The other day, Austin, Tabs, and I were having a really rough day. There was a lot going on and a lot going wrong. The schedule was incredibly messed up. The host was leaving two days later to go run a parent vision trip in Guatemala. After that, it was up to us to manage this not supposed to be all squad month but let’s call it what it really is, an all squad month. Our third one on the race, far more than any average squad. We’ve spent a lot of time together as a squad and it was wearing on everyone. Living in community with six people can be hard. Try living in community with fourty-two all day, every day. The majority of the people were frustrated and overwhelmed, which led to a lot of initial complaint. And then there were some really hard decisions we knew were coming up, ones that we weren’t sure if we were prepared to make.
And to top it all off, our departing host told us we get the pleasure of coaching the local host on how to be a world race host.
At the time, I had only been here for three days, but it felt like three weeks.
Basically, it was just a really bad day.
We were sitting in a circle, sweating our butts off, and one of us said “I’m not who I want to be right now. This isn’t who we are, this isn’t us.”
And it was true. So much was going on. Every day we were living out of reaction, instead of proaction. Treading water, instead of swimming At least I know I was. We were exhausted. Tabitha said she was more exhausted that week than she had been in her entire life. (Read her blog if you want to hear about that one).
All day, the holy spirit kept telling me to pray. That morning before we walked inside to greet our squad mates and eat breakfast, He told me we needed to prepare our hearts. For whatever would be thrown at us. And boy was He right. And He kept telling us that throughout the day. To just stop. To pray.
And then, while we were sitting in that little circle of three, it was one of those moments. Our host came over while we were praying and laid hands on us. And then he got his wife, and they both sat down with us. He asked how we were. I wanted to say good. In fact, I did say good. And Austin and Tabitha just looked at me, eyebrows raised. We were not good.
They started praying for us. And during it, he said something that struck me, even though I had heard it before. That parents can’t carry the load of their children. That as much as they want to, they can’t take away the pain or the struggles. All they can do is walk alongside their children and encourage them the entire way. And as squad leaders, that was also true of us. We couldn’t carry the load of this squad.
But I desperately wanted to.
So I kept thinking about how Jesus walks alongside us in life. About how He could take away the pain, erasing it entirely. But He doesn’t. Instead, He chooses to experience it with us. He encourages us, rejoices with us, and mourns with us.
And that’s what He calls us to do for each other, too.
This month I’ve realized how much my prayer life has transformed on the race. Instead of only praying at different times throughout the day, I find myself talking to Jesus non stop inside my head, about literally everything. Constantly asking Him to show me the world through His eyes, to show me His heart. I finally understand what it means to talk to Jesus like He is your best friend. And I never want that to change.
This is our first month in Asia. Not only are we the very first missionaries to be this area, we are the first Americans they’ve ever seen.
How cool is that?
This month has been filled with so much good, yet so much hard. Which is pretty much the theme of the World Race.
This month, our squad is publishing a book. An actual, real life book. About our time here in the Philippines, about what ministry looks like, about our experience. There is a 7/11 just down the road with ice cold slurpees. My sleeping pad now has a hole in it and no longer stays inflated so I’m sleeping on two sleeping bags stacked on top of each other. Thankfully, for whatever reason, Tabitha bought an extra fluffy one. The weather is similar to the peak of Houston summers (humidity included) without the relief of air conditioning. Also without ice.
But on top of all that, a couple days ago, four of our squad mates went home. For various reasons that I won’t go into. Some chose to and some didn’t, but regardless of the reasons, it was hard.
Not only was it hard to see them go, but as squad leaders – Tabs, Austin, and I are the bearers of that bad news. Meaning we are the ones that have to tell their teams and we are the ones that announce it to the squad.
Which is quite possibly the worst part of this squad leading gig, if you ask me.
I stood in front of the squad, thirty plus pairs of eyes staring back at me. Tabitha stood on my left, silent tears running down her cheeks. In that moment, I was operating out of what felt like survival mode, doing everything I could not to let my emotions knock me off course, yet simultaneously doing everything I could to show my squad mates that this wasn’t easy for me either. Just get through it, I told myself. As soon as it was over, those emotions most definitely got the best of me.
It’s weird how God works. The moments that He chooses to show me how much I’ve grown. Because as hard as that moment was, I did it. And I can honestly say, the Rosie that came on this race month one, wouldn’t have been able to. She wouldn’t have had the strength, nor the courage.
Jesus keeps pushing me into more, but He holds my hand the entire time.
My squad mate Kayla Zilch said something in her latest blog that I loved. This isn’t a seven-month thing or a two-month thing. It’s an eleven-month thing.
And boy is she right. Because this race, though the days are numbered, is far from over. I still have four more months of growth left. And I can’t wait to see how much more He can do in me before I come home.
