Packing for a year is hard.
Because I’m not actually packing for a year abroad. Well, not for a “normal” year, anyway, where I can live in the lifestyle to which I’ve grown accustomed. I’m packing just the essentials, and then trusting, recklessly trusting, that God is going to provide exactly what I need, when I need it.
(Even though I really really want to take that extra shirt because maybe in Albania I’m gonna need something warmer, and maybe this is my only chance to take it. Even though I want to take a massive pack of extra fiber pills, I’m gonna trust that my stomach is gonna work itself out all right. Even though I want to upload a bunch of movies onto my hard drive for flights. I’m trusting that things will be okay if I forget stuff, because really it doesn’t all depend on me.)
I thought I was fully surrendered, at peace, and really ready to go.
But then packing— the last thing I’d been actively avoiding— came and smacked me right in the face.
“Oh, you need an extra tube of mascara? Really? Or do you need to figure out where your sleeping pad is gonna fit in your pack and maybe not worry about the constant entertainment at your fingertips that you think you need to keep you occupied and content?”
OK, yeah. So packing is harder than I thought.
Anybody seen the movie Instructions Not Included? (No se aceptan devoluciones)?
Side note: if you haven’t seen it, you totally should because it’s the perfect mix of comedy, drama, and beauty. And it’s on Netflix. So good.
The main character, a playboy, ends up with he didn’t even know he had. Ever since he was little, his dad tried to cure his fears by making him do the things he was afraid of… (I think they call it immersion therapy.) So when he was afraid of heights, his dad made him jump from a really high cliff into the ocean. The guy always pictures these snarling wolves pacing below him, waiting to devour him— the wolves that represent his fear.
Here’s a quick clip from the movie.
So when this playboy gets handed a baby to raise, he sees the old wolves of fear all over the place. He’s terrified. And in order to take care of this baby, he takes a job as a stuntman— ALWAYS doing terrifying things, jumping from dizzying heights. So he ends up facing the wolves every day.
They never go away.
He breathes, “Shaa. Shaa. Shaa.” And then he jumps.
The World Race is just like that. I’ve already faced a lot of wolves, and been able to jump. And I’m gonna face a lot more this year. This week, I see them in my packing process, ready to devour my peace, joy, and excitement.
So today, and every day I see those wolves waiting for me this year, I’m going to stare at their big, hairy, growling faces, and breathe…“Shaa. Shaa. Shaa.”
And then I’m gonna jump.
