Someone asked me that a while back…”Who’s in charge of the FREEDOM TOUR?”
I asked what he meant. “Well, who does it belong to? You know…who’s actually responsible for it?”
We chatted a bit and I realized that he was trying to understand if the tour was a program or ministry of some church or nonprofit. When I explained how it works, he looked incredulous. “You mean it’s just Becky and you? You two own the whole thing?”
Not exactly.
Becky and I spend a lot of time on it, but really a big circle of people do all sorts of hard work to make it happen. There’s no way two people could do this. I suppose we manage and organize, but nobody “owns” this project.
Yesterday I wrote about following the dream when you can’t see the destination. We hung up a sign, somewhat timidly, in 2013 and invited folks to take a 500-mile bike ride. We had no idea who would respond, how it would develop, or whether we could pull it off. We asked ourselves at many points, “What in the world have we done?”
We decided to face the fear, work as a team, and trust God for the outcome.
I have a 2013 computer file labeled “If We Do This Again” because a repeat wasn’t certain. No way to imagine that we’d be anticipating our Fifth Anniversary surrounded by an ever-expanding community filled with love and commitment to this big story. The day we hung that sign, “us and we” meant Becky and me. Now it encompasses a wide circle of folks who understand that the FREEDOM TOUR is much more than a bike ride.
This dream led to lifelong friendships, to an ongoing commitment to a group of kids halfway around the world. We’ve experienced generosity and shared sacrifice. We’ve seen God work as lives connect through sharing our stories.
We have fun, riding bikes and eating and laughing in the familiar way of folks who’ve struggled and sweat and changed flat tires together. It’s the intimacy born of “What? You, too? I though I was the only one.”
Who owns the FREEDOM TOUR? God, I suppose, since it’s all His anyway. This community simply follows Jesus and tries to return some of what we’ve been given. It’s a remarkable story.
And, to be honest, I don’t know how it works.