I’ve spent the past four years watching other racers. Four years looking at routes, following blogs, wishfully imagining what it would be like to be a racer, and giving to racers when I could – even though it never was very much. (Especially relative to the massive sum $16,000 seems.) I always gave anonymously. There’s something delightfully sneaky about making someone’s day and not being able to get the credit for it. It’s almost more fulfilling that way. One thing I never imagined was what it would be like to be on the receiving end of an anonymous donation. Well, today I found out.
Logging in yesterday I found $100 in my fundraising account with the name “anonymous.” I was blown away… I didn’t even know how to respond. $100 is so much money, and someone whom I either didn’t know or just wanted to bless me gave without receiving any credit for it. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. I immediately started thinking of all the possible people it could have been, realizing I’d probably never figure it out and having no idea how to thank them. I wanted to write this yesterday, but I learned this morning why the words wouldn’t come.
Once a blog stalker, always a blog stalker. Guilty as charged. The blogs of racers from all squads have been part of my devotions in the morning for months. Their attentiveness to the Holy Spirit is something I yearn to have, and seeing how the Lord leads them and the journeys they go through help prepare my heart for this journey. I found a blog this morning about a girl on the Race currently who feels called to the next step I think the Lord is leading me to after the Race; Adventures in Missions’ apprenticeship program called CGA – or Center for Global Action. I read her blog about the struggles God took her through to get her there and her step of faith in applying. When you are accepted to a new Adventures in Missions program, your fundraising bar is reset to zero. She had zero in her account.
I’ve now become aware of what it’s like to check your fundraising account multiple times a day “just to see” if something else has popped up because the donations take 3-4 days to process. I know God has this so I know He will fund it, but it’s hard to look at that tiny little bit of green in that long bar day after day and keep the same amount of hope that He will provide. My heart stirred and I gave to this racer’s account – anonymously. It was tiny, it was so tiny, but the minute I did I was filled with such joy. There is unbelievable joy of being able to be a tiny piece to be used in the puzzle of what the Lord is doing in someone else’s life – and it means that much more when you know what it feels like on the receiving end. It made me appreciate a hundred times more what that wonderful anonymous human being did for me, and I couldn’t have possibly appreciated it as much without being reminded of the joy that comes from being used by God.
So here are my thoughts to the wonderful person that taught me so much this week:
Dear Anonymous:
I wish I could thank you. I wish I knew who you were so I could write you a letter, mail you a t-shirt or bring you back something from my trip, and pray for you. I know you don’t want the credit, but thank you. Thank you for your generosity and selfless heart. Thank you for what you taught me about joyful giving. Thank you for bringing me closer to God by reminding me so overwhelmingly that HE has this in His hands and there is no way I could fight, stress, plan, or work my way into the provision He has for me. Thank you for inspiring in my heart what it means to be a blessing to others, and for reminding me that I am blessed to be a blessing. Thank you for being patient with me as it took me a full 24 hours to understand and appreciate the beautiful gift you gave me in learning how to receive – and how to give. Thank you for playing a part in helping restore the joy of giving, and thank you for being a part of my story. I know God has great plans to use these open hands of mine to touch people and make a difference and I couldn’t do that without you. Thank you for being just as much a part of that work as I am.
His,
Meredith
