It’s team time now, as a fellow storyteller it’s become my duty to hold at least two team times a week for us to work on blogging. Tonight is one of them.
When you commit to the World Race you’re obligated to write at least four blogs a month on practically anything you want. The point is to get content out there for your family, friends, supporters, strangers, future racers, random people who stumble across your page because you’re cool uncle shared your blog on his Facebook, to read…AKA share it to the world.
I’ll be the first to say it can be hard. Some months are challenging, exhausting, and your days are extremely long and trust me, I know, the last thing you might want to do is sit down and write about it. But let’s be real, we are living a once in a lifetime adventure and the stories we have are incredible, whether you believe that to be true or not, the story you post could have a life changing impact on one person. Does that make it worth it?
Back to sitting on this couch. A couch I’ve taken countless naps on, read hundred of pages of my book, eaten breakfast, written blogs (aye). This couch is the couch. Sometimes the cushion on the back slips down and falls to the ground completely, it’s low-key annoying, but I still love this couch. Because it’s a couch. When you go on the race, sometimes couches are very hard to come by. So, bless up.
Anywhoooo~
Sitting here, thinking of what to write about, and an idea popped into my head. Hear me out. This past weekend four of my teammates spent three days in Cape Town, and Beeg and I stayed back. I had the sweetest opportunity to have two full, hour long conversations with my mom on the phone. It was gold. Hence, I’ve decided to write a small/huge, big ups, major blessings, praises going up, shout out to my sweet mother, aka my bestie, my right hand and my go to…
Dear mother,
Never, in a million years, would I imagine myself sitting on what I describe as the couch, in Bloemfontein, South Africa, 6 months into traveling the world, writing you a letter of how much I indescribably admire, respect and love you.
Yet, here I am.
Mom, you are strong. You left your family behind to move to the east coast to pursue your career. During that time you got married to my dad. You dedicated your life to Jesus, despite the circumstances surrounding the difficulty in following the Lord, you fought for Him, you fought for your faith and for your relationship with Jesus.17 years and two sweet girls later, you got divorced. Two years later, you packed those two girls up and all that you cared about and moved across the entire country. We moved into our first home in Washington State, you started working full time and you provided. Let me explain when I say the word provided, I say it with a tremendous amount of weight. You poured into Sarah and I, endlessly and what seemed to be effortlessly, but trust me, I know it wasn’t. We were not easy, in fact we were both incredibly challenging.
Now that I am 23 years old, and I understand more of what you went through and what you did for us. More importantly, I understand what a true relationship with the Father looks like, you, mom, were living in the complete overflow of love, grace and mercy of our Father. You couldn’t do it without Him, and you didn’t.
Your walk with Jesus has remained steadfast, and it shows.
Mom, you have a heart so soft and a spirit so gentle, sometimes I wonder if I’m actually your daughter. I mean that in the most beautiful sense. You have the Father’s eyes and heart. I read once, when your heart comes into alignment with the Father’s your heart breaks more and you often grieve more because you begin to see what truly grieves His heart and what causes His heart to break. You love people so well and you see everyone. You let people in and you allow them to feel known by you, even if you spend a short 5 minutes with them. You leave such an impressionable impact, a questionable impact, as to how and why you are able to love so well, and that’s simply because you are the daughter of the King and you live in the fullness of that identity.
I could sit here and write about all things you’ve done for me and continue to do for me, but I think it’s far more important to acknowledge what you do for the Kingdom and what you do for the Glory of the Lord. You have left a spiritual inheritance that will follow me for the rest of my life and continue to pass through generations to come.
I love you so dearly, mom.
-xoxo
jess (muzz) 😉
