Since my last post, I’ve had a few people ask me about my story and the World Race Gap Year. I wanted to write this post to share my story; in the next post, I’ll share more about World Race Gap Year.
Let me just begin by saying how incredibly patient, kind, and loving God is! He’s slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love! This is my story!
I grew up going to church, participating in youth groups, teaching Sunday school, and helping out in the nursery. I made profession of faith when I was in high school, and I was part of First Priority, the Christian club that met at lunch on Thursdays. To me, in high school, my faith was based on my works and what I did to help at the church. I really just followed the faith of my parents. From the outside, I looked like a good, Christian kid.
But I was so, so broken. My parents divorced when I was seven, and I struggled a lot with that. With feelings of inadequacy and that I wasn’t worthy of love. I realize now that these were lies the enemy was telling me, but in my middle school, high school, and even into college years, these lies created huge emotional wounds that presented themselves in different ways.
In high school, I struggled with fitting in. I had a few close friends, but I was super insecure and always sought others’ approval. I was the ultimate people pleaser. I would focus my entire life around who I talked to and who I sat next to at lunch. Then, when I felt rejected by friends, I would try to fit in through other ways. I tried fitting in by wearing the latest clothes and name brands. And eventually, in high school, I tried fitting in through drinking and partying. It felt good to hide behind alcohol.
Opening the door to drinking in high school led me right down the wrong path in college. I moved to Florida for college, and my first two years were a blur of drinking, partying, and church. I would be out on Saturday nights until 2 or 3 in the morning, and then I would show up at church on Sundays feeling so guilty. But then I would start a new week and it would start all over again. I would listen to the Christian radio station in my car and then go out and get drunk.
That lasted for about a year. I remember one night just thinking how unhappy I was. I felt like I fit in when I was drinking, and I think that’s why I lived that lifestyle for so long. But it just felt so pointless. My friends only wanted to hang out with me when we were drinking, and it got to a point that I was drinking to get drunk almost every night. I was insecure and unsure of my identity.
I was bitter, resentful, and full of self-hate. I knew the right thing to do, but I didn’t want to do it. I remember going to church on Sunday, feeling so guilty about my week and the choices I had made. I was broken, and I knew what God was calling me to do to get out of that spiral of brokenness, but I didn’t want to change anything.
It was on January 2, 2009 that I decided to make my faith my own. I felt like I was being called to more. The word “more” was spoken to me again and again.
That I was made for more.
That there was more for me than this pointless living.
I remember hearing a pastor talk about Revelation 3:15-17 which says, “I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth. You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.” I knew I needed to make a choice, that I couldn’t sit on the fence forever. That I couldn’t say one thing and do another. I couldn’t keep living the lifestyle of going to church and drinking to get drunk all on the same day.
On January 2, I decided to listen to the call for more.
I blamed a lot of my bad decisions on my dad and felt that the first thing I needed to do was forgive him. So, I packed up everything I owned in my little kia rio and left Florida at 3 in the morning to drive to Arkansas. I quit my jobs, quit school, and spent a couple of months getting to know my dad better. I told him that I forgave him for leaving my mom and my sister. A lot of healing came from that.
I eventually made my way back down to Florida where I attended a Palm Beach Atlantic University and grew more in love with Jesus. I realized that it was more about a relationship than about what I could do. I kept hearing that call for more, and eventually, that led me to go on the World Race.
I remember having the conversation with my mom:
Me: Hey Mom! I’ve decided that once I graduate from college, I’m going on the World Race. It’s a mission trip to 11 countries over 11 months. (I then proceeded to tell her about the different countries and the work we would be doing)
Mom: Wow! That sounds really great, and I would love to go with you! But I bet it’s expensive.
Me: Yep! $15,500. But I really think that God is calling me into this, and I believe that He will provide for me!
Mom: That’s a lot of money, Samantha. I don’t know about this.
I was accepted to the World Race on my birthday in 2011. Nine months later, I was on a plane from Washington, D.C. to Hyderabad, India. Throughout those nine months, every last dollar was raised for my trip. It was incredible to see God provide through so many different avenues. I was spurred on to greater faith because of the generosity of others. While my faith and dependence grew before the World Race, it was only a launching place for what God was about to do in and through me over the next 11 months.
I had read of community in the Bible. I had read of healing. I had read of demons being cast out. I had read of how Jesus miraculously provided food for 5,000 people. All of these things I read; I knew that they were possible back in the time that Jesus walked on the earth. However, I had never seen these things with my own eyes.
Until the World Race.
I lived in community. I saw God heal people. I saw and was used by the Lord to cast out demons. I didn’t know where my next meal was coming from, and then food would miraculously be provided. These things that I had previously read about became my reality. It was on the World Race that God broke me of my religion and gave me a real relationship where I knew that I could truly rely upon Him, trust in Him, and cling to Him. He was always good, and He will always be good. It’s His nature, His essence; that’s who He is.
As cliché as it sounds, I returned from the World Race a different person.
There’s so much more I could say, but I’ll end it here. Stay tuned for the next post that will share about the World Race Gap Year!
