God,
I am on this race. I’ve been here for over eight months. I’ve given up a lot of myself. I’ve given up a lot, somethings I never thought I would let go of, somethings I didn’t want to let go of: friends, family, relationships, mindsets, familiarity, future. I chose to walk in abandon, away from comfort: physical, emotional, spiritual. I chose to acknowledge the brokenness I have in my life, and ask “God, will you help me?”
I have sacrificed to be here. I still sacrifice to be here. I am living in a constant state of expectancy and waiting on you, lord. I live in a constant state of asking you to grow me, stretch me, use me, even though it hurts and I might not like it in the moment. I know you will show up, whenever I ask. I have tasted and seen your love and goodness in more ways than ever before, more than I ever thought I could. I know you more than ever before. This time together has been incredibly sweet, God, I am so grateful.
I have seen the world, not all of it, not even close, but I have been blessed to see things that most people never will. And because I’ve seen these parts of the world, my world at home or wherever I go, will never be the same. Not because I have seen poverty or because I’m now, oh so cultured. God no, I seriously have been amazed by your creation and seeing your creation all over this planet, both people and places. Now, I can never look at anything else the same. I have enjoyed getting to meet people who are entirely different and completely similar to me, at the same time. To be submerged in cultures and learn and experience what they value most in life.
God, you’ve grown my heart. I asked you to, and you said “Of course, daughter.” You’ve taken my heart and breathed life into it. You’ve taken a life that was content and put a holy discontentment inside of me. Thank you. I never want to be content in the world again. I praise you for that.
God you’re good. I can think back over months and months, read through pages and pages of my writing and Lord, wow. Who was I before this race? Who did I think you were before this race? To have experienced you in this way, here, what was I doing with my time before? You have changed me, God. When I open my hands and my plans to you, I’ve never been disappointed. I’ve never questioned that your way is better than my way, but I have been impatient and questioned your timing. And even then, you are growing me in this, now.
You have released me from believing lies. So many lies, lord, about myself, about you, about this world, about others. And I feel so much lighter. I have learned lessons, not just heard lessons. I’ve experienced the truth of what you say about my pain, my struggle, and this world. And I can’t accurately sum up all the things I’ve learned in a few short sentences, but God, I can’t wait to share everything with anyone who will listen when I get home.
And amidst all of this, I am aware that there is so much more. I have not scratched the surface of you, or what this life is about, I’ve only barely grazed the top layer, touched it with my fingertips and made distinct contact. I intend to spend the rest of my life devoted to digging below the surface to the very center of who you are. I have all the time in the world.
But here’s the thing: I have four weeks left here.
Somedays, that feels like eternity, and somedays that feels like I’ll be home tomorrow. Truthfully, I don’t know exactly how I feel about going home, though I will say that home, used to be this magical place, an oasis, we always talked about as racers, a light at the end of a tunnel on hard days. And as we come closer to going home, home has become more and more of a brutal reality. That’s a topic for another time.
At the beginning of this letter, I expressed what these months have been like for me personally, concerning my intimacy with you, lord. It has been challenging, effortless, lovely, expansive, expectant, hard, horrible, wonderful, painful, bliss, old, new, lonely, full, beautiful, worth it. Every time I think back, I know, you are worth it. Where would I be without this year?
But God, I am so tired. My flesh wants to live in contentment for these next four weeks. I want to stop asking you to stretch me. To stop breaking my heart. To give me a small breather. And my most selfish parts of who I am ask “Haven’t I learned enough yet? Look how far I’ve come. Would it be so wrong to just breathe and enjoy, instead of searching for more of you, and losing more of myself?” I don’t like that this is true about where my heart is. I have a large part of myself that knows these questions come from my weakness, but it’s there. I don’t want to keep striving, to have to deal with insecurities, hurt, and weakness. I don’t want to have to do hard things, because hard things are hard. And in my heart of hearts, I want these four weeks to fly by, simply because I don’t want to handle these hard things anymore.
The other day I read the first blog I wrote on the race, and I said something that caught my eye, “I am not sprinting toward a finish line or trying to “save the world”. I am walking, slow and steady, in step with my father, and that is how I want to finish my race.”
Okay, God, I get it. I was reminded, by my past self, that I am not running a race for the sake of a time, or to “save the world”, or “save myself”, or for the sake of a finish line. I don’t want to sprint, maybe I have been, and that’s why I have been so tired lately. God, what a sweet prayer, to simply walk everyday life next to you, not striving, or searching, just simply walking, being, living. You take my hand and walk me through the hard things, I don’t have to fight, I don’t have to strive. I can do four more weeks of that. I can do four weeks of walking next to you. I can do a whole lifetime, knowing I’m just walking next to you. No sprinting, no striving. Slow and steady still wins the race. Slow and steady will win this race. Thank you lord.
This is a jumble, unedited and straight from my head and heart. I didn’t think I would post it, but the Lord asked me, “don’t you think I can use this, too?” Something I have been learning lately is if you’re learning, you should be sharing. Even if it falls flat, God didn’t give us the gifts of learning and knowledge to simply keep them to ourselves. Like all the best gifts, they are meant to be shared. I hope you enjoyed the thoughts, thank you for reading, thank you for prayers. I want yall to know it really means more than you’ll know to see people reading and commenting. It is a huge encouragement. Only a few blogs away from being home and sad that I want get to communicate in this way after the race. If you ever have questions about me, what I am doing, or just want to chat, or would like to meet up after the race, please do not to hesitate to email or text me. Seriously.
[email protected] 281-898-1374
Much love for you all,
Kara
