When I started the application process (August 2014) to participate in The World Race, I originally set out to leave in January of 2015. With great wisdom, the Race staff delayed my departure until July. A lot of emotional growth has taken place in the months since, and no matter what happens, I’ll always be grateful they suggested this process of healing from some of my pre-God life choices.
The other day my Mama asked me if I would have been ready to leave in January. I promptly said, “No, but I’m not ready now. Nor will I be in 4 months. I’ll never be ‘ready,’ I just have to go.”
I thought this season of healing would be like opening a big, emotional can of worms that would somehow re-can itself and leave a pretty package with a bow on top. That the healing would have a start and finish.
So wrong. So so wrong.
The can of worms is still open, and awfully messy. And there are days where I complain about not seeing my growth, days where I get frustrated with myself. Days where I’m mad at God and disappointed in my circumstances. But in reality, I have grown a ton and am drastically more rooted in my faith. I’m just very impatient. The wormy can is coming with me on the Race, I’ve recently realized. It does for every Racer.
Often, people ask me if I’m excited about the Race (more so now that there are just 4 short months until Launch). Of course I’m excited, but I’m also terrified. In my head (and theirs), it’s glamorized. Playing with orphans and helping victims of sex trafficking sounds so warm and fuzzy. In reality, I’ll be sleeping on the ground in a hut somewhere, eating rice and beans every day, dirty, sweaty, and stuck with the same 6 people. There’s nothing glamorous in that. My parents like to tease me that this summer when they’re laying by the pool sipping lemonade, they’ll pray for me, while I’m off in the trenches somewhere, covered in mosquito bites. Thanks guys.
Fortunately, I won’t be expected to endure the Race on my own strength (I’d never make it past Florida if that were the case!). What a relief to know that while I am ill equipped and unprepared, all I have to do is show up. He’ll do the rest.
