“I’m going to be honest with you. When you commit to the Race, your life is going to snowball.”
My friend Sam Farmer, a World Race Gap Year alumni, told me this months ago. I called her on a bench outside FSCJ while I waited for my brother David to pick me up and take me to church. At this point in time, I knew what God wanted me to do. But I also knew what I wanted to do.
I wanted to be sturdy. I wanted to do bold things for Jesus, but under my conditions. I wanted to stay where I was familiar, and surrounded by things I found familiar.
But ultimately, I decided I wanted Jesus’ will for me more.
And so the snowball began.
David was the first person I told. He dropped me off at Redeemer, and with a heaviness I didn’t know I was capable of feeling, I told my friend Emma. I let the youth leaders know I needed to make an announcement at the end of youth group. A few minutes after sitting through the talk of that night, I couldn’t take it. I followed my feet out of the room, out the door of the church, and down the parking lot to where I was out of sight. I sat down and leaned against a tree and cried harder than I ever have in my life.
I wanted to take it back. I still had a chance to back out. Was I really about to subject myself to this loneliness and hurt?
I prayed. One of those really gross ugly-cry prayers. Because yes, I was.
In order to experience more of Jesus, I was going to have to make room for Him in my heart. Parts of me had to go.
I prayed until I realized I should return before the talk was over. I entered, marveling at how normal the night seemed to be going for everyone else. I announced my trip to the youth group, and let myself cry as they prayed over me.
I tell you this slightly depressing story because in order to understand and appreciate the joy and goodness of God, for me, I have to understand and appreciate what He has brought me through, or what He’s teaching me through current hurts.
Since my commitment to the Race I’ve had more moments that felt like I was losing a piece of me.
When I couldn’t finish the hike on my first try, and sat alone outside the pavilion until my trainer sat with me and I stared right through her, unsure how to say that I just couldn’t do it. When I began to name off the holidays and birthdays and events I am going to miss. When I toted children around the lake at Camp Araminta, amazed at how weightless they seemed in my arms, and noticing how heavy my heart felt. When a camper of mine rested her head in my lap and said through tears, “I don’t want you to leave.”
It really freaking sucks sometimes. After Araminta, I talked with my friend Sam again, and she said, “It feels like you’re dying, doesn’t it?”
For the first time, I was able to pinpoint my emotions about the Race. Because she was right; I felt like I was dying.
I would see life in America carry on without me. I would have to let go of everyday comforts and objects I hold dear. I would have to leave my friends back at home at such an important transition time.
But praise God, the concept of dying-to-self is a thing in the Bible.
Galatians 2:20 – I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.
Like 9:23 – And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.”
Mark 8:35 – For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel’s will save it.
Colossians 3:3 – For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.
And one of my all time favorites..
Philippians 1:21 – For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.
After spending the past few weeks contemplating what a life dying to myself looks like, I look forward to it. Because the more Rachel decreases, the more room for Jesus to increase. Never once has it been or will it be about me. When it feels like I’m dying, there’s peace knowing it’s all for Him and His glory. And although it’s hard to let go of control and comfort at times, His Kingdom is more than worth it.
Please keep my squad and I in your prayers as we head to launch in ONE week. Pray for protection and preparation and provision, and if you are able, please consider donating (instructions to mail a check are beyond the donate button as well) and help me raise the final $3,645 I need to be FULLY funded. It would mean the world to me to be fully funded before I leave, and any amount helps!
Also, please please please subscribe here to get an email every time I write a new blog post. Thank you all for going on this journey with me.
I love you all, and keep the faith.
Here’s one of my favorite quotes from The Hobbit:
“You will have to do without pocket handkerchiefs, and a great many other things, before we reach our journey’s end, Bilbo Baggins. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire, but home is now behind you. The world is ahead.” – Gandalf
