I was thinking about my blogging this month, namely why I’ve been blogging about team changes often; that is, why does this matter enough for me to write at length about it? I get the sense that outside World Race circles – or anyone who hasn’t lived in intense community for an extended period of time – the gravity of these transitions gets lost in translation. Simply put, you just don’t get it.
And that’s okay. I’m pretty sure a couple years ago, this stuff would’ve gone over my head. “What’s the big deal?” I’d wonder. I probably wouldn’t have paid much attention, actually.
The best analogy I could come up with is that World Race teams are like small (or cell, whatever you call it at your church) groups. You join a small group with the intention of making them “your people” for a year – the ones you eat lunch with after worship service on Sundays, the ones you serve with, the ones you hang out with when you have free time, the ones you invest in spiritually, the ones you hold accountable, the ones who hold you accountable, the ones you turn to when you rejoice and when you mourn.
I suppose our teams are like small groups to the tenth power (World Race team = small group10). I imagine even living in “intentional community” isn’t as intense if most members of said community spend most of the day outside the home. Now imagine that your small group gets shifted mid-year. How would that make you feel?
Perhaps then you get a glimpse of how hard the squad-wide shuffle was for many of us and now you get it.
Or. . .
Perhaps being away from the familiar exaggerates everything. Maybe we blow things out of proportion, sweating things that don’t merit a second thought. So what if I now spend the next six months with a different set of (rock star) brothers and sisters? Oh blah dee, oh blah dah, life goes on.
A drive-by conversation via Gmail Chat with a friend gave me this perspective. He’s in the military currently serving somewhere in the desert; he left the U.S. about a month before I left, and he’ll be back about a month after I return. Though both of us are going through some life-changing experiences, he’s counting down the (many) days until he gets to come home; I’m counting down until I have to come home.
He told me about the track where they run. At some point in this track, there is a sign that reads something like, “Sniper Zone: Start Sprinting Now.” About 100 meters later, another sign reads something like, “You can stop sprinting now.”
As I read that, I laughed as I shook my head. How funny and messed up is that?! My friend is dodging bullets while running (possibly for his life) while I’m wondering how to avoid unnecessary team drama.
Is this what is like to wear bifocals at a metaphysical/spiritual level?
