There is a really great organization called World Vision. I won’t go into tons of detail about their mission for the sake of brevity. There’s a link at the bottom of this post. Every year they have an event called the Global 6k Walk for Water (GWFW). Last year was the first time I participated and I was a bit shocked by how emotional it can be. Registration includes a race bib that has the picture and name of the sponsored child. The funds raised go toward providing fresh, clean water for that child.
Why a 6k? In third world countries six kilometres, approximately 3.7 miles for those of us in the States, is the average distance someone will walk to get their daily supply of water. Average. Some are walking more than that. And they aren’t lining up for a bountiful spring of sweet, clear sustenance. Most will fill their jars from stagnant, polluted pools. It’s rather sobering to think about. We complain if we have to wait too long for a toilet at the movie theater bathroom.
This year I signed up the day the call went out for walkers. My Mom signed up as well and we planned to do the event together as we had last year. I got my packet in the mail and cried over the small face that stared at me from my race bib. Saneliso, age 12, Swaziland. The date was circled on the calendar and so I waited.
Enter the Pandemic.
Events already plotted, planned, and paid were having race permits pulled by municipalities struggling to cope with a situation they didn’t see coming. Race directors had options: defer registrations to a later event, refund everyone’s money, or make the race virtual. I had seven races lined up over the course of twelve weeks. The first one refunded as did the last one. The five in between went virtual.
So what is virtual racing? The participant records the distance agreed upon with a tracker of some sort. My app of choice is Strava. Once the distance is complete, the runner takes a screen shot of their course and submits it to the race director for review. If the race bling has not been sent beforehand, it will then be sent via mail. Money is still made for the charity supported, fitness has been had, bragging rights are vocalized, and Facebook has another set of runfies and hashtags. (Runfie: the selfie achieved after a run. Mine look like I’m dying.)
The cool thing about some of the events going virtual is the window of opportunity for sponsorship. The MS Walk I did is accepting donations until September. (It was a 5k, I ran a half marathon. po-tay-to, po-tah-to.) There’s a virtual going right now that supports my beloved C&O Canal. I’ll be “running” that one with Oldest and Run Buddy. I’m not the best fundraiser. I hate asking people for money when I may not have it myself. But I’ll support World Vision every year.
No organized race event means no course support, no cheering crowd, and no group pizza afterward. It also means no gun time to oversleep, no set course to get lost on, and a pizza to myself afterward. A few weeks before the GWFW I had hyper extended my right knee overcompensating from a broken toe. I can’t do anything halfway. Running four miles was out of the question during recovery. I’m definitely disgusted with myself. I did two half marathons in less than a month and now I can’t even jog four miles. As Run Buddy says things need to heal or permanent damage will make me madder. That’s facts.
Instead of running and trying to set a PR I decided to do something different to earn my medal. I took my hydration pack and pinned the race bib to it. I left the pack empty. I went to the canal and walked 3k downstream. My thought was to see what water was available at that mark, get a picture, maybe get some water in the pack, and head back the rest of the distance.
At the 3k chirp my heart sank. The river bank was almost a straight drop. For my gimpy self it was completely inaccessible. I turned to head back with an empty pack feeling like a failure. I posted my bib, my runfie, and my map. I hadn’t raised the money I wanted to for my little guy, I hadn’t been able to run like I wanted to, and what I thought was a cool idea was met with lukewarm reception. I also hadn’t listened. God was speaking but it was to deaf ears.
When I sat to write my race recap for a running group no words would come. That empty pack with the picture bib on it stayed in my mind. I have a love/hate relationship with the hydration pack. If I run under three miles, I don’t take any water with me. Three to eight miles requires a bottle and a waist pack with a G2 gel. Eight miles to half marathon, 13.1 miles, and it’s the hydration pack of water laced with Drip Drop, a couple packs of gels, and sometimes a carb pod. This is why a full marathon is not on my running bucket list. I would need air support.
My last half marathon I was stupid and wore a cotton t-shirt. The three points of contact where my sports bra, the cotton, and the pack connected were raw and bloody when I finished. Don’t run in cotton. It was hot that day and I nearly drained the pack, something I rarely do. It was a point of amusement for me that the farther I went the lighter the pack got. For the GWFW I didn’t have a drop in the pack to start. I pulled it on and started walking.
The lightness of the pack weighed heavily on me for the first 3 kilometres. It bounced on my scarred shoulders even after I tightened the straps. The 3 kilometres back were worse. I wasn’t depending on that water for my entire day. The 2 liters I was going to collect were going to be poured back into the river when I got upstream to the Lockhouse. The idea that a 12 year old child would daily make the trek had me misty eyed. Would he have walked farther to a different water location? Would he have risked the bank and injury to collect what I couldn’t and wouldn’t? The light weight pack bouncing jovially seemed to mock the situation in my brain.
God kept bringing Matthew 11:25-30 to my remembrance. We all know verse 30 about Jesus saying His yoke is easy and His burden is light. It’s one of the scriptures we use to boost people when they go through hardship. I’ve even written on it here. This time God was drawing my attention to verse 27: “All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.”
Look at the first part: All things were handed over to Jesus by God. Who gave Jesus His burden? God! Would the Father overburden the Son? No! So will Jesus overburden us when we follow Him to the Father? No! Jesus is carrying the direct burden from the Father and is still able to provide us with rest. The way to receive that rest is to take His yoke and learn from Him. The yoke is not the burden, it is the equipment that makes carrying the burden easier.
The lightness of the yoke of Jesus is a direct result of His gentleness and humility. He says it Himself in verse 29. When we choose to take the burdens of the world on our hearts without first consulting what God would have us carry, we do not utilize the yoke of Christ. My empty hydration pack weighed on me because I felt like I should be doing more for the boy in the picture at a financial level. $100 felt like nothing. Back to verse 27: “No one knows the Father except the Son and ANYONE to whom the Son chooses to reveal Him.” See what I emphasized? $100 in the USA is not much but to the community I raised it for it’s a well. It’s water. It means this boy can now go to school, get education, and better himself. What looks like chump change to me is health and a bright future where it didn’t exist before. Who am I to say that God will not reveal Himself to this community though World Vision? Jesus said anyone. Saneliso is an anyone.
In scripture, water represents life. Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life. I was trying to be the water when Jesus was calling me to be an empty pack. My scarred shoulders are nothing to the scars on His hands, feet, and side. God will show Himself to those He chooses. I have to trust laying my burdens for others at His feet. I can’t carry that in my arms, I have to learn how to carry them in the yoke of Christ.
There will be a lot less theological fatigue when the church at large gets this revelation.
It’s not about a show, it’s about a Savior.
What are we willing to walk for daily? Is it Jesus? Is it another roll of toilet paper?
What are we carrying on our walk? The burdens of our own creation or the burden of the Creator?
Have we hydrated in the River of Life? Or are we more in line with Isaiah 57:20 “But the wicked are like the tossing sea; for it cannot be quiet, and its waters toss up mire and dirt.” It’s interesting that the new Jerusalem will have no sea. But that’s a rabbit trail.
I don’t ever want to stop coming to Jesus like a child and learning from Him and of Him. If Jesus can trust the Father as the source of burdens, than I can as well. Maybe I won’t need to constantly learn the lesson of how to carry that burden. Somewhere in Swaziland is a 12 year old boy who will be getting clean water. It is my prayer that he comes to a revelation of God and the salvation of the cross also. My burden was to raise the funds to make the physical well possible. The yoke I carried in prayer was for the Holy Spirit to move so a spiritual well would spring up, too. Anything further is drama of my own making.
The next event I’m fundraising for is Out Of The Darkness. I have that link also. Maybe God will have me write about that. It’s a bit more personal.
I’ll leave with this: If God asks you to do a thing, do it! He didn’t overburden His own Son. He is not about to overburden you!
Musings In The MidWest 