There’s a pretty well-known verse in the Bible that talks about the way that God promises to provide for His people. Maybe you know it:
“So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”
For this one verse, though, I actually prefer the Message version (stay with me here!) because I can hear Jesus’s voice better in the phrasing. It goes like this:
“What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works.
Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.
Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.”
Our coaches and mentors told us before we left for the Race that most people experience 5 years-worth of spiritual and mental growth in the 11 months that you’re away – and I believe them now.
Being on the World Race offers you approximately 57 opportunities a day to freak the heck out, because you are not in control. Travel days are especiallygood for this. I said to a squad-mate this morning as we were walking in the rain with all our gear on our backs, “There are SO many things I want to know right now. Where are we? Where are we going? Is this going to be a longer walk, or a shorter one? Do we get money for breakfast today? Will this rain go on all day? But I know the answer to all of them will be “I don’t know”, so I’m going to be alright with not asking.”
You might not always have a bed. You might not always get breakfast. You might walk a long time with a lot of weight on your back in the rain and you might spend hours upon hours in the in-between places – the airports, the bus stations, the ferry ports, and under overhangs.
There is one thing, though, that I am always certain of.
And it’s that God is good.
Here’s how I know.
First of all: in case you missed it, I am no longer in Albania. Y-Squad was called from Albania early this week when requests for immediate help came into the main office, asking for people to come and assist in refugee work on the Greek island of Lesvos. We packed up the things we had just unloaded, got onto a bus, and left the country two days ago.
On our ferry ride from Athens to Lesvos last night, we all boarded the ship and discovered that not only did we have beds to sleep on – we had hot showers, towels, and the option to buy good food. I got changed and went up to the top deck of the ship, where some squad-mates and I purchased a bottle of red wine and gathered outside to watch the ship leave port.
By the time we started moving away from land, the sky was a deep, dark blue, and the lights from buildings along the coast shimmered like gold on the water. Several of us girls sat down and dangled our legs from between the railing bars, watching the ocean churn white hundreds of feet below us, the plastic cups of wine swirling gently. And as the spray from the ocean turned our lips and hair salty, we started thanking God for all of the good things we could see.
“Thank you for clean air!”
“Thank you for this ship!”
“Thank you for the ocean!”
And then my friend Kris said something I’ll never forget.
“This is the best night of my life, but it won’t be the best night of my life.”
I sat back on my hands and just breathed for a few moments.
The best things are yet to come. I don’t need to be afraid, and I don’t need to worry about there being enough. I am being provided for. I am safe.
I was walking on water. I am walking on water – no, seriously.
That song, Oceans, that we sing in church services all the time? “You called me out upon the water, the Great Unknown, where feet may fail?” I am walking on my ocean right now.
This, this World Race, is the “thing” that I’ve been praying for my entire life, my chance to serve God with abandon, and to be in a position where the simplest things like food and rest are simply beyond my control. And I’m giving myself over to the control of my Jesus, trusting that through the leadership of my leaders and mentors, I’ll be taken care of.
So here I sit, on the couch at our temporary residence on the coast of Lesvos, ready and waiting to meet up with Euro Relief and Samaritan’s Purse to go love on and serve thousands of refugees currently fleeing across the Aegean Sea.
I have no idea exactly where I am, no idea what the plan is, where I’ll be going, or what I’ll be doing – but God does.
The World Race is my ocean.
And I’m stepping out.
