Friday, January 10, 2014
We arrived to Santo Domingo, Xenacoj, Guatemala last night. When our plane crept steadily closer to the airport at Guatemala City something inside me began to stir: a familiar excitement that accompanies a new place and a new adventure. We broke through the clouds and the lights of our newest home sprang into view. We fell closer and closer to the ground and the runway finally appeared out of the darkness to catch our plane in a long-awaited embrace.
It’s like one moment I’m in March and I’ve just decided to take the leap to go on the Race, and then all of a sudden I was landing in my first country. An eerie feeling washed over me, like I was having an out of body experience. A-Squad walked through customs and we said a last prayer together, and then we were off. Short goodbyes and a few final glances were all I had with the people I had been sharing my life with the past few days.
The Joy Bombs were flying solo.
The streets were dimly lit as we climbed into the mountains to find our little town of Xenacoj. I was floored by how familiar it all felt. So like El Salvador and yet so foreign. Since I woke up this morning I keep asking myself, “is this really going to test you?” I’ve done ministry in Central America for nine months before, and I know how hard it gets and how sweet it can be. I found myself feeling extremely comfortable, with a sort of “been there, done that” mindset.
The Lord revealed to me this afternoon that this overconfidence is just a mask for what’s really going on: I’m afraid.
Afraid that the World Race won’t be everything I’ve built it up to be: some life changing, hyper-spiritual, self-discovery journey.
To be frank-that’s such a big steaming pile of horse crap that I’m meant to believe so my heart stops swelling with excitement and love for this town and for this country.
I read this today in a book called Fearless, by Max Lucado:
“When safety becomes our god, we worship the risk-free life. Can the safety lover do anything great? Can the risk-averse accomplish noble deeds? For God? For others? No. The fear-filled cannot love deeply. Love is risky. They cannot give to the poor. Benevolence has no guarantee of return. The fear-filled cannot dream wildly. What if their dreams sputter and fall from the sky? The worship of safety emasculates greatness. No wonder Jesus wages such a war against fear.”
I don’t think Jesus was messing around when he said, “Do not fear, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom (Luke 12:32).”
I don’t think he was messing around when he put the World Race in my heart and a passion in my soul for pouring out love onto the people of the world. I associate Central America with safety because I lost my heart to it a long time ago. God is the God of new days, of new creation and new chances. Each day is a new time to walk with Him and see Him change the world. Starting tomorrow I will be setting out with my team to pray over the some 250 widows of Xenacoj. The following week we will be going to schools everyday to cook for the kids and eat alongside them. We have an opportunity this month to have conversations with people, to make small talk, to share some food. We get to look the people of Guatemala in the eyes and say, “I see you. You are loved. You are beautiful. You are precious in the eyes of the Father.”
Whether you are sitting on a bed in the mountains of Guatemala, or sitting in front of your desk at work in the States or scrolling down the screen of your iPhone, God has asked you to fear not, so that you can accept the gift of the kingdom and share it with the world you’re in right this second.
Do great things with your life, for the glory of the Father.
Be bold in the name of Jesus.
Love someone by the power of the Spirit.
Let his love cast out all fear, and watch what your life can look like when you´re fearless.
