Seven weeks after being off of the international mission field, I find myself back with my incredible community of World Racers. I came to Project Searchlight expecting a launching pad for what’s next, to kickstart the time and to answer that looming question “what are you doing after the Race?”
Unlike many, I came to PSL knowing exactly what I’m supposed to do next. Go back home. God called me in month 9 to move back to my hometown after the Race. For a while I put up a good fight, but in time, I relented. Why I ever thought I had more stamina than him I have no idea. How can you expect to win in the ring when you’re up against Rocky, am I right?
This week I’ve sat in sessions and breakouts all giving information on life-altering radical opportunities, quite like the Race was for us. And although I already know I’m called home, that adventurer in me screams “God this is what I want to do.” Yet, that still small voice inside says “be still my child. I have you right where I want you.” So what do I do? I whine and complain of course. Why do they get to go and I must stay?
Next, I come to the conclusion that if I can’t go now, I can at least browse ideas for what’s next. I start putting end dates on the season that I’m currently in and focusing on what God wants me to do next. And I let it rob my peace. Anxiety begins taking over and now I’ve moved from a place of relenting to a place of striving. For how quickly I forget my Father has said to be still my child. Do I believe that God can open my mind to opportunities down the road to prepare me for what’s next? Oh yeah. Do I believe He wants that to rob me of my peace? Absolutely not.
For He says “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid,” John 14:27.
I’ve learned a lot from the array of zealous speakers that have been here this week. But the talk that moved me most was titled “hearing God’s voice in times of training” by Ashlynn Horne. She talked about her time in Galilee, and how surprisingly boring it was being there. She related it to how sometimes directly after a season of breathtaking beauty, we end in a place that seems it holds nothing there. Yet, God convicted her of her complaining because it is home.
Galilee represents our ordinary. Racers get the stereotype for being adrenaline junkies and epic life chasers. That’s because we are. We’re all chasing the “more” in life. More than the 9-5. More than the surface level friendships. More than consumerism Christianity. The thing is, these are all admirable things to chase after for He “is able to do immeasurably more than all we can ask, think or imagine,” Ephesians 3:20.
But where we get tripped up is in the way we believe He must do it. He doesn’t need us to start a church plant, travel the world, or work for a missions agency to be able to do immeasurably more. What He needs is our praise, our humility, our obedience.
I get so caught up in being ready for my crazy epic life to start now. In my mind, the World Race was the start. Now, I don’t want to lose traction. But God says the day that I committed to following Him, is the day my crazy epic life started. Although many years haven’t felt like it, and moving back home doesn’t feel like it, He reminds me of the time it takes to weave thread into a cross-stitched picture. In my “ordinary” life, He has extraordinary waiting for me. He has extraordinary waiting for you. There are extraordinary opportunities in our ordinary that we pass up everyday: from serving in your church, volunteering at a soup kitchen or homeless shelter, meeting the needs of the broken around you, discipling those near you, to loving those with you. It’s about learning to actively wait in the seasons of Galilee.
So often I’m in the field plucking the crops before they’re even ready for harvest. I want to skip right over the season of planting, watering, weeding, and waiting. I’m ready to get there. I’m ready to be living a life of ministry, writing a book, traveling the world, discipling many, and preaching in front of crowds. Yet, I don’t want to wait.
We forget the fact that 90% of Christ’s time on earth was in living an ordinary life. He only lived 33 years on this earth, and for 30 of those years He was a carpenter’s apprentice. He worked for his dad for THIRTY YEARS because His time had not come.
I’m 23 years old and I am terrified if I don’t reach a crazy epic life by the time I get married or have kids, then I can never have it. But the truth I’ve learned this week is I HAVE TIME. We have time.
This is my time of Galilee, and I’m going to treasure it.
In this season, I must move my eyes from plans to promises, from asking God what He will do for me to how I can be with Him.
“The most difficult time of your life may the border to your promised land.”
-Christine Caine
