Wandering Jaimee: May 2015

I saw the message on my screen and my heart leaped. An international running race in the place I love. Right in the heart of Uganda. I sent the link off to my friends and asked them if any of the former street boys they work with might be interested. Running fever swept them up hard and fast and I shared in their excitement and anticipation of running in their very first race. I wanted to join them, but I knew I couldn’t. It was impossible, it was too expensive, it was too busy at work, I was going to be overseas just a few weeks before and that was just going to be too much traveling. Still they asked, would I come? I said no. God said yes. My faith it turns out, was far too small. I forgot that I serve a God who likes to remind me that dreams are not impossible things. One by one all those impossible reasons fell away; my boss said yes, funding for a flight came unexpectedly, and I knew deep in my bones that this was meant to be, even if flying clear across the world for a few short days seemed like a crazy thing to do.

The day of the race, adrenaline was pumping. I remembered back to my first long distance race. I didn’t know what to expect or how to channel all this unfamiliar adrenaline or how to recognize and manage the differences between a training run and a race. And I saw all those same things in these boys who have become so special to me. I wanted to tell them, and to some of them I tried, but sometimes there are things in life that must be experienced to be truly understood. They ran hard and they ran well. I ran too, but not as fast as them, and that’s ok. We all had fun, but I think for most of them it was a learning experience. They learned what endurance means. What it means to keep on running even when everything inside you tries to make you believe quitting is the only option. They learned to overcome. But they also learned how hard long distance running can be, how important training is, to build up not only the physical endurance required to run a long distance race, but also the mental stamina. Training didn’t seem so important until they were halfway through the race and presented with finding endurance within themselves.

They, and I, we both lived a dream. Felt the sweet success of crossing a finish line. But they also found out that sometimes dreams look different than we thought they might. They are harder, and longer, and more full of steep and unrelenting hills that none of us feel like climbing. And sometimes when we arrive at the finish line, we are full of disappointment. We did it, but we wanted to do better. We didn’t win the race, it was harder than we thought and perhaps we wonder if all that effort was really even worth it. But I want them to know, it was. They made me proud. They were victorious even if they didn’t feel like they were. Sometimes victory lies not in winning the race but in overcoming the struggle. They did their best, and their running and their lives have taught me to turn my eyes to the heavens and trade all of my dreams for His. Even if they look different and go down roads that are longer and harder than I want to travel. They remind me to keep. on. running. We can’t all win the race, but we can run with endurance, we can lead by becoming less. The people of Uganda, they teach me to love. To be aware of those who run around me. To invest in their pain. To be a person of the Word.

“Because People of the Word are to be for the voiceless, to stand with the silenced, to never make pain out to be invisible, as injustice is intolerable. Because People of the Church are to be those who stand up so safe places open up, who lead by always going lower, who expose and confront abuse everywhere they find it, so the hope of the Gospel can be of use anywhere it goes."- Ann Voskamp