“Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage”
Psalm 84:5
Life on the race is a whirlwind, in more ways than one. There is an intentionality here unlike anything I have ever experienced, and a rather constant pressure to make the most of every moment. This is most often a great pressure, but can certainly wear on you if you’re not taking the time to re-energize when necessary. In light of this, as Matthew and I traversed the mountain the other day I began to recognize some reasonably effective parallels to my personal growth.
I’ve been doing some personal inventory and reflection lately upon the work that God has done in me the last few years and specifically the last seven months. It is quite encouraging and exciting to recognize how different I am and how much God has done in my life, and trying to track and quantify by some measure that growth. Life before the race was an undeniable incline, with certain seasons of more aggressive growth in things God revealed to me or challenged me in. There were certainly peaks, and certainly some plateaus, but in the general sense I’ve been ascending the foothills and up the base of the mountain. It is in this perspective that I can really recognize that God was leading me all along to this mountain of the World Race, where He intended to grow and challenge me in ways I never could have imagined. As the climb and the race begins, morale is high, energy is abundant, and spirits are eager. Through the early ridges and valleys our endurance is sustained, and we are convinced that we can continue to the summit by the same manner in which we have been carrying on. It doesn’t take much to take your breath away, and there’s a new incredible sight awaiting every subsequent ridge. I’ve done and seen amazing things these first seven months, and it’s no hard task to look back and catalogue the individual things God taught me in each month.
The middle of the race, the middle of the mountain climb, we arrive at the top before heading back down. The incline sharpens considerably, and we realize that the same enthusiasm that came so easily early in the climb is increasingly harder to come by. We’re digging through the pack, trying to find the emergency reserve of water and bananas to give us just enough energy to push us over that ridge. On the race, I’ve recognized the necessity of rest, of a Sabbath, of effective processing time. It can be incredibly hard to come by, and requires very specific intentionality to make it happen as it must. The things that we’ve seen and done, the steps we’ve taken thus far, can’t continue to be pushed back until some later time to be sincerely faced as reality. It’s easiest during this climb to miss the best views of the hike because you need to be looking at your feet, trying to keep yourself upright. It’s far too easy to loose sight of the incredible, large-scale work God is doing in and around us, getting caught up in the day-by-day realities of life on the race.
And so begins the hike down. This can be a dangerous part in the analogy if you start to assume that the downhill path is a stroll in the park, and all we have left is the easy coast until the end of the race. That is not my desire or intention for these last 4 months. This is where your knees start to feel the pressure and where your endurance must come from a place beyond yourself, but it’s still a necessary part of the adventure. Our path down the mountain was a completely different route through foreign areas, remote villages and plenty of surprises, struggles, and new successes. God has some amazing things in store for this hike, and I can’t wait to see what He will bring us through before reaching the end. Now, I refuse to accept that there lies nothing but plains on the other side of the World Race mountain, but instead this will be a mere foothill to the greater mountain range that awaits post-race. Of course, like any good hike, let’s take it one step at a time.
