I “easily” survived training camp.
I came away from it feeling good about myself, as in “Yeah, it was really no biggie. I rolled with the crazy schedule and, you know, it wasn’t that hard. I didn’t even cry, ever. After all, I’ve traveled a ton and have had a lot of life experience already. I’m all good.”
The month and a half since training camp have proven to be some of the most dreadful weeks I’ve had since signing up for the Race.
I felt dead, and dry, and victory was almost completely lacking in every area of my life. Deep down, I wondered why I’m even going on the Race if this is how my personal life is. After all, how can I help someone when I need help myself? Knowing the reality of my life, I felt like a total hypocrite thinking about the way my friends at training camp must think of me as. I felt completely inadequate to be a World Racer. I was messed up, and I knew it. I also knew what I needed to do for this to change, but I didn’t have the strength or really even the concern to do it. So, day in and day out, I didn’t spend time with Jesus and barely said more than a few hurried words to God. It seemed Heaven was brass. I felt my words didn’t reach God’s ears, because how could He hear me when I was such a mess?
With my deteriorating Spirituality came the shutting down of emotions. I couldn’t feel anything anymore- not freedom, or guilt; not real joy, or sadness; and worst of all: I couldn’t feel God. I felt I was floating through life heading for something worse than terrible, and I didn’t know how to stop. I couldn’t stop. I was powerless.
But then- God stepped in. When I came to the end of myself, it was there I found Him, tarrying. All this time He was leaning toward me, listening intently, and waiting just to hear a strain of my voice crying out to Him. When I did, He ran to me with out-stretched arms and streaming tears. He stooped down and picked me up. He kissed my face and held me to Himself, all while whispering in my ear that He does love me, and I’m not beyond the sphere of His mercy, and I can be forgiven again even if for the thousandth time. As I cried tears of brokenness for the first time in a long time, I felt Him breathing life into me again. As that life began to circulate through my heart, the feeling came back. And now, I can feel that I’m beginning to feel again.
I am finally realizing I don’t have to be strong to be okay. Sometimes weakness is better, because “when I am weak in human strength, then am I truly strong.” (2 Cor. 12:10) My human strength and the ability to “hold it together” isn’t strength at all; it’s weakness.
Take courage, my dear reader, if ever this is you. Our Father doesn’t look for strength or perfection. Rather, He reaches for our hearts, looking for brokenness and weakness so He can offer wholeness and strength in exchange.
“But He said to me: My favor and loving-kindness and mercy is enough for you, sufficient against any danger and enables you to bear the trouble manfully; for My strength and power are made perfect, fulfilled and completed, and show themselves most effective in your weakness.” (2 Cor. 12:9)
