Church on the World Race.

For much of my life, I pictured church as the building. It was the place on Sunday we went to here stories and sing songs. As I got older, I realized that it was the people. That’s what the Bible says at least. And as I grew further in my faith, I saw the church in the light of more potential. Still, it’s hard to gain new perspectives on Christian life while living in American culture. I did not know how countercultural the church is supposed to be until I moved into another culture.

Stepping away from the normalcy of living in the United States, my squad was able to turn being the church into a tangible experience. No longer was church the place on Sundays, but it became the people living a lifestyle. It wasn’t a body of believers who shake hands before the service and then rush home to a nice afternoon nap after the sermon. It was a group of people who wake up together, eat together, work together, live together, and sleep together. We learned to seek each other out for support. We became an army of intercessory prayer warriors. We learned how to affirm our siblings in the growth we see. We know how to take feedback and give it. We can work out problems through conflict resolution because we do indeed love each other. Love. It is not surface level. These people have my back and I know I can trust them when I open up to be vulnerable because we all have the same Spirit within us.

Our squad is full of leaders. Some of us are teachers who can reveal the Words of God through the Scripture. Some of us are intense worshippers that have no shame to shout praise any time, any place. Some of us pray with true intimacy and sincere love for the church and her bridegroom. Some of us are the hands and feet: the definition of being humble-hearted servants. I have loved being a part of this church that loves to come along our brothers and sisters around the world. We have been to local Spanish-speaking churches in Peru and Guatemala. We have attended Shoreline City’s campus in Antigua. We have joined YWAM and local Khmer believers for nights of worship and teaching. But the best church I’ve ever experienced is life on the World Race. Not organized weekly services, not long-held traditions or expectations: only constant worship and boldness to listen for the Holy Spirit and persevere after the Father together.

As the Race ends, I have been thinking back to all the times the Spirit has moved through our church. All the worship sessions on the roofs, all the quick meetings that turned into spontaneous worship and an outpouring of words, all our New Years declarations. I reminisce to when the teams exclaimed truth on those Guatemalan Monday nights or sang with passion on those Dunamis stairs. Here’s an old video of us working at Dunamis in Ecuador. Good times and better memories..