I'm sitting here in my room at 1:30 in the morning completely overwhelmed by the call that God has placed on my life. When I should be packing for my move tomorrow (technically today at this point) all I do is browse the World Race website and read blogs of former racers. I read stories of brokenness, of pain, of poverty, of tragedy, of heart ache. These are also stories of redemption, of love, of perseverance, of faithfulness, of miracles and of the glorious earth shattering power of God, who is alive.
There are so many days, too many days, when thoughts of the mistakes I've made overwhelm me to the point I feel like I'm drowning. There are too many days when I feel like all I do is fail. There are too many days when I want to give up on prayers that beg and plead with God to bring salvation: to my family, to my friends, to my coworkers and to my classmates. There are too many days when all I think about is myself and my life and my schedule and my stuff that after it's almost over I realize I haven't said a word to the One who planned this all out for me in the first place.
My faith is so weak. I read these testimonies of racers who are being stretched, and stretched and stretched some more. I think to my self, "Oh, God what have I gotten myself into?" He knows better than anyone that relying on my own strength is how I've gotten by for so long. I've been caught up in survival mode and have lost sight of the exit sign. I can't get out but I know that God has called me into his marvelous light (1 Peter 2:9). He has not only called me daughter (1 John 3:1), but appointed me as a co-heir with Christ (Romans 8:17) and ambassador of His kingdom (2 Corinthians 5:20). He knows better than anyone that I can't get out, so He's leading me step by step through the darkness and the pain. For His glory he has done this.
Inexplicable tears roll down my cheeks as I realize that this call on my life is radical. It is uncomfortable. It is a constant struggle of choosing to take up my cross and follow Him, instead of laying it down and resting on it immobile for a while. Can I actually do this? Who am I that I get to take this incredible journey across the world? A journey with the creator of the universe walking not only beside me, but intimately molding me and growing me along the way.
As the tears, of disbelief and pure agony for the lost in this world I will soon come in contact with, dry up it dawns on me: there is not a day goes by that I will be able to accomplish anything eternal without Him. I am not walking alone. I am not going on this journey empty-handed. I walk in the power that was given to me the moment I died to my sin and accepted Jesus into my heart. I am simply a vessel filled to the brim with a passion to touch the lives of those I come in contact with.
I mean these things now. I mean these things today. I mean these things here, in the United States. How can I proclaim freedom over the children in Africa if I can't proclaim freedom over the students I walk by every single day on campus? How can I pray for healing of the hungry and hurting in Central America if I don't open my eyes to the hungry and hurting here in Atlanta? How can I intercede for the salvation of souls in Asia if I've given up on the power of salvation in my own family? The answer is: I can't. I refuse to coast through these next nine months with my head in the race, all while checking out of my life here right now.
There is a reason I am here. There is a reason I still have nine months left before I leave. There is a reason, and it is God-breathed and it is good. The lyrics of the Kari Jobe song "You Are For Me" keep playing over and over in my head for weeks on end. "I know that you are for me. I know that you are for me. I know that you will never forsake me in my weakness".
I am overwhelmed by the call God has placed on my life: to love the people of all nations (including my own) and to reach them with the Gospel. This Gospel that exclaims it is finished and that we are liberated from our sin and we can rest in the fact that we have been reunited with the Father here and now.
So much love. So much grace. So much peace.
And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations,baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Matthew 28:18-20 ESV
Ay ay, captain. Let's go.
