Today is Christmas Day. A day to enjoy family and friends. To laugh, to hug, to give oneself, to be joyful. We give gifts to each other and enjoy traditions passed down to us like thread knit into our souls. But it is not just a day to celebrate many blessings and to enjoy. It is also a day to look back and see what God has done.
And not just the obvious, as the day Jesus was born. But to see that we are in the middle of the greatest epic tale ever told. It is happening right now. And Christmas is a symbol that God took a painting that knew no bounds of time, and breathed life into it. This painting has received life from the breathe of the Creator. Today is a day to recognize that we are in the middle of God's great revelation. We celebrate together and praise the Lord for the very romance of His gift and the splendor of the tale He is spinning. You and I are central to this story. The flames of His passion consume us in this tale. Today I reflect and see His great symbol of love and say "thank you."
I am just like an Israelite. I saw incredibly powerful and miraculous signs from the Lord. And now I complain and have a hard time trusting that He will come through.
I know I have had a lot of time to think about this topic, but the idea of faith is still something I am grasping at. I do not mean whether or not I believe in God. I mean dangerous faith that requires stepping into a vague cloud, each step veiled and difficult.
It has been over a year since I have returned home from the World Race. A lot has changed in this year. God has given me an amazing woman whom I will be marrying in a few weeks! I have moved from Scottsdale, AZ to Flagstaff, AZ to Colorado Springs, CO to Sarasota, FL. And I have still wrestled with the meaning of the faith I tasted on the World Race. I saw incredible miracles. I saw God providing in unbelievable ways. God routinely showed up at the last second and wowed me, over and over. I discovered that there was more to this God thing than I had ever experienced before. I was stirred up, woken up, broken down, and lifted up many times over.
I am not sure exactly what I expected from my return to the United States. Honestly I think I believed that my return would somehow mark a drastic change in the lives of those around me. That maybe wherever I went there would be a dramatic revival in people’s hearts. And for whatever reason, the climactic and dramatic never really occurred. People were interested in hearing my stories for a while. But soon that novelty wore out and people were back to their busy lives.
Since then I have kind of been standing around scratching my head. I knew there was something different inside of me. I had been changed. And I have found it difficult to assimilate back into the everyday lifestyle that surrounds me. I have jumped around to new locations, spreckling in a few odd jobs. I worked for AIM, worked for a coffee shop, did some landscaping, have spent months writing and recording all my stories from the World Race. Sometimes earning money and a lot of times not earning money.
I know that I have had really high expectations for what my own faith would look like living in the United States. And for whatever reasons, I have had to deal with feelings of disappointment. Although I have not gone through feelings of doubt about what I experienced, I have seen that a lot of the pizzazz that marked my spiritual life kind of go flat, like a soda left out too long.
My biggest spiritual question, ever since I returned home, became, "So what does this life I want to live LOOK LIKE?" Intangible concepts like "a heart on fire for God" met head on realities like rent money and bills. I could not figure out the difference between living a radical life of faith and running away from responsibilities. The World Race bubble burst rather quickly. Suddenly praying and reading for hours in a day, seeing what God brings to you, asking the Lord, and living by faith went from kosher to irresponsible.
My soon to be wife has been incredible. God has used her in many ways to challenge me and grow me. God has used her to continue pulling down old walls that I never even knew were there. She has helped me grow in spiritual freedom and has given me nudges when I need them. I love her and I see her as a picture of God's blessing to me every day.
But now I am not just responsible for one. I am getting married. That means that a whole lot more is on the line. That makes it that much more difficult to trust God. If He doesn't come through, my wife will have to pay. So I sit here and squirm and wriggle.
And then God speaks to me. "I am doing this for you. Just because your situation has changed, does not mean I have changed. This is all part of you learning to trust me in all things." And for now I see that it was easier for me to trust that God would come through while going into a remote village in Africa than trusting God in finding a job in America. It is like once I came home from the "mission field", I had to trade in my missionary pants for something much more rigid and conforming. The unspoken rules of American life that I so clearly experienced freedom from have been hammered back in around me.
It has been difficult to see that I am living the exact same life. The only difference is that my location is not some distant foreign land that changes every few weeks. So instead of being invigorated by interactions with monks in Cambodia, I need to see the beauty in the seemingly mundane. My faith still needs to be radical. Because it is still not me who is God and I do not want to wrestle those responsibilities out of His hands. If God doesn't come through, I'm sunk. It is the same as if I were eating goat in Mozambique or on the beach in sunny Florida.
I know my thoughts might have meandered a bit. I am still trying to grasp this. The point I am trying to make is this: Trusting in God did not stop once I left the world race. To me is has become more real because it is no longer in the context of a "program." I am learning to trust God every day in life.
I realize it has been a significant amount of time since I have posted anything or had much communication. For that I apologize. But I hope this finds you well. There have been significant changes for me since I have come off the world race. I am sure that most everyone who came back home after something so intense and life changing will have plenty more changes once they return. Some will be foreseen and others will not. But that is the beauty and adventure of it all. Even when you think you know what is to come, it rarely looks like you expect it.
The biggest and most beautiful change for me, my ultimate blessing, has come into my life. The Lord has prepared for me a bride, and soon Jenny Dawson and I will be getting married! For some this is no news, but I realize that many people out there who read many blogs of mine will be fairly clueless.
I must say that the Lord has chosen to bless me far beyond anything I could imagine. Way back when I was in Peru, God spoke the name Jenny to me. I did not really know what that meant at the time. But several months later Jenny Dawson got off the bus in Swaziland and a friendship began. I was still clueless that this could be the Jenny behind the name that God spoke to me. Then a romance began to develop while we were both in Thailand. We continued to talk most every day via email while I was in Cambodia and she remained in Thailand (anyone who remembers my love of the "Blue Pumpkin" might now realize why I loved the internet so much).
When the race ended for me in Hong Kong, I had prayed many hours about and for Jenny. I knew she still had six months left on the race but I felt strongly that I could not just let her go. The day before she left to go into China, where I would painfully not be able to communicate with her for a month, I told her of my feelings and we both decided to give things a try. The next month was very difficult, I missed her so much. But I felt in my heart that God was protecting her and that what we had was a beautiful gift.
Almost six months later, Jenny came home to Florida. The next day, I flew in to see her. Unbeknown to Jenny, God had spoken to me while she was still on the race that this was the woman that God had been preparing for me, and who He had prepared me for. After two weeks in Florida with her wonderful family who never threatened to kill me, Jenny and I flew back to Arizona as she moved to be out in Flagstaff with me.
God told me to wait until August 1 to ask her to marry me. He said we
needed at least three months to just be around each other. Wanting to be obedient, but not wanting to waste time, I bought a ring. On July 31st I asked Jenny's dad if I could have his daughter's hand in marriage and he graciously welcomed me into the family. On August 1, Jenny and I went to the beach in her home town of Sarasota and I proposed to her at sunset. She cried (in the good way) and hugged me tighter than anyone has ever hugged me before. It took her five minutes to even look at the ring. Eventually she did say "yes" and I was much relieved. A random man walked by and even offered to take pictures at the exact moment I was proposing, so we happen to have pictures of the surprise proposal. It was a truly beautiful moment! I felt that the Lord set everything up perfectly.
The actual proposal!
We are now in Colorado Springs and happily engaged. We will be getting married in January on the beach in Sarasota.
That is most certainly the biggest news of my life and I am honored to share it with you and I thank you for having spent the time that you did supporting me and praying for me on the world race. There is a whole new set of adventures that the Lord is leading me, and now Jenny Dawson on, together.
I write this with great humility and gratitude. Life is a funny thing. One minute you think you are right on top of things. Everything is great. You are coasting. And in a minute you can be humbled.
I realize there are a lot of people out there who have been following my journey for a year and a half now. You have read when the times were good, and you prayed for me when things seemed hard. Since the race has ended, I felt I had a grip on things. I felt I had figured a lot of things out. Maybe I thought I had the upper hand on people. If ever that was the case, I repent of that now. I know that God has a lot of things in store for me. And to believe that I am in control of those things is pretty ridiculous. I have no idea what is coming.
I thought I knew what would happen when I came home from the race. Maybe I thought everyone would hail my return. Maybe I thought no one would care. Maybe I thought all the world needed was me to come around and tell them how things are. If ever my pride got in the way of what God was doing, I repent of that now. I thought coming on staff with AIM was the perfect solution. Maybe I thought that was the key to my life. I don't even really know right now.
All this to say that as of now, I am no longer going to have the "staff" position with AIM. I don't think that anything went wrong. And at this point, I'm not exactly sure why I spent only six months on staff. But God does seem to be saying it's okay now to put my hands to what most people do. That is to work hard, love the Lord, support others, and enjoy life.
I am deeply grateful for everyone who has ever supported me in any way. I know it has taken a lot of sacrifice from a lot of people to make possible what has happened in the last year and a half. Many people have shown faithfulness to the Lord and to me through their generosity. Many people have spent hours on their knees on my behalf, covering me with prayer. It is difficult for me to express how appreciative I am of everyone who has been a part of this. Any previous attempts at this have come up short, and do not convey what it has taken for you to be a part of this.
I ask for your continued prayer as I walk with the Lord, not really knowing where He is leading me next. I really don't know what is about to happen. But I trust the Lord. One thing I learned from the World Race is that my Father is worthy to be trusted. Just because I am not in the poorest country in Africa does not mean that I no longer need to trust Him. Every day is a step of faith.
Once again, thank you for walking this journey with me. I pray that the Lord will bless you mightily in the days to come. I love you all and I am humbled by what you all have done for me this year. Thank you.
I have now been working for AIM for about three months. So I feel an update to all my supporters and friends would be appropriate.
First of all, transitioning back into the United States after experiencing the World Race has been a challenging but good experience. I think that most people have felt like they exist in sort of an awkward in-between-state-of-mind. We have experienced something radical and have clearly been changed by it. So to go back to just the same sort of lifestyle before without at least change of mindset about it does not really seem to be an option, at least for myself. And yet it seems to be difficult to really move forward because, again for myself, I don't really know exactly where to go. I feel like I have hundreds of options at my fingertips, many of which seem very good, that it can almost be paralyzing. Maybe there is a fear that whatever I do, it won't be good enough, or radical enough, or worth people's money enough. I think other racers have expressed the same sort of sentiments. "We are changed!... uuuh, now what?"
This process of coming back has been a big learning experience for myself. It has felt like an extremely slow process and has been frustrating at times. But I know that God is in it. And repeatedly, He has told me, "Just keep going. Its okay not to know. It's good not to know. Just dont stop and do nothing." So I have been trying to move forward. And in retrospect, I know that I have. A lot of really good things have happened. And I really am continuing to grow in faith in the same kind of rapid rate that occurred during the race. But I know that I don't have things figured out, not that I am expecting to have my life solved.
In my time working with AIM, I have spoken with churches and groups in Los Angeles, around Phoenix, in Flagstaff, at the Universities. I have had my story told (brilliantly by Jeff Goins) in Relevant Magazine. I have been a part of organizing a bike ride to raise awareness about human trafficking in which we saw several organizations, an author, and leading resources on human trafficking, share on nightly nationwide conference calls. I have had lots of one on one meetings with people interested in serving in missions. I walk around the neighborhoods near me each morning. Through this, I have met quite a few really interesting people. I have been working with a "mobilization team," which essentially like a recruiting type team, focusing on simply telling our stories, and encouraging others to go and have their own type of experience, encouraging people to step outside of their comfort zones while following after God. We have seen an increase in people who are choosing the World Race as an outlet for serving God. So essentially, we have seen good things happening on the way to meeting some of our goals.
A common theme among racers is that life is ministry, and you cannot compartmentalize that into only a certain aspect of life. I guess it has been a big learning experience to take that, which I very much believe in, and translate it into practice.
So I will be moving forward day by day. I still do not really know much about what I will be doing in the future. But I am very thankful to have an amazing group of people walk with me every step of the way. I am extremely grateful for your generosity with your giving, and most certainly for all your prayers. You all mean so very much to me!
Thank you all for being a part of Team Up, Gear Up: Biking Against Human Trafficking
Here is a video documentary of our travels. It's the thrilling made-for-TV version based on the award winning blog series The Great Bike Adventure part 1, 2, and 3! Grab some popcorn and enjoy!
We made it to Prescott at last and pushed through the last few miserable miles to my friend's house. Her and her husband were waiting for us to arrive and had prepared an amazing barbeque. We gorged that night on beef, showered for the first time in 7 days, and slept peacefully in the warmth of their house.
We woke up to a beautiful morning, and the smell of coffee brewing. The wind fled during the night and showed no signs of coming back, much to our relief. After a delicious home cooked breakfast of pancakes and fruit, we mounted up for our final day. This was the longest day of riding of the entire trip, 95 miles, but was our most enjoyable day by far. The wind was nowhere to be seen, and the long stretches of down hills whisked us quickly back into the valley of the sun. We ate lunch at the bottom of the incredibly steep Yarnell Hill with a man we had met our first day on the way to the canyon. Mike was a local artist, carving intricate murals out of wood for people all over the world. We chatted and shared stories of our travels over the beer he offered us. This place seemed to be a gathering point of interesting characters. I swear Santa Clause himself drove up on a motorcycle with a sidecar that looked like it was from the Cold War. All sorts of men gathered here, the real salt of the earth types. It looked like they worked hard, and loved it. They wore their Carhartt overalls proudly, and firmly shook hands with their dirty, weathered, and beautiful hands.
The sun rose high and showered us with its warmth, which felt good after the icy chill of the previous day. The miles here were flat but quick as we passed through a few more small towns that mark the outskirts of Phoenix. Before long, the sun was at our backs as the traffic of the big city picked up and the traffic lights signaled our journey was coming to a close. Relief that rest was coming soon was met with a sense of sadness that our adventure was coming to a close. The Safeway that was our staging point for our departure greeted us. The unsuspecting shoppers were clueless as to why a small group of cyclists were celebrating in the parking lot. We gave each other high fives, loaded up our gear and all crammed into the truck. We sleepily drove across Phoenix to make it back to my parent's house where we were greeted with much joy, relief, good food, and great beer.
It was not always easy, in fact, it rarely was. But that is what made it an adventure. The painful miles of biking and hiking, the wind laughing at us, the bike problems, were all part of the adventure. I think a life following after God is often like that. It is usually the really difficult parts that were the most defining moments. The challenges are there for us to test our mettle, so that at the end, we have something refined by fire, which is hard to come by these days. I believe life is an adventure, and it should be lived as such.
But making it to the Colorado River was worth every painful step and each weary pedal of the bike. The beauty at the bottom of the Grand Canyon is unparalleled. The Grand Canyon holds this mysterious quality in which nothing outside of it seems to matter. Time, worries, nothing else is important when you stare off into the vast canyon. Being at the bottom of the Grand Canyon is like being held in God's hand, you are completely enveloped by it, and you feel perfectly at peace.
As I sat by the river and prayed the next morning, God gave me something He knew I would need. I noticed a washed up piece of driftwood that would make a perfect walking stick. With only a matter of hours to enjoy at the bottom of the canyon, we ate breakfast, broke camp, and headed out of the depths. My knees were in serious pain, so I relied heavily upon my newfound best friend of a stick.
The sun beat down on us worse than it had the day before. We were previously in shade all day because of the canyon walls and the late sun. But the wide open rock early in the morning caught all the sun and radiated like an oven. Even in the spring, the earth here was scorched. I moved a stone to try to sit on it under a slight covering of shade. A scorpion scurried out, following the stone as I moved it, and quickly took refuge under the shade. I moved the stone again, and this time the scorpion hid under my fallen Clif Bar wrapper. Even the scorpions knew to stay out of the sun.
Late that afternoon, we found ourselves back on the icy trail near the top of the rim. It is truly amazing the differences held within such a small ecosystem. Oasis at the river, baking desert, and snow-filled pine forest, all engulfed us within a few miles. We wearily clambered out of the canyon and were immediately met with an icy chill of wind. A few hours ago we were nearing heat exhaustion, and here we were bundling up with our winter clothes.
That night we crashed at our campsite without ever starting a fire or doing anything else. We slept a good 12 hours before we got back on our bikes to begin our journey back to Phoenix. The next morning, we were woken by a bitter chill wind. We unexcitedly prepared our bodies and our bikes for the next 60 miles of biking. No one was eager to get back to riding, as we all desperately wanted a day to rest. But the road called to us, and we found ourselves miles away from the canyon within a matter of hours. We all expected our road back home to be filled with many effortless miles cruising down hill with ease, but today the wind would not have it. We faced 20 to 30 mile an hour winds all day. We crawled away from the canyon at a frustratingly slow pace. Late that afternoon we arrived at our campsite just outside of Williams, AZ, high on the Colorado Plateau. We quickly had a fire blazing and food cooking. Even though we had such a difficult day, our spirits were high. We even celebrated by picking up some Fat Tire beer to bring relief to our weary bones.
The wind died down and we stayed up late telling stories around the campfire. We prayed the wind would not come back at all and that we would enjoy the rest of our trip down the mountain back to Phoenix. We each climbed into our own tents happy that night. But around 3 am, the wind came back more violent than ever. I lay in my tent that morning praying that it would go away when the sun came up, but it only got worse. That morning we tried to get warm and stretch to loosen up before getting back on our bikes. But the wind made it impossible to warm up. At 7000 feet, the vicious wind chilled our bones. As soon as we started, we knew the day would be miserable. The wind refused to grant us passage. Even on one of the steepest down hills of the entire trek, we had to pedal to keep going. The wind blew us around like balloons in the wind as trucks whizzed by at 80 miles an hour. We each hoped that as soon as we got down the hill that the wind would die, but that never came. We crawled through each mile as the wind seemingly got worse and worse. We inched our way into the valley between Williams and Prescott, where the wind was absolutely terrible. It was like trying to ride your bike directly into a tornado. Tumbleweeds flew by on the road and we were pelted in the face with blowing dirt and debris. I think I heard the Wicked Witch of the West cackling away. At one point I seriously considered hitching a ride with a man who saw us struggling along and felt compassion on us by offering us a lift. It was not even so much that I was too tired, but I actually feared I would be blown over and into traffic. The narrow shoulder along this stretch seemed like a death trap. At one point I was leaning 30 degrees over to the right side of my bike to avoid being pushed into traffic. I consulted with the other riders if we should hop on the truck to go the rest of the way. But something inside me knew we just had to keep going. I think God was saying, "I've got you. Just keep going."
After returning home from the World Race, I enjoyed grabbing my bike and riding up and down the streets around my parents Phoenix home. Part of it was just to get out and be able to think about all the things I had just experienced, all the things I did not want to forget. Through the World Race, I had my eyes opened up to so much. I saw things I never would have imagined I would have seen. Some of which were incredibly beautiful. Miracles, divine providence, pure joy, and natural wonders continually amazed me during my travels. But there were also hardships, pain, natural disasters, things I can not understand. But I believe that the darkness is all part of God's magical creation, making the light stand out ever brighter.
These things were etched into my mind. And as I was riding my bike one day I really felt like God was nudging me. I felt inspired to do something big. And immediately the idea of riding my bike to the Grand Canyon and back came into my mind. I had thought of doing it before, but it never seemed feasible. It was always a little out there. But this time, I really thought it was God behind it.
I have always had a passion for the outdoors. Ever since I was a young boy and my dad would take me out into the wilderness camping, I loved being outside. I even celebrated one of my birthdays by going camping with my family. I think I got a slingshot that year for my birthday. My neighbors never slept easy after that. But I have always felt a strong connection with God while out in the wilderness. There is something about the quiet serenity of nature and the majesty of creation that always made me feel close with God. Before I left on the World Race, I spent 2 weeks traveling to national parks around Arizona, Utah, and Colorado, all by myself. It was a fantastic time to just be with God.
I believe that God wants to use our passions for His glory. That's why I think He wanted me to do this bike ride. But Biking Against Human Trafficking was certainly more than just a bike ride. God took my passion for the outdoors and adventure, and paired it with something. I saw only a part of the horrors of human trafficking, something I simply cannot forget. I wanted to be able to tell the story. And I wanted others to react and be a part of instituting change. He paired that with my desire for my generation to get out and have their own experience with God.
Following after God is rarely done with ease. The bike ride was no exception. I was immediately met with a lack of interest, or maybe doubt, would be a better word here. People's first reaction seemed to be doubt that I could even do it, and maybe doubt that it would actually happen. I'm sure most people figured it was just a passing fancy that would never flesh out. In my mind though, I had decided that even if I were the only one to go, I would still make it happen. But boy I was hoping it wouldn't come to that.
After several weeks of trying to get people on board with this thing, I finally got a response. On the same day, I received calls from both Stephanie Fisk and Clay Massey telling me they wanted to take part. That is when it started to gain some momentum. Stephanie really used her passion for fighting human trafficking to get all sorts of organizations involved. It was really amazing to see her work hard on this and see things fall into place. Clay suddenly became our gear supplier and resident mechanic. All sorts of people were getting excited about this in his home state of New Mexico. He even had churches donate about $3,000 without him ever asking for any. A few weeks later, Eric Retterbush came on board and put together a great website. Each person was taking his own giftings and passions and using them to really make this whole event come together.
But the real challenges came when the rubber actually hit the road and it was time to depart. Not one of us had ever done something like this. Most of us were only able to train beforehand just a few days. Stephanie was unable to ride a single day outside because of all the snow in Iowa. She was not even able to bring her own bike out here, but she had to borrow one from Clay. Eric Retterbush's bike broke two days before we left when his derailer (the thing that changes the gears) busted. The local mechanics refused to do anything with it and told him to buy a new bike. So we threw some road tires on my dad's mountain bike, giving us our four bikes.
The uphill and the distance were both challenges that we expected to face. But we met a few foes that we had overlooked or not expected altogether. Hiking the Grand Canyon turned out to be much more difficult than we ever anticipated. We hiked a trail off the beaten path that was much steeper than a normal Grand Canyon hike. For the first half-mile we were forced to pick our way slowly down the trail as it was still covered with snow and ice. Our heavy backpacks and our light tennis shoes made this section of the trail incredibly awkward and even dangerous. A slip on the ice could have us tumbling down the Grand Canyon. At this point, my knees were already hurting from all the repetitious pedaling on my bike. Now I had to hike down 9 very steep miles of trail.
Yesterday, Stephanie Fisk and I had the opportunity to do a radio interview together. It is about a 45 minute interview, and it was quite fun. I invite you guys to listen to it by clicking on this link. Stephanie and I got to talk about the upcoming bike ride, along with some of our experiences on the World Race... check it out!!!
Some of you might not know that we have also put together a separate website just for the Biking Against Human Trafficking event. Make sure to check that out as well.
We leave in a matter of days to embark on the big bike ride adventure! I am very excited about it!!!
