Greetings from continent number three, and month six! I arrived in Albania last weekend dazed and confused after probably the craziest travel days we’ve had yet. We spent two full days traveling from Siem Reap, Cambodia, to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, to Istanbul, Turkey, where only half the squad then made our original flight to Tirana, Albania. While this was still nothing close to our travel from El Salvador to Vietnam, after going through several different time zones and coming from 90 degree weather, to immediately 50 degree weather, jet lag hit my teammates and I harder than ever this past week.
I honestly didn’t know what to expect for Eastern Europe before we arrived. There’s so much excitement in arriving in each new country, another new place I’ve previously only ever dreamed about. God is so good and P squad must be His favorite children because it’s typically in the 50-60’s here in Albania and I haven’t seen a single mosquito in a week now! I legitimately cried tears of joy when we first stepped off the plane and felt the cold air of an arriving European spring.
I’ve been praying for revival going into this month, the halfway point of the race. As I’ve mentioned before in previous posts, I definitely feel the exhaustion you would imagine six months of world travel and mission work feels like. But we’ve also hit the point in the Race where it begins to feel like there is no light at the end of the tunnel, there’s so much happening and changing at home, as well as so much happening and changing in us as Racers, that giving up and going home starts to look more and more appealing. Month six is where the tough get going. Where we’re told to press in to the hard things, into the brokenness, into the questions we don’t want to ask, into the things we don’t want to feel or wrestle with. Dig deep and press into the Lord, the only one who can truly revive and make these remaining five months after bearable and possible.
Throughout our eleven months on the Race, we walk through a spiritual journey, something we call “surrender, brokenness, dependence.” This looks like in the beginning of our journey, in the first few months, surrendering early and surrendering often. Surrendering comfort, security, time, family and friends, our own desires, everything that holds us back and stands in the way of completely giving our lives to and living them for God. Brokenness happens when you give up everything you’ve always depended on and have to sit in the absence of it all. But, through the brokenness, the Lord teaches you true dependence on Him, the way we were always supposed to live. The best illustration I’ve heard of this is in picturing the shape of a heart. Because we’re imperfect humans and there is sin in our imperfect world, we all naturally have holes in our hearts. We fill these holes with everything that makes us feel good. Relationships, substances, distractions, our own selfish desires…anything and everything to fill those holes. Surrendering looks like removing everything you’ve used to temporarily fill those holes. Brokenness looks like sitting in and allowing yourself to fully feel the emptiness and absence of everything that once filled your life. Dependence comes in when we allow God to not only refill those holes, but heal our hearts entirely so that we are restored and made new in His love.
I surrendered a lot in the beginning of the Race, and towards the end of month three and completely hitting in month four, I began to fully feel the brokenness I’ve heard so much about. Now, in month six, I believe I’m still in repair, but in the process of growing into my dependence on the Lord. My current mental and emotional state is anything but perfect, believe me, but I have found a lightness in my spirit again this month, and I’m fully leaning into it. In the interest of vulnerability, I thought I’d share something I wrote last month in the midst of so much heartbreak and brokenness that I couldn’t make sense of. For some reason, I have felt the Lord tell me several times to share this, but I’ve ignored it for fear of exposing words and emotions so raw and straight from my heart.
I’m going to share it anyway:
Early Mourning
I woke up this morning with a heaviness
Unexpected and with no clear origin
I’m looking around me visibly seeing
lightness
and laughter
and joy
Like an actor on stage I play my part
a leading role in “What’s Right,”
earning myself
Queen of the “Should’s”
But I feel nothing.
There is no light here,
I am far from it
a power outage long since forgotten about.
Is it just like they say?
To call on You for help?
There is no answer here, only
tomorrow’s
and change
and newness
like clockwork.
I thrive in the dark,
in the aching I am most at home,
in the broken I am most myself.
There are children on the street dirty and dying.
There are men who numb themselves by using and abusing daughters, sisters, mothers, and friends.
There are people who dream of America,
of the life they could have,
while America builds a fortress
protecting our crumbling insides from the outsiders.
There are men and women murdered for their skin color,
for who they choose to love.
There are children who can’t take the pain
so they take up guns
and take out innocence.
There is death.
There is cancer.
There is darkness.
There is me.
A mere witness.
Watching from the sidelines,
Feeling.
Always feeling.
Not experiencing, yet my faith takes a hit.
I read online about people I’ve never met,
in a place I’ve never been,
facing things I can’t imagine.
My finger raises to the sky
and with tears in my eyes I
scream
and curse
and blame.
“You made this.”
“How is this good?”
“Why aren’t you here?”
My life has been touched by Your goodness
but I meet people everyday who haven’t.
I would give mine up in a heartbeat.
I don’t deserve the
safety
and comfort
and privilege
I’ve been given.
Why was I chosen?
Why my number?
Give it to the masses.
Spread it among the nations.
I don’t want it anymore.
I do not want this mess.
I do not want this world.
I do not want this me.
I want You.
I’m eager to already be the person I believe He’s changing me to be. I can feel it, how much I’ve grown and changed in the last five and a half months, but I can’t quite see it yet. I can’t help but anticipate where I’ll be at the end of this. Going into this month and the second half of the Race, where I’m truly pressing into all He has for me, I’m reminded to not wish away this extraordinary life He’s blessed me with.
Thank you so much to those continually following and supporting my journey!
