Another great World Race testimony from Chelsea DiPaola…
Each year Samuel’s mother made him a little robe and took it to him when she went up with her husband to offer the annual sacrifice. 1 Samuel 2:19
It’s insanely scary to stand at the beginning of an epic, staring over the abyss, with absolutely no idea what the adventure will hold. During the midst of my panic at launch, Michael Hindes, the director of the World Race, told us that our willingness to change would be the lynchpin to ushering the Kingdom in during our time. He told us that God puts new challenges on us that we must grow into, just like Samuel’s mother made him the new robe every year. I heard truth in his words, but I had no idea how big of a transition I would go through during the next eleven months.
The first month of the Race was mostly terrible for me. The adjustment was extremely difficult. I dreaded every night sleeping in my tent during hurricanes. I hated the fact that relationships were so awkward, but most people were faking it. I cried because I was flying to Romania and not home when we went to the airport for the first time as a squad.
As the months went on, things improved. I loved ministry, saw God work, and started to develop deeper relationships with my teammates. Little by little I got better at adjusting to shattered expectations and new situations. Then we hit month four in Israel. It was the month that I was most looking forward to, but once we got there, it was mostly a disappointment.
My worst day of the World Race was the day before Thanksgiving. Our squad went out into the Negev to worship, and I literally sat there for two hours crying my eyes out. I was lonely. I was tired. I was homesick. I was done. My squad leader Aaron told me that it was worth it, that God was doing something huge in my life. I struggled to believe him.
A few days later, we were in Istanbul, and I was having a breakfast date with my squad mate and dear friend Priscilla. She asked me how things were going, and I told her straight up, “I don’t think I’ve changed at all. Four difficult months have gone by, and I’m the same person. What’s the point?”
Sitting here, seven months later, I can safely say that I’m not the same person as I was that day or the day that I left for the Race. So much has changed.
Africa broke me down. I think because people are struggling to survive much of the time, there isn’t really much of an opportunity to present things other than exactly the way that they are. Believers there know they are weak. They know that they live each day hanging by a thread held by God. This kind of attitude is contagious. I want to bring this attitude home with me and encourage people to shout their problems from the rooftop.
I believe that this transparency is what God requires from us for us to be able to experience his redemption. In Uganda I had a terrible dream that set me on a two-month course of digging up dirt from my life and laying it out before God and others. It was really hard, but experiencing God’s complete healing and redemption and acceptance was addictive for me.
One night after I had spent a lot of time coming clean before God, I experienced God in an amazing and intimate way, and I felt like it was his stamp of approval, his way of showing me that the more of myself that I give to him, the more of himself he’ll give to me. Many of those days I felt like God was taking a piece of steel wool and scrubbing me raw from the inside out. I had to confront stuff that I never wanted to deal with, that I had talked myself into believing I had dealt with. I had to have hard conversations, seek forgiveness from people I had wronged, and in general do things that I didn’t want to do. It was like forcing myself to take cough syrup. I didn’t love it, but I knew it was good for me, and I was compelled to see the process through to the end.
Before I came on the World Race I was mostly a brat. I took Jesus’ sacrifice for granted. I was lazy about sin. I did what I wanted and abused God’s love and grace. I constantly compared myself to other people to make myself feel better-what I did wasn’t that bad, and look at all the things I’m sacrificing for God. That must please Him. I remember in September at the Awakening Conference when Andrew Shearman was talking about sacrificing and how it should be a joy, and back then I didn’t quite get it.
My perspective has completely changed. Any sacrifice that I feel like I’m making pales in comparison to the one that Jesus made on my behalf. This year as I’ve experienced God’s power and redemption in my own life, I’ve come to realize more and more what a privilege it is to be able to carry that same message of redemption and help bring others into that reality.
I’m throwing caution to the wind and listening carefully to what God is telling me to do. I’ve known for a long time that I’m called to international missions for at least some part of my life. I used to be excited but also dread the day when that call would become a reality in my life. I’ll be honest; I don’t want to live away from my family, to depend on the support of others, to deal with the annoyances of living in a foreign place. There have been times even on the World Race when I’ve cried because I know the life God is calling me to isn’t going to be a cakewalk.
There are days when I’m afraid. I feel like a little girl, so incapable of doing anything of substance. But I have a faithful God to fall back on. I have such confidence these days. There have been many moments over the past few months when I’ve surprised myself. I’ve been called upon and without hesitation I’ve spoken God’s words, sang his songs, and walked out His will for me.
There have been a lot of moments in the past few months when I’ve thought back to Ireland when I put on the new coat that was too big. I’ve thought about how that coat fits me now. How have I grown into it? If I try to summarize the whole year and all the growth that’s happened, my head explodes. I’ve grown in patience. In believing the power of prayer. In obedience. In speaking life and holding fast to truth. In confidence in my spiritual gifts.
There was the time in Uganda when we went to Nancy’s house and Pastor Stephen said that “the evangelists” had a word to share. That meant it was my turn to speak. I opened my mouth and God used me to speak a word of renewal to her entire family. I thought about how earlier in the year I wouldn’t have been able to speak out with such confidence.
I’ve learned how to use my singing for the Lord. I don’t have the best voice, but I can sing, and I can use it to bring God’s presence into a room. One time in Vietnam, some of us were at a home for cancer patients. One of the ladies there told us that she wanted each one of us to sing a solo. At an earlier point in the Race, I would have been loath to sing by myself for a bunch of people. I belted out “Trading My Sorrows” and was able to bring joy into that room.
And most recently, as we went out into the bars and ministered to the women working there, I felt used by God like never before. I went into the last month feeling completely spent. The World Race wears you out, and I felt that every single day this past month. Most days were a struggle. Despite my inadequacy, and maybe even because of it, God amazingly led me to Pai and used me to play a part in His story for her life.
When I look back over the past year, it’s incredible to think about everything that I’ve encountered and conquered. I won’t lie; I get scared thinking about going home. I don’t want to have to trade this in for a bigger challenge. If I’m being honest though, I know that this coat is too tight now-I’ve outgrown it. The best thing is that I have this past year of stories of God’s faithfulness to remind myself of for when I put on a new coat and it seems like too much to handle. It never will be.
