The Worst Hour of my Life

My sisters and I just finished watching Pixar’s Onward. Without giving any spoilers, it’s a typical Pixar movie that’ll make you cry, this one’s climax involving a very emotional hug. Watching it, I was immediately brought back to my final days in Thailand:

After getting the email informing us we were going home, I felt pretty okay–I wasn’t happy about it but I was at peace with God’s decision. My team then traveled to a hub where we’d meet up with the rest of the squad and wait until travel plans could be made to get us home. While waiting for the other teams to arrive, the twelve of us began to worship God together in song and prayer, and a flood of emotions hit me. I suddenly realized just how angry and sad and scared and confused I was. I just sat in silence while everyone around me sang, wondering what in the world had just happened. When they began singing I Raise a Hallelujah (which has been our squad song ever since Training Camp) I tried to join them but I physically couldn’t make myself say the word hallelujah. I knew I should praise God despite my sorrows, but it was the last thing in the world I wanted to do.

This was hands down the hardest couple of hours in my life. Spiritually and emotionally I had never been more broken. I can only recollect one time ever being mad at God, but that moment pales in comparison to what I was feeling then. I wasn’t necessarily angry at God, but I was so lacking in energy that the last thing I wanted to do was reach out to Him.

Praise God that He was reaching out to me through His children. My newly appointed team leader brought me back from my innermost thoughts with a tap on the knee. Apparently we were taking turns praying over the person to our left. I’d been so lost in thought and emotion that I’d had no idea what was going on around me. I really can’t explain what happened as he prayed for me, only that I was given a joy and peace that only the Father can bring. The sorrow and anger were still there, but now so was my faith in His love. When he hugged me I really had to fight to keep from losing it, and when he finished praying I knew there was no way I was going to be able to pray for my next neighbor without bursting into tears. I just stood there dazed and confused without any idea of what to do. Finally she initiated things and I was able to keep it mostly together long enough to pray for her. Thanking God for His love for her, and asking that He continue to watch over and bless her, was the final tonic I needed to get my eyes off myself and gazing towards Him.

The World Race has been the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to surrender. Normally when God reveals to me something I’m holding onto a little too tightly I’m able to surrender it once and that’s the end of it. But this surrender has had to be an ongoing process that has lasted less than a month but has felt like half a year. I’m finding there are still moments where I have to fight against my flesh and hand it over to God to do with what He deems best. 

That I was given something so sweet and special as the World Race and my squad and then have them taken away from me (hopefully only for a few months) has been nothing short of a divine work. Being able to let go of something holy and good is something I needed to learn, and praise God that He is the living and patient Teacher.