Since coming back to the United States from the World Race just over two months ago, I have been experiencing mountaintops and valleys all with the visual reminders of actual mountains as I have moved to Denver, Colorado. Denver has provided a place for me to process some of the events of the past year. I know I still have more to do, but I am thankful for the lessons the Lord has begun to reveal and unveil.

Most recently, I accompanied my best friend, Joel Chitwood, and one of his friends, Chris, on a winter mountain climbing adventure in the Sangre de Cristo range of southern Colorado. I have been hiking with Joel before, so I knew that some of the things to expect were lots of snow, lots of challenge and lots of beautiful scenery. However, experience on the World Race should have prepared for me for one more thing...God will use any opportunity to grow and stretch His beloved ones, including me!

The plan was to climb a 14,000 foot peak called Crestone Needle in one day and camp back at the trailhead for the night. The entire roundtrip was planned to be 6.25 miles with an elevation gain of approximately 3,000 feet and an estimated time of reaching the top of the Needle around 6pm (six hours after leaving the beginning of the trailhead). Our first indication that things would need to change occurred when we could not drive up to the trailhead because snow filled the road ahead of us, rendering even four wheel drive useless. Thus, we were required to hike an additional two miles to reach the planned trailhead, adding four miles and 2500 feet in elevation to our proposed trek. As we hiked the snowy road, eventually donning the snowshoes I reluctantly packed, frustration grew within my heart. The beauty of clear blue skies, sunshine reflecting off of snow-covered peaks, and crisp mountain air should have been enough to keep my heart singing. Instead, my attention was drawn to the slippery trail where every step forward seemed to slip back two steps, my inability to keep up with the two guys I was hiking with which diminished my struggling pride, and the continuing upward climb at this early stage which placed a large demand on my already burning lungs and muscles. 

    Chris and I at the beginning of the trail hike, still smiling!

Finally, we reached the original trailhead where we got the first glimpse of the Needle and as I looked up at the rocky mountain peak, with snow swirling of the top, shuddering in the cold wind and faced with the reality of the challenge, I felt my heart sink further. Almost everything within me screamed to turn around, to quit this insane journey: my mind, my muscles, even most of my heart. Yet there remained a still quiet voice that urged continuing on toward the challenge. I pushed all of my doubts to the back of my mind and determined to put one foot in front of the other as I gritted my teeth against pain and cold and negativity. Gritting my teeth should have been my first clue that I wasn't approaching this hike with the right attitude...

                                                                                      The first view of the Needle...

Soon, we reached even deeper snow, where I fell in numerous times up to my hips. As I tried to pull myself out of the snow, I would only sink further as I could not find any solid footing beneath me. At this point, my fear of failure, my pride, my frustration in the midst of the physical struggle were all surrounding me, rising higher and higher, leering at me, pointing accusing fingers into my wounded, fearful heart. Questions within my own heart soon began to rise to the surface of my mind: "Is this even who I am? Do I even like climbing mountains? How do I ever think I'll be able to handle more challenges from the Lord or even be a part of His Kingdom if I cannot withstand the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual tests of this climb?" The struggle within became so intense that soon my battle became outwardly apparent to my climbing companions as I began to cry, swear, yell, punch the snow and refuse to continue. 

As I sat on the side of the mountain, wallowing in what appeared to be my discomfort and inability to complete this challenge, Joel approached me and told me, "I don't care about summiting this mountain. The only joy I have in it is to complete it with you and Chris."

I responded, "I don't care. Just leave me here. You can find me when you come back down after summiting. I'm done." 

"Summer, I know that deep within there is part of you that wants to complete this. If you quit now, I know you'll wish you hadn't. I'm not going to go up if you don't. I'm going to stay right here." 

"YOU DON'T KNOW ME. YOU'RE A JERK AND I'M NOT CLIMBING ANYMORE OF THIS MOUNTAIN! I'M DONE. I'M SO DONE!!"

After sitting quietly seething for a while on the mountain staring at the top of the mountain, which was now also starting to leer at me, I looked at Joel and said, "The only reason I'm going to keep climbing this mountain is because I know that if I don't you won't. That's it. It's not because I love this or because I have strength or because I want to see the top. It's only because of YOU." (That last part was said with a lot of anger, spit, malice, and rage.) With that, I dug my frozen hands into the snow and crawled, crying and sobbing with snot dripping out of my nose, foot by frozen foot along the treacherous snow chutes until I could pull myself into the saddle of the mountain. By this time, the sun was setting, filling the clouds with a beautiful yellow light and drawing the brown hues of the mountains to brilliance with the contrast of the shimmering snows dusting the rocky ridges. (I was still completely distraught and refusing to take one step to look at the sight as I huddled into the shadow of the mountain to shovel in the sustenance of the hiker's trail mix I was jealously guarding in my gloved hands.)  While the guys ate food, joked, and marveled at the beauty surrounding them, I glared at them and reminded them yet again, "I'm not going any further unless we are headed down the mountain and toward the car." Finally, it was deemed time to hike back down the mountain and I felt I was returning a different person. I have to admit, I felt a bit ashamed of my behavior, yet at the same time I felt triumphant.

                                                                    This is the face of someone who is READY TO BE DONE!

I had looked at what felt like death straight in the face, swearing, crying, and behaving like a screaming, tantrum-throwing toddler, yet God was working. Throughout the entire experience, the Enemy shouted, "You're incapable! Joel is ashamed of you! You're not worthy! You can't do this! How do you think you'll make it if you go to North Africa in the desert and the mountains if you can't make it here? You might as well GIVE UP." Oh, but the Lord is so faithful! He would whisper, "This is training for North Africa. It won't be easy there, but you will make it if you keep your eyes focused on me. Keep going, Daughter. My strength is made perfect in weakness." I had to incline my ear to really hear Him over the other screaming, yet His quiet voice had given me strength to train my eyes on the heights of the mountain, gaze to heaven, and propel myself toward the peak.

"God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." 1 Corinthians 10:13

(I will be going to Spain and North Africa with Youth With A Mission (YWAM) in January for a Discipleship Training School (DTS) that finishes in July. If you would like to stay connected with or support me, I have a different blog:  http://globalsummer.blogspot.com/ where you can subscribe to my blog updates and donate as well. Thank you!)

During this month of fasting from ministry, I have been going back to the beginning with Jesus. Somewhere along the way I forgot that everything – all the reasons I am out here on the World Race, the reasons I interact with people, the reasons I run, the very reasons I exist – depends on Love, and not just any love but the perfect Love of my Savior. I am not out here to see miracles, I am not out here to see how many people give their lives to Jesus, I am not out here to please people back home, I am not out here to find my purpose, I am not out here to feel good about serving for a year, I am not out here to be an example, I am not out here to look like someone who has it all together...because I don't. The reason I am out here is to learn how to be loved by my Savior and to love Him in return. Sounds simple and stupid at the same time, right? "You mean you went all the way around the world just to be loved and love in return? Sounds like a sound byte from ‘Moulin Rouge'." The quick answer, "Yep, and I don't think I even did all that good of a job, because it took me 10 months of trying to fill my quota of ministries and people prayed for in order to STOP and finally sit at the feet of my Savior to get acquainted with the Person I am supposed to be bringing around the world." People don't need more of me. They need more of Him – the perfect love that casts out all fear.

Maybe the greater miracles aren't the lengthening of limbs or physical eyes seeing (although these are great gifts). Maybe the greater miracles are the changes within hearts, the moments when we reach out to connect on the heart level with people, whether through prayer or coffee or conversation and love is communicated. Then, maybe the big mountains really begin to move (Matthew 17:20). I think on this Race, these are the things I have seen that have really encouraged my heart – the opportunities to breathe life by just being a daughter of God, an ambassador of Christ, the will of God in the world. Perhaps that is the only place my heart needs to be as I ready myself to walk back into the country I call home – a place of knowing Jesus' love and being ready to pour it out on needy hearts (which may be friends/family/myself). I think Dave Matthews said it best in his song "Everyday" when he wrote:

"All you need is, All you want is, All you need is Love. All you need is, what you want is, all you need is Love. 

Everyday, everyday, everyday." 

All I really have to give and receive in this life is Jesus and His love.

"Sólo el sangre de Jesucristo tiene el poder para romper tus cadenas."

It struck me so powerfully that I wrote down the Spanish line in my car, in my journal and recited it to myself numerous times. At the time, there was no logical reason for the influence this phrase exhibited in my mind. I can only attribute its power to the work that God was doing in my life to break off the chains of disappointment, rejection, and loneliness, which had come from a series of recently broken relationships. In allowing God to show me His power to restore my heart and set me free, I opened the door of my heart to accepting God's overwhelming love despite all of my past mistakes (even as a "Christian"). I didn't know that God was in the beginning of the process of showing me how His love is more than enough for me and it is all I truly need while also breaking off restraints so that I could begin to actually believe Him.

Now, coming into ministry in Palenque, Mexico, I have the opportunity to use my Spanish to communicate with people around me. As a result, my team has asked me to be one of the translators throughout our ministry as we preach in various settings. Last week, we planned to go to a prison to perform a drama and to speak before the inmates. The skit we perform is called, "Set Me Free." It dramatizes a girl who is plagued by the troubles of life that have chained her and the only way she can find freedom is through the power of Christ. As I wrote out a description of this skit in Spanish to present to the inmates, the same phrase, "Sólo el sangre de Jesucristo tiene el poder para romper tus cadenas," came to mind and made sense to say both for the skit and for the audience! Eagerly, I scribbled down a paragraph description and ended it with the meaningful phrase that I could simply read before the men.

Upon arriving at the prison and settling into our seats, the wind picked up and promptly whisked my perfectly written paragraph out of my Bible, propelling it across the prison yard to an unknown location...without my knowing until I was prepared to walk up to the podium to talk about the skit we had just watched! So much for preparation... I walked to the front, Spanish phrases rumbling through my mind, hands trembling, insides doing somersaults, watching a microphone being placed in my hand...and all thoughts left my head as I looked at the faces of the inmates. I mean, truly searched the contours of tear-stained cheeks, the piercing gazes of darkened eyes clinging, clamoring and hungering for truth. I uttered a few forgettable sentences describing the skit and then, as if the mind and voice of God had filled my body, I, forcefully, practically spat out the phrase, "Sólo Jesucristo tiene el poder para romper tus cadenas," which landed with an almost audible thud into the hearts of the men as a chorus of "Amen," and "Aleluya," flooded my ears and smiles broke out on faces once awash in tears.

I come to you as a broken vessel, in tears as I write of the beauty I found in a barren prison yard in Palenque, Mexico with the lone message that ONLY God has the power to bring true freedom.  

This blog continues from a previous blog titled, "What am I here for?" from May 31, 2009. Please read it first before reading this one to understand what has preceded this story.

It started out as a night of street evangelism with the purpose of distributing fliers for a live music night at the café where our team is working for the month in Split, Croatia. After distributing fliers and having a handful of somewhat superficial conversations with various people lounging around the city squares, I sat down, wondering where to go next. At that moment, the quote, "It's hard to direct a ship when it's not moving," passed through my mind.

In response, I started walking around the square and my eyes roved through the people: a couple I had already talked to, a fast-moving group of girls, a woman begging on the corner... "Should I really approach her? No...WAIT A MINUTE. WHAT AM I HERE FOR???" I quickly did a 90 degree turn and made a beeline for her. I couldn't communicate with her as she only spoke Croatian, but I mimed to her that I had no money and I would like to pray for her. She nodded and I managed to understand that her name was Elena. I laid hands on her and as I prayed in English, tears streamed down her face. After I finished praying, I hugged her and said goodbye.

When I met up with my teammate, Joel, later, he said to me, "Imagine how many times she has been passed by, even by those who do give her money. It's not the money that she is seeking, but love." Honestly, I had been wondering why she started crying and I hadn't thought about her experiences of being passed by. Once I started to think about her life, I was filled with a pain and sadness I don't think I have ever allowed myself to feel before. Then, I started to think about the numerous times I have passed by beggars, pretending not to see them or denying that I had anything to offer them. I thought of Jesus and how He responded to the poor in spirit and how differently I have been acting.

Here's the end result: I still have NO IDEA how to respond in the future, aside from how I responded this time, with prayer and love. I still have NO IDEA what to do with Elena's pain, but give it to Jesus. In short, I am at a loss. I know I will never forget Elena's dark eyes filled with pain and sunken into her pale white face. I will never forget her tear-stained cheeks looking for something that only Jesus can ultimately give her. I will never forget how she found a place in my heart.

When I was in Tanzania, I met a girl from Minnesota named Jory and she wrote me an awesome note in which she wrote, "...in Africa and specifically among the Masai in Tanzania, your presence has made such a difference. Pieces of God's heart that have been longing to come back to Him have been restored through what was begun here." When I first got the note, the first part of the above statement about making a difference was a great encouragement. Now, I am processing the part talking about pieces of God's heart.

  (Hills surrounding Split, Croatia)

How does this story relate to pieces of God's heart? Each person has a unique spot to fill in God's heart. While He loves us all the same amount, He does love us in different ways. As I have been pondering this truth, I have also been thinking that God's heart is filled by simply believing in Jesus – sort of like a puzzle piece or an animal's position on Noah's ark. Instead, I have been discovering that as God continues to develop me into the person He has created me to be and as I accept who I am and the great calling He has for my life, more of the piece that I am in God's heart returns to Him. Some of the things I am learning are that I am His daughter, His bride, a prophet to the nations, an encourager, a bold warrior in the Kingdom of the Lord.

WHO HAS GOD CALLED YOU TO BE?

(This would be a perfect opportunity to participate by answering the above question in the comments.)

"You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men..." (Matthew 5:14-15a)

I am adding onto the joy of my running saga. From my previous blog, I wrote about meeting women who spoke Spanish in a Romanian village. Two days ago, I reunited with one of them, named Crina, while I was running alone. She and I spoke alongside the dirt-paved road for at least 15 minutes. Then, she asked, "What are you doing in Romania?"

I told her, "I'm here to talk with people about Jesus Christ."

Her eyebrows shot up as she questioned, "Really?"

-BREAK-

At this point, my mind was a little worried. Did I say too much? Did I offend her? Why the raised eyebrows? She has given more response than most of the people around this village when I mention my purpose here in Romania. Why is that?

 

Two days later, I found her at her house. As soon as I entered and she had poured me some coffee, she sat across from me at the table and with an urgent intensity, said, "I am a Christian – not Orthodox. I understand you." I was amazed. After some discussion, I understood that she had no community in this village or friends who believed in Jesus. She was greatly encouraged to talk and share stories with me. I realized with blazing intensity that she is the reason I have been running through her village with such regularity. It is her heart that the Lord longs to encourage. I was amazed that He would put me in this place with such a sense of "randomness." The only reason I found this village in the first place was because I went running with my teammate, Joel, to find a way into the hills around Arcalia. I started speaking Spanish because of some other women who spoke Spanish. I went running that day just to go running. Yet, this light on the hill, Crina, needed some encouragement to keep her light burning for the village to see. God, in His compassion, provided for her spiritual needs and could be opening more doors for her to get connected with the community in Arcalia.

The Summer Saga of Running continues...only this time it doesn't have as much to do with falling (although it has still happened), but more to do with how God is using running to reach people for Him.

In Ukraine, I went on prayer runs through a village called Yasnia. On the last day that I would be able to run in the village, I decided to run by myself. As I ran, the normal doubts plagued my mind, like "Is this really doing anything? Should I have brought a translator in case I have the opportunity to talk to someone? Am I really listening to you, God?" This day, I decided to push those ideas out of my head and continue on, even if nothing appeared to happen just like every other day. This day would prove to be different, though. On my way out of the village, I greeted a babushka (grandmother) and she stopped, so I stopped. She immediately began speaking quickly in Russian (which I do not understand). I shook my head, as in "I don't understand," but she continued to talk. Then, she was crying and then she was hugging me and kissing my cheek! After about 10 more minutes of her talking and me listening, she said "Goodbye," but then she waited at the top of the hill waving at me as I continued my run until she couldn't see me anymore. While I have no idea what was going on with her, I have no doubt that she needed love and God set up that appointment for the day.

  (Romanian countryside)

Also, in Romania, some teenage girls who come to our afternoon kids' program found out that I like to go running. So, almost every day around 5:00pm, the girls come to the house where we are all staying and want to go running or walking. They don't speak much English, so we spend most of the run either in silence or figuring out some kind of charades or broken language Pig Latin to communicate. All I know is that I feel life from the Lord filling me and reflecting His love to these girls.

I have been greatly encouraged by these God encounters and how He uses the things I love to do in my life to advance His purposes and shed His light upon people I encounter. The cool thing? If He uses me in my life, then I know He uses you in your life too – you just have to look for opportunities.