Well, I’m about halfway through this World Race thing. I can honestly say it feels both nothing and everything like I expected.
If you would’ve tried to explain to me what these past 5+ months would be like (and, I assure you, people did try) it would’ve made very little sense to me. If I’ve learned anything on this journey so far, it’s this life is unlike anything I’ve done before.
And it is hard. I mean like finding-a-needle -in-a-haystack-with-the-lights-off hard. Every aspect of this life requires effort. It requires intentionality. It requires a constant denial of self. You cry often. You have to stop to count to 10 even more. And every morning you wake up,waiting a moment for your brain to catch up to your body, and make the choice to do it all over again.
That is, if you’re doing it right.
You see, over the last month I’ve had moments of doubt. Moments where I considered taking the easy way out…Do I really need to apologize for that one harsh comment? Do I really have to get up 20 minutes earlier so that my teammates have better access to the bathroom? Are you sure that this whole feedback thing is really helpful? What if I don’t feel like riding on the crowded, hot bus to ministry again today?
I daydream about home and how much less complicated everything is there, how much more comfortable. My time is my own, my bed never changes and the mistakes I make affect far fewer people.
This month has brought with it a lot of old insecurities. I’ve gone back to judging my worth based on the affirmation of others. I’ve worried I’m incompetent as a leader, useless as a teammate. What could I possibly have to offer to a team of 5 other amazing women of God, all far more talented and selfless than I am?
Then recently our housemates (the YWAM Chico team) gave each of us a “prophetic taco.” On this folded piece of construction paper were words and verses the Lord gave them for each of us. I opened mine to reveal a whole lot about trusting in the path God has put me on and in the tools He has given me to succeed. Crazy how He uses a group of near-strangers to get a point across, huh?
Life on the Race IS hard. It IS exhausting. It requires a moment-by-moment decision to opt in, to be willing. It’s painful, it’s heartbreaking, and it’s a constant reminder of my own flawed humanity.
And I would choose it all over again in a heartbeat.
So, as I sit here with tears in my tired eyes, listening to the harmony of soulful ballads on the boombox and children screaming on the sidewalk, I can’t help but smile. Because I’m thinking about the chance to do it all again for the next 5 months. And of all of the other crazy people who are making the same choice.
