It’s been just shy of six months since I was accepted into the craziness that is the World Race. In some ways, the time has flown by! Where, oh where, did those six months go? It seems like I just did my interviews! And in other ways, it seems to creep along. I still have how many months before I get to leave? Eleven. Eleven more months of planning, fundraising, and building relationships with people that, in all honesty, will probably end up on different routes.
If I told you guys about every change in emotion this experience has caused, you would get whiplash. It’s a whirlwind experience, even before we leave. And it seems as if the only people who understand this, are my squad – also known as the Fam Bam. We may have never met, and we may not have many one-on-one conversations, but there’s this undeniable bond there because we just get it. We can ask for the most off-the-wall prayers, and the group understands the significance behind it; even if it’s praying that the coffee is strong and not burned. We can ask countless get-to-know-you questions, from “Do you prefer dogs or cats?” to “What’s your stance on alcohol, drug use, and homosexual marriage?” and not get tired of answering them. We can bounce off fundraising ideas, share the excitement of finally getting that one person’s emotional support, and express our frustrations when we’ve been digging so many ditches we have blisters, and we’re not seeing any rain.
And as much as I love these people, who really are becoming my family, I don’t want them to be the only ones who can relate to my experience. So, six months in, here are the things I want you – my supporters, prayer warriors, donors, friends, and family – to understand about the Race, and what it means in my life:
- Everything is subject to spiritual warfare. Say what you will, but after about the 5th thing that goes wrong in one day, you begin to realize it’s not just coincidence. I firmly believe that the enemy comes to steal, to kill, and to destroy and he will use whatever he can to accomplish that. The person you’ve been so concerned about? Suddenly they’re extremely sick or facing financial difficulty. Your car? It’s going to break down. Your job? Your boss finds out you’re doing the race, and they’re looking for your replacement. Your bills? Somehow they’re all piling up, even though you know you took care of them. Your pet may die, you may ruin your favorite shirt, a series of people could look at you the wrong way. Everything in your life is being attacked, from the monumental to the insignificant. And when it’s not, when you’re in a season of peace, you’re looking around waiting for the next wave.
- Realizing your really are a missionary. A few weeks ago I dyed my hair a dark violet, and put some teal and magenta streaks in it. Add this to the fact that I have a nose ring, and people assume certain things about me. It’s really made evident when I start talking to people about the Race, and they say something like, “You don’t look like a missionary.” Hahaha! I don’t exactly feel like one, so I guess it works. I just want to share the love of Jesus Christ in practical ways. But in agreeing to do this, people suddenly have all these expectations for you. You’re supposed to look, act, and speak in a certain way. I heard a quote the other day and it went something like, “For the church to be talking so much about how Jesus loves sinners, we sure do a lot of condemning them once they’re in the church. Why do we suddenly have to be perfect? We need to agree that it’s okay to not be okay.” The same day I realized I really am a missionary, I also realized that Jesus set me – and you! – free from not only the law, but of the expectations that come with it. I don’t have to live up to anyone’s standards, except His. So, no, maybe I don’t look or feel like a missionary, but I’m okay with that because I’m learning to walk in His grace.
- Fundraising is the best – and the worst. I don’t know anyone who loves asking for money. It’s pride breaking. It can literally, physically hurt to ask for help. I look at all the financial obligations I have here, and think “How can I possibly ask people to give me $17,000?!” You start to believe the lies that it’s unbiblical to ask for this help. You start to believe that you are just a burden to others. You question your motives, and wonder if you’re just being selfish. And you become painfully aware of exactly how much you talk about the financial side of the Race. But I can’t put into words the truth of fundraising. I could try, but it would be about 10 pages long. What it boils down to is this: God has goers and senders. It’s not in God’s plan for the goers to do everything alone. He has orchestrated this amazing community of believers to act like a body. The goers are just the mouth. We need the brains to set up logistics. We need the shoulders to help carry our burdens. We need the heart to keep us motivated. We need the feet to keep us moving. And, yes, we need the hands to give. Again, there are no words to express how God is using you to show me His love, grace, forgiveness, and sovereignty. And having been on the other side of things, I know you can see that too! We, as Christians, belong to one another, and God is using fundraising as a tool to illustrate what community looks like.
- We look at gear and packing blogs all. the. time. Seriously. I have a session of reading current and past Racers blogs at least once a week. And even though I have most of my gear, I still window shop online. I just counted my bookmarks and I have seven packing lists and eight outfitters stores saved. And, even though I know next to nothing about outdoorsy stuff – I can now help you pick out a pack, a tent, and sleeping gear. I’ve learned that terms like guys and footprints and garage sales have more than one meaning! I know that you really do need to buy the REI membership, because you will use it, even if you think you won’t. It may seem silly, but if you ask us about which tent, sleeping bag, or pack we’re getting and why, we’re going to get way more excited than we should. After all, that’s our house, bed, and closet for a year!
- It’s okay to freak out. I am a yuppie girl. I don’t camp. I rarely hike. I hate summer with a passion. I don’t do bugs or snakes or the dark. Before this, I had no idea how to buy gear. I’m the last single I know, and I have two years before I can even consider dating (we all signed an agreement not to begin any new relationships until the Race is over). My mother has stage three cancer. My dog is old, and will probably die while I’m gone. I’ve struggled with depression and anxiety in the past, and it likes to reappear when I’m in new situations. I’m leaving everything and everyone I’ve ever known, with no guarantee of communication. I’m an introvert, and will have to live in constant community for eleven whole months. I used to believe that I wasn’t allowed to think these things or feel anxious about them, because fear means failure. But I’ve come to realize the best way to get past them, is to embrace them. I let myself freak out every now and again. The key is not to be consumed by it.
- I don’t know what I’m doing. And I don’t just mean I don’t know where I’m going or what ministry I’ll be part of. I don’t know if I want this to be a stepping stone into the long-term mission field. I don’t know what career I want when I get back. I don’t know what fundraisers to do. I don’t know when is the right time to quit my job and move back in with my parents. I don’t know how much time to devote to school, work, the Race, friends, and family. I have no plan – I’m making it up as I go. And for the first time, possibly ever, I am okay with that. God has proven to me that He can open doors I never even knew existed! So, please, don’t be frustrated if you ask me my plans, and I can’t see past next July. I’m going into this experience with no expectations, hoping that God will give me answers to questions I haven’t even thought to ask yet. But I promise – I will excitedly share with you my plans once I know what they are!
- God’s peace really does pass all understanding. Not once have I worried about where the money is coming from. Regardless of who gives, it’s coming from God. The fact that it’s you, gives us an opportunity to bond, and for you to experience blessings you would never have otherwise. I’m not afraid of the spiritual attacks. They’re going to happen. And I have the biggest support system of people who will stand and fight with me. When the craziness starts to settle in, God whispers over and over, “I am yours, you are mine, and I will handle this. I knew this would happen. Nothing surprises me. Trust me, because I have a plan.”
I suppose there’s really no way for you to understand what it’s like to be in this position. But I hope this gives you a glimpse into the life of a Racer. We’re not extraordinary people called to some larger than life task. Being a missionary doesn’t mean we’re better than or self-righteous. We’re just like you – that hasn’t changed. We’re probably even going to spend a month or two working in an office. We’re just kids, who want to know if there’s more. We want to experience God away from the comfortable lives we’ve built. We’re still human. We will fall. But we will get back up, knowing you’re there to cheer us on.
