wanted me to do, but I went through the motions anyway. I received the call. I sat at my desk in my college dorm room. I was shaking and nervous, and I didn’t know why. The more I talked, the more relaxed I felt. With due time, the interview was over, and I felt absolutely relieved. I had 1,001 questions, but nobody to ask. So, I waited. And I waited. And I waited.
Exactly seven days later, I received a phone call telling me I had been accepted!
Say wwwhhhhaaaaaattt?!?!
YES! That’s right! They accepted me! ME!!
The first couple of days after my acceptance were, what I like to call, the honeymoon stage. I had nothing negative to say. I was on board 110%. I was happy. I was ready.
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Or so I thought.
I began to think, and we ALL know nothing good can come when Jamie Lee gets to thinking. Reality began to set in. Doubt began to feel me. It consumed my every being. I put a hold on my fundraising. I stopped telling people I had been accepted. I was afraid. I was afraid of raising the money, and not going. I was afraid of chickening out. I was afraid of letting everybody down. I was afraid of letting go, and I was afraid of letting God. Point blank. I. Was. Just. Scared. Period. I wasn't ready to give up control. I wasn't ready to rely on Him for this. I wasn't ready to accept the magnitude of The World Race. I wasn't ready to tell my parents. I wasn't ready to let Him have all of me. I wasn't ready to face the world, and all of its heartaches. I wasn't ready to leave my bubble in Kentucky. I wasn't ready to leave my family and my friends. I wasn't ready to risk everything. I. Just. Wasn't. Ready. Period.
I began to resent the idea of going on the race. I hated the way I was feeling. I was exhausted of thinking about it. I was so sick and tired of praying about it. I was tired of talking about. I resented the people who asked about it. I stopped reading blogs. I stopped researching fundraising ideas. I stopped believing God. I was mad at God, FURIOUS with God. I resented Him for putting me in this situation. I was just so angry with God! It was literally putting my mind, body, and
spirit through a turmoil I hadn't felt in years. I didn't know if missions were something God wanted me to do full-time. I didn't know what would happen to my "teaching future". Had I really just spent the last 4.5 years preparing for a teaching degree I was never going to use? Was I even going to finish school? What was the point? What was I supposed to do when I got back from The Race, just sit around and wait on God to show me something new? I had already waited long enough. I didn't want to wait anymore. I was exhausted. I started to walk through the motions. I started to yell at God in my prayers. I began to beg for a sign. If this was something I was supposed to do, I wanted Him show me a sign. If this wasn't what I was supposed to do, I wanted Him to give me a sign. I wanted Him to tell me. I wanted Him to show me. I started to doubt God. I thought He had given up on me. I thought He was mad at me. I thought I had done something wrong.
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Then, He spoke, and when He spoke, He yelled right back at me. Businesses and companies began to crawl out of the woodworks to sponsor me. Friends began to pray for/with me. They began to donate their time, money, love, and encouragement. People I'd never met said they would love to help me. People who expected nothing in return handed me checks. It was absolutely unbelievable, but it wasn't enough for me. I thought it was just their way to do their good deed. I wasn't looking for Christ anymore. I wanted Him to look for me. I wanted to have no doubt that I was supposed to go on this life changing adventure. So, I continued to fight, but so did He. He sent a very special person to me who spoke great wisdom into my life. I'd like to say that it was this life altering moment where I literally heard God's voice speak to me, and miraculous things happened, but all she did was tell me about a dream she had had. I may not have heard God's physical voice, but I sure did feel the Holy Spirit. A great peace fell over me, and all I could do was laugh. I wasn't laughing because of the humor in the situation, I was laughing because of my ignorance. God had been yelling at me for weeks and I was too stubborn to see it.
So here I am, several weeks after that moment, and I'm saying "….Here I am. Send me!" -Isaiah 6:8. It’s been a little under two months since my acceptance, and I’ve raised around $1,300. I want to thank each and every one of you who have donated time, money, prayers, encouraging words, etc. I’m still a long way from $15,500, but “who dares despise the day of small things?” –Zechariah 4:10
