“You are standing in the dark outside of a fortress. The guards on the towers are shooting flaming arrows at you. But you are so emotionally vulnerable you are not doing a single thing to stop them. You are just standing there letting them hit you with every arrow.”
Sounds morbid, right? Unfortunately that pretty accurately sums up my month in Colombia.
When I found freedom in Swaziland, I thought everything would be grand for forever; I never realized my freedom could be tested. Boy was I wrong about this one! This last month in Colombia, without me realizing, the devil used every bit of ammo he had against me.
Two arrows with past insecurities written all over it, one for feeling unheard and one for feeling not valued. He shot an arrow just for homesickness, and another arrow for ministry I did not particularly enjoy. He shot an arrow for taking away my own space, and another arrow for a constantly changing schedule. He shot an arrow and forced me to endure my first migraine since high school, and another arrow drowning me in an on and off depression state. However, the hardest arrow was the one taking away my introvert time which led me to be constantly drained of energy all month. He used absolutely every piece of ammo he had.
For the first two weeks, I let circumstances affect my attitude and blamed everything on not enough introvert time. I did not understand what was happening or why everything I felt seemed far too exaggerated. What I did understand was how much I hated everything about the Race, how constantly irritated I was with my team, and how much I just wanted to go home.
I chose to not complain. I chose to leave my team out of everything. I chose to revert back to old habits of too much time on wifi, spending downtime in bed with headphones in, ignoring everyone when I could get away with it, and asking far too many questions. Instead of choosing my team or ministry, I was selfish and I chose myself over and over again.
On our last Saturday in Bogota, I was on the verge of a mental breakdown. I was seeking out any little bit of control I could grasp, but the control felt like smoke and my fingers could not grasp it. I was completely spiraling out of control in my attempts to gain control. I spent the entire day trying not to cry. I was ready to call my mom and have her change my flight. I could not do the Race anymore. I wanted out. I was a ticking time bomb set to explode at any given moment. I chose to reach out to an alum racer whom I trust immensely. Amanda has done the Race, was a raised up squad leader, and then squad led; she just completely understands life on the Race.
Luckily for me, Amanda saved me from the melt down and from exploding. For the first time all month, my feelings were validated by someone who understood my life. Everything I was feeling was okay, it was acceptable. I had a right to feel the way I did. It felt like a breath of fresh air, something I had not had all month. I had been grasping for fresh air and Amanda gave me that. With her outside perspective and so much knowledge of the life of a Racer, she was able to figure out what was happening in my life and give me so much clarity. She spoke deep truth into my life, encouraged me immensely, and gave me back my love and appreciation for life on the Race all in one conversation.
If this had been month two or even month five, I would have immediately given up and flown home. However, eight months into the Race, my roots in the Lord run deep so I pushed through.
