I was first recruited for Biking for Babies two years ago by two enthusiastic Biking for Babies missionaries, Ana Daley and Maddie Ferrero, who knew me from the Baltimore Basilica; in those days my bright red Bianchi Via Nirone bicycle was often seen fastened with a Kryptonite U-lock to the Basilica’s wrought iron fence, or I was spotted racing around downtown, “my guardian angel working overtime,” as Deacon Bob put it, based on my cavalier disregard for traffic laws.

Back then, my attitude whenever anyone from the Basilica asked me to do something—the priests never bothered with me, but the nuns, the Source of All Hope Missionaries, various administrators, the musical director, parishioners, ushers, and the sexton all seemed to have me on speed dial—was to say yes immediately, if no obvious reason otherwise presented itself. I was single, new to the community, and my job wasn’t demanding of my time, so I figured I might as well. (In fact, I’ve since learned that married men ought not rush to do various tasks in the church; these are for the single men to do, that they might demonstrate their suitability to potential mates. Another fantastic reason to get married.)

So while that year I said yes to Maddie and Ana, in the event, I missed the deadline to sign up for Biking for Babies. I was annoyed with myself, but I was able to support their campaigns, which made me feel connected to their mission. I was impressed by their enthusiasm and wanted to encourage it, like oxygen to a flame: after all, they could have been doing anything else with their time, rather than helping to organize what turned about to be a serious, complicated endeavor depending largely on volunteer effort. Maddie and Ana, like me or any number of us, could have been working on their careers, or hanging out with friends, or swiping on dating apps, or parcticing transcendental meditation, or doing anything else.

It was providential that I should have joined as a rider the following year. At the time of my acceptance as a Biking for Babies rider, I was still working a part time job with flexible hours. I wasn’t yet engaged to be married. I had ample time for my various commitments, and then some. That all of this suddenly changed right when I began training for Biking for Babies has been a lesson in humility and acceptance. I recall moaning to Maddie on one of our training rides, which was 70 miles through the rolling hills of Baltimore County’s “horses and hounds” country, that I wished I had signed up the year before: why did I have to participate this year, when my time was so scarce, and I was facing so many pressures? “It would have been too easy,” Maddie responded, without hesitation (while climbing up the steep, curving section of Falls Road, on her very first road bike, purchased that spring—riding itself was her challenge this year, a challenge she has met head on, with admirable and contagious zeal).

Maddie was right. Divine providence ordained that I should be uncomfortable, that I should accept my own imperfection, that I should abandon my pride and face the prospect of falling short, yet that I should never forget my dedication to our cause, even while confronting very real and important worldly demands. After all, the vulnerable women we are supporting are facing a vastly more difficult struggle, and need our support.

That moment was when the spiritual component that I had heard about when I was first asking Maddie and Ana why they were attracted to this mission, became real to me. Maddie and Ana had spoken of the Christian imperative to sacrifice for others, to put one’s own desires to the side, to reject the prideful view that any of us are able to solve the world’s problems—or even our own—all by ourselves. God wants us to rely on Him, and on one another.

For various reasons, increasing numbers of young people today feel depressed, anxious, angry, and alone. All too often, they are drawn into pursuits and viewpoints that exploit and exacerbate these feelings. While missionaries are certainly not immune to negative emotions—they are human, after all—what I have seen is that their dedication to a cause, rooted in Christian spirituality, is an antidote to the division and brokenness of our world.

With my own participation, I want to set an example for young people. As followers of Christ, we must be bold, and we must work together, in order to share Christ’s Gospel of love. After all, no politician, no business mogul, no technology wizard, is going to solve the world’s problems, which are rooted in our very nature. Yet the enormity of our calling, to act in ways contrary to the pressures of the world, does not mean we ought to shrink from it. On the contrary, the enormity of our calling, every day, should make us understand that we must work together in order to respond to it. We are all members of one body, and we all have a role to play.

Supporters of my own humble mission with Biking for Babies should therefore know that they are not only helping vulnerable women at their time of great need, and supporting family formation, but also that they are encouraging young people to take risks, to be bold, to act on their beliefs, to reject comfortable passivity and instead seek out one another to make a difference wherever they are. I want my supporters to know that their contribution not only helps pregnancy centers with their operating budgets this year, but ensures that Biking for Babies grows, promising more support in each passing year. By focusing on forming new missionaries in this way, I want to be like a force multiplier. Formation of new missionaries and encouraging young people to be bold and take action will be the focus of the talks I give as we follow our route from Raleigh to Philadelphia, and will inform the conversations, guided by the Holy Spirit, that we have along the way.