Last minute route change to Macedonia instead of Albania for Team Geronima! We endured a transatlantic flight to Istanbul, Turkey and then bopped over to Tirana, Albania (for approximately 12 hours, most of which were spent in a park) before the 7-hour bus ride to Skopje. So we’re already #12n11=winning.
En route, I was already feeling a twinge of conviction about…conviction, if you can imagine that. The thing is, I really come alive in the middle of the Lord shining light into the dark spots of my lightly-seasoned ticker. Maybe you’re disappointed this process started before arrival- that my first story isn’t one of miraculous healings and revivals. Remember that story when Jesus brings the dead girl back to life, afterward saying, “Tell no one.” He’s subtle like that.
Somewhere over the Atlantic He asked me, “Would we still be friends if there wasn’t any of that self-growth/heart-nudging action you so love? Do you enjoy simply being in my presence?” Ouch. I wish I could say “Yes! I just want to sit at your feet.” But there’s part of me that snaps back, “Maybe not. What would be the point?” Oh, it pains me to admit that to such a vast public audience.
He continued, “What if your Race experience is about your&my relationship instead of the addictive rush of self discovery? We can go deeper into the stuff we’ve already started instead of new material.”
At first I writhed- like I was being stripped of my identity (Conviction Addicts Anonymous should be a real thing). And then I questioned hearing Him so explicitly. If it comes to pass, then we’ll know. I’m willing to risk that I heard wrong.
And now I’m at peace with that idea. I feel lighter- relieved even. And who are we kidding? There’s plenty of “material” to work with this year without stirring up new sediment. I’ve been in chains- hyperaware of my shortcomings and sinful nature. But that’s not what the cross is about. He didn’t die so I could keep dragging around this baggage (ha! Baggage for a Racer is such a real struggle. Not me. 35 pounds baby!). I keep praying to go deeper with Him, to feel His presence. What if I actually carve out the time to experience it?
Part of me has a hard time believing there isn’t new junk that will surface this year (hello community living). In reality, pride is already the root of so much sin and is an ongoing lifelong project. So maybe it will simply encompass the upcoming rough spots.
He’s here in Macedonia, for all of it. For the growing brushfire that stopped along our ministry’s property line. For the much-needed gigantic pot with which to cook lots of pasta (no really, where did it come from? It just showed up on the counter after we realized we lacked necessary cookware). For the Christian-girl trades Muslim-guy a pillow for a box of dates in the Istanbul airport.
It’s a lighthearted and surprisingly fun way to start out the Race.
