I wanted to travel; you know, to all the sparkling, faraway beautiful places, the ones you see in those travel blogger’s instagrams. To all those places where I could “find myself” before committing to a 9-5. Maybe do some yoga on an exotic beach, work an odd job here or there, and just have complete freedom in doing whatever I wanted to do.
But it seemed that God had other plans for me. Plans for his kingdom. Plans that starting this week are landing me smack dab in the middle of southern India, quite far from the likelihood of seeing the Taj Mahal, or some Bollywood in Mumbai. Instead I’ll be living on around $2 a day and working in the midst of dark injustices and poverty.
When I tell people I am about to leave for the World Race they usually have a lot of questions, but one in particular always comes up: “Why did you decide to do this?” I’ve asked myself that question several times in the past week as I attempted to consolidate my belongings for the next year into a bag weighing no more than 40 pounds. I asked that the past few days as I said some hard goodbyes to amazing friends and family. I asked that tonight as I took what could be my last shower with decent water pressure, and I ask that now as I lay in my ever so comfortable bed that I am trading shortly for a tent and a sleeping bag.
But then I hear the small still voice that always creeps back in.
Remember when you prayed for the things you have now.
Last summer, as I only just began to fall in love with Jesus in a way that I didn’t even know was possible, mission work was the furthest thing from my post-grad agenda. I actually took the liberty to apply for yoga training in Thailand that I planned to be doing right about now. Safe to say that $75 deposit went down the drain.
I was living in Atlanta working a summer internship and began to wrestle with the idea of mission work. I felt huge tugs at my heart every time I was faced with the conversations of sacrifice and going to the nations. I begin to visualize what it would look like to ditch my personal plans and instead use my time to bring love and hope to others. After several conversations with friends, and many nights of prayer I knew this was no joke. It was quite simple. This was what the Lord wanted me to do.
So naturally, I started to make excuses. “But I am hardly qualified..” and “My friends will think I’m crazy..” and “There is no way I could fundraise, I hate asking people for money..” essentially I whipped out every excuse in the book.
But, like I said, it seemed God had other plans.
He started first with introducing me to the World Race while I was sitting at my desk at work (not working) deep in the depths of Facebook.
This radical crazy adventure I was reading about had all my passions wrapped into one, I couldn’t take my eyes away from all the blogs… but I still was not convinced. I knew it wouldn’t be right to apply for something this insane just because I thought it was cool.
So I prayed. And I waited.
Then about a week later he had me sit by a stranger at church one Sunday who proceeded to invite me to coffee. It was my last week living in Atlanta and I was hardly on the hunt for new friends. But for some odd reason I went. When I told her I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with my future, she responded, totally unprovoked—“You should do the World Race, you reminded me of my best friend who did it, I’ll connect you guys!”
I never have been one to believe in coincidence so I soaked in the craziness of this coffee date with a stranger. But I still held onto my fears and my doubts. I left the coffee date promising myself I would look further into it.
So I prayed. And I waited.
After returning home from Atlanta I finally found the courage to tell my sister I had decided to not accept any offers from advertising agencies and I was thinking about taking a year to do mission work. Once again, totally unprovoked she said—you should look at this thing I found on Instagram called The World Race, it is so you!
I almost swerved off the road. But– stubborn me.. I was still not ready to accept defeat. Was there a swarm of people out there plotting to just get me to apply for this crazy thing!?
And still to my disbelief, it didn’t stop there. A month into school I went to dinner with some friends and we were having the classic senior year conversation of what we were planning to do with our futures. I didn’t want to get too into my own conflicted mess so I simply said haphazardly—“I’m thinking about going to work for a non-profit, maybe traveling.” The next morning I received this text message.
At this point the Lord had gotten my full attention.
So I prayed. I stopped waiting. I skipped class and I started my application.
Now I sit here a year later. Past the lengthy application, past the rounds of essays, past the interviews, past the insane 2 weeks of training, past the fundraising deadlines…with my bags packed, my flights booked, and my goodbye hugs given.
I sit here in the midst of all the uncertainty and I hear the still small whisper telling me:
Remember when you prayed for the things you have now.
