The Gospel Race

You’ve trained your whole life and now you’ve made it; the Olympics are within reach. The entire summer you’ve set the morning to run and the afternoon to lift weights in preparation for the physically straining times ahead. Now you are an official participant of a running race and are planning your next moves fairly strategically.

            As the days approach, you think you have the entire route memorized and every hurdle’s position learned. The entire map of your run is set to memory and you feel strong and confident in your upcoming events.

            It’s race day and you still have the map in your mind. You know where to jump, where to turn, the “secret passages”, and everything else you believe your components wish they knew. You begin to run and things are going just as you have planned. You see people falling behind you and snicker. You feel on top of the world.

            Another bend and you realize you don’t know where you’re going. The trail of the race has taken an unexpected twist and you find yourself bewildered because it wasn’t in the plan. You stop and try to look for a sign, something that will show you that you’re going in the right direction, but there’s nothing. You still have energy to spare so you continue the race. You come to believe that the officials changed the route a little so that no one could cheat their way to the top. You don’t want to give up because you’ve trained so hard; nothing is going to stop you from finishing victorious.

            You’re near the end and see the finish line approaching. As you cross, you remember how, when the change in the trail occurred, you stopped and you beat yourself up for it because you know you should have kept going. You could have run faster. All this fades now as you see the man coming with your trophy. You’ve won.

            Just like this race, we are running a race as well. God has prepared us and “trained” us to be His disciples. When running a race in the Olympics, some small change wouldn’t stop you from running harder and faster. God has our path all marked out. We believe we have a plan for our lives and know what we want to do and where we wish to go, but God’s plans could be different. We can’t let changes in our lives hurt our chances of “winning” our gospel race. There is something that’s different in God’s race however because in His race, everyone who crosses the finish line wins. God’s race doesn’t call for you to pass others falling with a chuckle, but to stop and help them up reminding them of the prize at the end.

            God is calling you to be an advocate for His race. He promises you that, even though there may be changes in the route, He will reward you a great prize at the end; eternal life.

The Life-Changing Room: PART FOUR

            2 more hours passed before we were escorted to our car and then back into Canada. The house that we have been living in for over 4 years, still full with furniture, clothes, and appliances, would now be desolate from any from of moving life. Our school was left behind along with our friends and acquaintances. The tears never ceased to flow as the trip prolonged.

            We approached the Canadian border once more, "You know you have to do something with this car? I'm going to have to guide you over to that building over there and they'll tell you what you need to do."

            We knew this was going to happen. My mom still had payments to pay on her Pontiac so the border is entailed to impound it until we are able to finish paying the expenses. Parking the car, we didn't even need to exit before guards were at the driver's window asking questions. Someone looked familiar. It was a woman. She looked with compassion and seemed to understand what was happening. YES! It as the Canadian lady we had talked to while first entering the country. She knew our situation and with the sympathy instilled in her heart, she waved us off with our car reminding us that if we couldn't make the payments soon, we would eventually have to do something about it.

           

            This life experience left my whole family and me in the dark. We are still trying to figure out what we are going to do about school (which is SO different it would be practically impossible to finish here), about our house there, about my mom's job…we're blind to the future.

            You hear about people who lose everything, they have no hope and their life is falling apart, so they decide to take their own life. Without God, I'm sure something like that would happen to me (maybe not as life-threatening as that, but something that would eternally hurt me). God is so good. He gives me peace at heart as everything is shattered. He knows how to reconstruct for the better. I don’t understand how this will end up benefitting anyone, but God does. He sees the future, whether tomorrow or the end of time. I am given hope, willingness to use my circumstances for Him, and ever-growing patience! It's extremely hard, but worth it. Prayers are constantly being sent above for guidance and for the salvation of lives due to our pain here on earth.

The Life-Changing Room: PART THREE

            Friday morning we were packed, loaded, and out by 10am heading to the Detroit border. As the car ride continued, the vehicle grew increasingly silent. The car rolled to the gates and my mom entered the building to return our temporary living slips we were given to live there the extra 10 days. She returned to us with a gruesome look on her face as she announced that the guards there weren't going to allow us to cross; they required us to drive back to the border that first denied our visas, Port Huron. Another hour and a half later we arrived at the gates. We had to go to the same border and the same person that first denied us to try and get it renewed again. This is impossible. There is no way that the person who first denied us so discourteously will have a change of heart.

            Crossing into Canada was a breeze since they didn't want us in America anyway. We explained to the Canadian lady our predicament and she understood our condition. She gave us hope as she explained that we should try to schedule an appointment while Tim wasn't there (the guy who denied us first). We thanked her as she wished us the best of luck and we were on our way.

            Half an hour into Canada I was given an idea; my mom should call the Port Huron Customs and see if Tim was in. If he was in that afternoon, then she could always come back at a different time. She took this into consideration and made the call. After a few moments our vehicle was turning around and heading back in the direction of the gates. With the car still pin-drop still, we came to the border once again, this time being walked over to the building which would determine our entire future.

            "Phones and all other electronics are to stay in the vehicle! You can take your wallets and money, but nothing else," they directed as we piled out and into, once again, the "secondary inspection" room.

            This place brought back terrible memories. Cold faces glared back at us as if they had no heart or sense of kindness within them. Silence crept with the occasional tapping of keys on the computer. A voice finally vocalized asking my mom for the papers she brought this time around, "Why do you think you should qualify now if we have already denied you? We shouldn't even be taking this case! You should have scheduled an appointment with the man who first denied you! He's the one who knows all there is about visas and you obviously didn't meet the criteria then! We can schedule you an appointment with him, but we're not going to process you today."

            Stunned, my mother reluctantly agreed and the man went to get Tim's schedule to place us in for an appointment.

            A lady with a familiar face appeared with fire sweltering from her eyes, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!? Why do you have the nerve to come in here and waste our time!?! You don't qualify and that isn't going to change!"

            My brothers and I glared at each other, each of us itching to lash out and illustrate to that woman what she rightfully deserved. Horror moved stealthily into my being as tears permeated my eyes. The officers turned there back as if not to notice a young girl sobbing in her rather uncomfortable chair. Discussing for a moment then fiercely looking into our eyes, they had the nerve to deny us the meeting with Tim and also the requested meeting with the supervisor.

The Life-Changing Room: PART TWO

            We weren't to tell anyone about our predicament. My mom had a plan to try to get them back; her work hired a lawyer right away and prepared to fight their reason for us not receiving the paper (that my mom needed a 2 year degree for her job, even though she's worked with the company for 12 years). My nerves were itching and I was relatively quiet at school the following day. When I conversed with my dad I longed to explain to him our predicament and pray with him, but I was restricted.

            The next day my mom gave us the OK to spill to our friends and teachers what was happening. She figured there was a chance that we wouldn't be returning, so she wanted us to advise our teachers in case we didn't return. My teachers were devastated and reminded me to not lose faith. They encouraged me by saying that wherever I am placed, I will go far; but they hoped I would come back. My friends cried. During lunch, my best friend Mirna was awfully quiet and as we were leaving the cafeteria, I saw tears stream down her face as she turned away.

            Our last week passed by slowly. We packed nothing in hope of returning. My friends tried to hang out with me as much as possible before my departure. Homework didn't lessen, but neither did my effort. I continued to keep up with everything in anticipation of my return.

            My last day was hard! My best friend Emily brought me a "We Will Miss You" balloon and in my French class (the last hour of the day) people brought in snacks and we had a little going away party. My teacher informed me that if I returned I would be the one who needed to bring in food for the rest of the class. After school ended, I went to my friend Nadine's house with Emily, Mirna, and Stephanie. We ate 2 of the 7 pizzas and talked the rest of the night. Pictures were taken, and as we all departed Nadine's, tears were shed. It finally hit me that that moment could be the last time I see my friends. Emily's mom cried when she dropped me off at my house. It was a bad day all around.