This week I had the opportunity to partner with 2 of my squad mates to shoot a documentary at PVT, or parent vision trip, in which parents of racers from all over the country traveled to Swaziland to do ministry with their kids, and catch a small glimpse into what the past 8 months of our lives have looked like. For me, even without my own parents being able to come it was one of the best weeks of the race, and a project I will never forget. I captured relationships restored, families grow closer to the Lord, and parents lives changed forever. Spending time with those parents, and capturing the amazing things that happened in that place refreshed my soul and reminded me of God’s plan for my life.
That plan is the subject of today’s blog.
A couple of days after the parents got settled I was asked to speak in front of the group. It was at the beginning of that talk that I remembered it was a very special day. The date was April 22nd, and exactly 2 years prior, on that day, I gave my life to the Lord. It was, by far, the best decision I have ever made. He has taken me to spiritual and literal mountaintops, and shown me a way of life I could have only dreamed of, all in a very short amount of time. But this blog isn’t about those spiritual highs; but rather about my first low point in my faith, the first time in 2 years I had doubts about what I was doing, and Who I was serving.
My life before the Lord found me lacked direction to say the least. The only thing I ever had a passion for up until I found the Lord was music and drugs. I found my identity in the nightlife scene and the people in it. These things, in essence, were my church and my God. And life was good for a long time. I was surrounded by friends who loved me, and who to this day I still love very much. I was making a lot of money. There were women. I saw no reason to change a thing. But towards the end it became very clear in my heart that something was not right with me. I had a constant sense of impending doom. People around me were getting arrested. I myself got a DWI. Someone died in my apartment of a drug overdose while I was out of town. All the while I’m doing things that could land me in prison for a very, very long time.
And then, just when it felt like my life was ready to crumble around me, an old friend Jonathan Clark, who is now on the race with me, invited me to church. See, Jonathan sold me the first tab of ecstasy I ever took in a club years before. Jonathan turned his life around in a radical way soon after that initial meeting, but when I saw him years later in my moment of need, God used this familiar face that I could trust to reach out to me. I accepted that invitation. And I allowed the Lord into my heart that very night.
The transformation started immediately. I didn’t want to sell drugs anymore. The problem was, I didn’t know what I wanted to do at all. The Lord answered that question in a radical way just 1 month later. Pastor Tim, who led me to the Lord, told us one Tuesday evening that a spot had opened up on the churches yearly mission trip to Nicaragua, and I knew that spot was meant to be mine. I was just one of many people who asked to claim that spot, and I just knew that one of the people who “had more of a story” or were “more qualified” to go would get to go. But that wasn’t God’s plan. A couple of weeks later I was on a plane to Central America, on a trip that would change my life forever.
I had never experienced the power of the Lord in such a tangible way before that trip. I saw people restored, souls saved, and hungry people fed. I found out about the world race for the first time. I had never audibly heard God’s voice before, but on that trip he called me into full time ministry. I knew without a doubt this is what I would do with my life. The answer of exactly what that would look like came from my good friend Eric, who is part of the video and media team at our church. He captured that trip in a beautiful way. I remember watching those videos and falling in love with how the unforgettable story of what that trip meant to me was told on the screen. I knew that God wanted me to use video as a powerful tool to reach people and change the world, and for the first time in 25 years, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life.
I returned to the States with a determination that I had never had before. I found an amazing job that I loved, and slowly started saving for professional camera equipment. Meanwhile God kept bringing the race to the forefront of my mind, and eventually I said yes. I would work hard, buy all of the equipment I needed, and use these skills God had given me to bless my ministry hosts and tell stories through film; and that’s exactly what I did. A little over a year later I launched on the World race with a camera bag full of everything I needed.
Month one in India our hosts had been praying for people with camera skills to help their ministry with several projects. We filmed over a thousand sponsored children for their sponsors to see their face. We told the stories of people who had been sponsored and had success in the community. It was a confirmation from God that I was on the right track, and is still one of my favorite months of the race.
As the race continued on I continued shooting. I was always looking to gather as much footage as possible, to catch every exciting moment on film. I fell in Love with my new craft. I was good at it. I was happy with life and with the Lord. All of that changed within a week of touching down in Africa. We arrived at our team house in Botswana and got settled in. Our hosts warned us about break-ins in the area, but with bars on every window and steel gates around every door, I thought we were perfectly safe. I didn’t bother to put my camera bag away when I went to sleep.
One morning I woke up and noticed my laptop wasn’t next to my bed on the charger where I had left it. A team mates phone was gone. My heart sank. I immediately knew what had happened. We walked into the living room where my camera bag had been, and it was missing. A single bar had been sawed off in the night, and the thieves had slipped in through a tiny space. To this day I am just thankful that no one woke up, because there is no telling what they would have done. At the end of the day things are replaceable, but my team mates are not.
I was initially in shock. But as the reality set in that everything I had worked so hard for was gone, there was a mix of emotions. I was sad. Sad for the people who did this. I have seen poverty that up until this year I had only heard about. I sympathized with them. But most of all I was angry. Angry at those same men. Angry at Africa as a continent. Most of all angry at God. I felt betrayed. I couldn’t fathom why He would allow me to work so hard for something just to have it taken away. I cried out to Him. I had reached the first true test of my faith.
My initial reaction was to replace my gear. It took very little praying into that area to hear Him very, very clearly. He wanted me to be without it. This realization brought out more anger and frustration, but I couldn’t deny what He wanted me to do- experience Africa without technology. So that’s exactly what I did. I pressed into the pain of being stripped of what had become a big part of my identity, and I found that God was perusing me in a beautiful new way. I was able to see that videography and photography had become an idol, something I looked to in order to experience the richness and beauty of his creation. He didn’t want part of my heart. He wanted all of it. God was after my heart.
The following 3 months brought some of the most beautiful moments of my entire life. I looked into orphans eyes and I was looking straight into the eyes of my creator, and I felt how much he loved me. I watched the sun set over the rolling hills of southern Africa, and I sensed just how grand our creator is. And through every moment he romanced me deeper and deeper into him. I realized that brokenness proceeds intimacy. I remembered why I did this trip. It was for His glory. Not mine. And not my portfolio.
And so the past 3 months void of technology brought me infinitely closer to Him. If having that gear was in any way hindering me from growing in intimacy, or slowing down what God wanted to do in me, then it was the biggest blessing in disguise of my entire life. Having my life taken from me allowed me to find it in a new way. For that I am forever thankful.
Those 3 months of infinitely valuable lessons led me to PVT, where I stepped behind the lens for the first time since losing my gear. I had a renewed passion for my craft, but more importantly I only wanted to do it for His glory and to further his kingdom. This week I heard the Lord very clearly once again: You are ready. Ready to do the work I have for you. I had to go through that pain to take the gifts he has given me and run with it for the rest of my life. And so the time will come when I will raise money to buy new gear, and finish this race, both on the field and beyond, telling HIS story. Not mine. But that blog will come after our short film is complete, and the time is exactly right. As of now my only hope and prayer, and I hope it is yours as well, is that I lean into the remaining 4 months of the race and fight for everything the Lord wants for me. I can’t wait to see what South America has in store for me.
In closing, I am still $2,346 away from being fully funded, and as I write this I am less than a month away from the possibility of being forced to leave the field. Please pray and consider contributing and allow God to continue to work through me and finish this thing!
Much Love and blessings.
