By Ashley Musick
So we are finished. The first World Race is officially over. We have crossed the actual finish line. We have even said some of our dreaded goodbyes. The last few weeks have been a time of debriefing and fellowship with the family I’ve traveled the entire world alongside. So many tears, so many laughs, and so many prayers together, and in 24 hours I’ll leave most of it behind – the remnants of it etched on my heart and in my memories.
Over the past couple weeks in Jeffery’s Bay, South Africa, we have shared in a fancy formal dinner, a night of prayer and pizza with one another, and one last trip to Cape Town with some of our South African companions. What an end to an amazing year. This is the trip of a lifetime.
God has shown Himself to us in a myriad of ways around the globe. Who can forget the praying orphans of India, the lost Tibetan monks high in the hills, the war-torn children of Bosnia, or the poorest of poor in the slums of Kibera? I’m so thankful for the knowledge of God, the world, and ministry that I’ve gained. I’m thankful for the way God has used all the World Racers this year to impact people for His glory. I’m thankful that He provided every step of the way and has brought me to the finish line.
At the beginning of this trip I lacked the funds to go all the way around the globe. I thought I would just run out and go home when God wanted me to go home. Apparently, He never wanted me to go home, because I’m at the end. Even at the crucial point in Turkey when I went to Africa on faith that I would get more money, He was there. I was never in danger of being left alone. 
That’s one very valuable lesson to learn.
In acknowledgment of that lesson, I did something crazy this week. I wanted to finish with style. In one of our debrief lessons we talked about being intiated into a radical life for Jesus. I think just going on this crazy trip will do that, but I did a little something extra to make sure.
I jumped off a bridge. It’s not just any bridge either. It’s the third highest bridge in the world, and the highest bungee jump in the world at 216 meters. I placed my toes over the edge, and in 3-2-1 bungee I fell into the open arms of Jesus without fear.
I promise I won’t forget my faith lesson from the year. At the bottom of the jump I just prayed (upside down, mind you) that God would keep the memory of this year, the lesson, the closeness I’ve felt with Him, that it would all be close to my heart for my future ministry and endeavors.
After a year of traveling and ministering, I know that I will trust God for anything. I know that His arms will always be open to catch me. I will never bash my head against the rocks as long as I trust in Him. I’m on the edge. The edge of a radical life lived for Christ. The edge of big opportunities and choices. And I’m not scared. Not at all.