Four months ago, during debrief at the end of my fourth month on the Race, I was asked to step up as a team leader. The thoughts and feelings following the question overwhelmed me.
No, I thought. I’m not a leader.
I was asked to take two days and pray about it. For the first 24 hours I just questioned why God would choose me. I had spent four months growing so deep with Him and couldn’t understand why He would want to change things up. But for the next 24 hours, I really sat with Him. I prayed, and then I listened and listened and listened.
“Daughter, rest in me,” He said. “I am filling you with peace. I know you just want to do the right thing, but stop thinking. Just close your eyes and breathe me in. You see, I’ve been preparing you for this day since way before you imagined. I taught you how to breathe me in during the first month of this journey. Breathe in the life I’m giving you. Breathe in my peace. Quiet your Spirit and listen. You see that ant crawling at your feet? Think about that one, single ant. It is scientifically incapable of doing the things it does. The things it carries on its back should crush it as it’s much heavier than it is — but it doesn’t. And you know why? Because I’ve created it to do so. That ant doesn’t worry about its provision because I provide for it. I have given it an abundant amount of strength, and each day I give it more. It doesn’t question where its strength is coming from and how it will regain it once it’s empty and tired because it trusts in its Creation. Trust your Creator. Trust me. I am your provision. I have always provided and I always will. You will never be empty. I will give you strength and renew it each day. Now, breathe again. Feel my presence. I am within you. Receive my peace.”
I fought Him until the minute before I had to give my squad leaders my decision.
Okay, Jesus. You know what’s best for me. I’ll say yes.
And that was that. I agreed to leading a team of five other beautiful women for however long God asked me to.
If I’m being completely honest, the last four months have been four of the most difficult months I’ve had since I was living in darkness years ago. I experienced a flashback of what it was like to be depressed, realized how much ugliness I really possess, received some of the hardest feedback I’ve ever received, faced tough relationships head on, isolated myself because I didn’t communicate my needs, accepted that I’m actually a conditional lover and failed, failed, failed and failed more.
Turns out leadership is no walk in the park. But, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t push me into growth of who I am as a woman of God. Through leading, my Father opened my eyes to see areas He’s wanted me to seek Him in for way too long.
Dependence. Patience. Self-control. Love. Honor. Communication. Positivity. Strength.
As I experienced a lack in all of these things, Papa constantly reminded me I was seeking renewal from the wrong places. I was full of anxiety about how I was to be replenished and poured into instead of completely depending on Him.
On January 3rd I began a 21-day liquid fast. I can honestly say it was physically and mentally the most difficult three consecutive weeks of my entire life. I was hungry. I was tired. I was weak. I was sluggish. I was dizzy. But Jesus showed me the hunger wasn’t for food — food was only a desire, not a need. The hunger was for more of Him.
So I dove in deep waters and experienced a dependency and intimacy I had never imagined existed. And each day as I struggled to concentrate or read long passages, He gave me the desire to read more. He gave me the endurance to fight the headaches, the stomachaches, the lies, and the desire to give up. I basked in His overwhelming presence. It ended up being three of the most rewarding and beautiful weeks of life as I knew it.
During the fast, I sought the Lord out for direction in leadership. I wasn’t confident in how I had been leading and knew it would be easier to throw in the towel. But on my way to debrief at the end of month seven, He told me it wasn’t time.
“I have more,” He said.
I didn’t know what He meant, but I pressed in and agreed to keep going. Month eight began, and I had high hopes for what was going to happen within my team. We decided to read Keep Your Love On by Danny Silk together and discussed it chapter by chapter. I experienced the Lord’s faithfulness through it and was able to get to know my teammates in deeper levels of intimacy.
We spent a month being loved and loving on 46 of the most incredible people I’ve ever met — 40 little girls, 4 spectacular women and a married couple, all who literally leak Jesus’ love. I couldn’t have imagined a better ministry with whom to spend my last month in Asia. But even there, out in the countryside, lying underneath the stars, I didn’t have peace.
“What am I supposed to do, Lord?” I asked Him often. Weeks went by with no clarity.
“You’re where you need to be,” He’d say.
But then I reached it — the point where I feared what I thought was best.
I no longer feared leading. I’d done it — I’d failed at it — but I’d done it. I knew I could keep going. I knew my mind was strong enough to do even things I didn’t set it to do.
I feared stepping down. I feared what effect it would have on my teammates and my squad. The possibilities of what could’ve happened solely from my decision were endless. And like most things, I carried the weight of how everyone else would feel. I didn’t want to cause team changes when the majority of the teams were very happy exactly how they were.
On our third weekend in Thailand, our host took us to a Hill Tribe Village. While we were there we got to go to a waterfall and relax. My teammates were climbing rocks and walking through the water, the girls were splashing and carrying on, but I just sat with Papa on a little rock in the middle of the small pool of water. As I sat, I wrote a prayer seeking the Lord for peace. Almost immediately, He filled me with it.
“Why do I feel this way?” I asked Papa.
I truly couldn’t recognize the feelings I was experiencing. My mind was quiet, my spirit was calm. There weren’t thoughts concerning my team, my well being or the question of whether or not I should keep leading.
“You are free,” He said. I didn’t understand.
“Free from what?”
“You are free,” He repeated.
It was in that exact moment I knew the time had come to an end.
The next morning, the Lord reaffirmed what I was feeling as I shared my testimony in church. I had only shared it once in the last four months and that was only with my teammates. As it always is, it was incredibly freeing to speak out the truth.
Freedom, He reminded me, is what I’ve given you.
Freedom to be me.
I’m not sure where I’d lost grip of it, but I had. I’d fallen into the trenches and gotten too deep to climb out myself, but He knew I would all along. He allowed it to happen so I’d seek Him for rescue. And while I was lugging around through the mud, He revealed truth I’ve always struggled to believe — I am a leader. But more than that — I don’t need a title to be one.
I can’t accurately portray how much weight I felt lifted when I shared my decision to step down with my mentor the following night. It was as if Jesus walked up behind me and picked up all of the things weighing me down, quieting my voice and binding my Spirit.
“You are free,” He said again.
I laid on my back in a gravel driveway, shivered in the crisp mountain air, mind in awe of the Sky as I admired Orion’s Belt and allowed Papa’s freedom to consume me.
“I feel it,” I told Him. “I am free in you.”
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:29-30
