In life, there is always a destination; something I’m waiting for or working toward. There is also a past, and a present. One of my goals is to stay alive in the present, never focussing so much on what’s next that I completely miss out on all the here and now has to offer.
Training Camp was eye-opening for me.
The time between the day I arrived to the day I left proved to be a teacher of many things. I had a few misgivings about camp and this whole “doing life as community” thing I’m about to get involved in. Number one, I like my privacy. Number two, I like my space. In addition, I like my life (and everything in it) to be in order; my living space to be clean; and my morning routine to be as uninterrupted as possible.
Training camp was everything that the above mentioned list is not.
There was not one ounce of privacy. I had no personal space aside from my tent, and even that was not dependable. My morning routine took on a whole new face: I woke up in my warm, cozy sleeping bag; I squirmed out of it and into the freezing cold air inside my tent; I flicked on my head lamp and groped for my wet wipes; I ran my fingers through my wild, unwashed hair. As I attempted to clean up and prepare for the day, all I could hear was the laughter and voices of my new friends. I wondered how in the world anyone could think mornings were made for talking. I stuffed my sleeping bag into a compression sack and deflated my sleeping pad. Inside, I groaned when I stood up and saw the amount of dirt sticking to my legs. All of this, however, was just shadows in the light of God and what He was doing in and around me.
Throughout the week, I was gifted with so much goodness. “Good, Good Father” is a song we sang over and over again during worship. During those moments of incredible worship, I let the goodness of God saturate my being. I reveled in the fact I’m His daughter; I’m completely owned and treasured by Him.
After a teaching session about hearing the Voice of God, I and a few other girls huddled together and spent some time listening for the Voice of God to hear what He wanted to say to anyone in our group. I first off informed the ladies I’m not one to hear words much for other people. We closed our eyes and stood silently for a while. Almost immediately, God began speaking words to me for the girl directly across from me. I didn’t immediately share what I was hearing, so as I remained eyes closed and listening, the girl next to me said, “I feel you have something.”. I nodded in agreement and spoke out the words.
In that small moment of time, my Father affirmed His ability to use me in ways I don’t feel strongly gifted in. It isn’t about my ability to perform. It’s about His ability to use me, a broken and surrendered vessel. And, it’s about me being vulnerable.
To think back over training camp, I sigh and shake my head, and a little grin crosses my lips. For me to be with several hundred people twenty-four hours a day for ten days and retain my sanity is something to marvel about. It’s weird how God takes perfect strangers, and unites hearts to pursue one passion: spread the love of Jesus. When Jesus, the main thing, is the main thing, strangers don’t remain strangers. We band together, hand in hand, and we run toward the same goal. I love that.
I am super stoked to go into next year with my thirty plus new friends and together pursue ministry to the least and the lost. I get giddy inside just thinking about the adventure that’s going to find us as we run with Jesus.
