Imagine that you’re halfway through getting open-heart surgery when the anesthesia starts to wear off, and you begin to wake up. You feel the sharp scalpel cut into your aorta. You feel the burn of a torch fusing broken vessels back together. You feel the threading of sutures being made where flesh was once torn. You’re awake. You’re aware. You feel everything.
That was training camp for me.
Ok, just roll with me for a minute. Aside from the freezing nights and sweaty afternoons, training camp was 100% nothing what I anticipated. I arrived that Thursday with fear, pain, insecurity, and anxiety all wrapped up in a pretty smile and vivacious spirit.
Its 11 days shy of a year that my friend died. I did my crying. I went through therapy. I started laughing again. I thought I was fine. But in reality, nothing was dealt with.
The truth is, I was angry. I was angry because a year ago I was the happiest I’ve ever been. Everything was finally coming together and I wouldn’t have changed a thing. Then out of nowhere, my whole life changed. Every part of happiness & comfort & normal routine was gone without warning. I was angry because I was forced to accept that I was never going to get that “normal” back. And I began to believe that God couldn’t be trusted with the things that were precious to me.
I spent the past year trying to get back to “normal.” Trying to accept this “new normal” that I didn’t think I wanted. Trying to be strong through the pain. Trying to be “ok” so that people don’t think I’m a basket case. Everything has been harder. I lost my “want” for my Father. And in that, I felt like I didn’t deserve Him. This posture encouraged the insecurities of my heart and engaged a lifestyle of comparison. In my mind, God must have loved others more than me.
“Look at how happy they all are. Look at how much is going right for them. They must be doing something better than me to deserve it. Yet here I am. I am not as wise as her. I am not as experienced as her. I don’t stand out in a crowd. I am not worth people’s time or attention, let alone God’s. I am not as beautiful as her. I am not as special as her. I am not as talented as her. I am- at the most- tolerated by God, but not really wanted. I am simply not enough. Therefore He is giving more of Himself to those who deserve it. Those who He loves more than me. Those who are better than me.”
The truth is that grief infected more areas of my life than I knew was possible. And it took me the deepest valley to see God exalted in the highest.
What if the deeper waters I’ve been searching for is found in the very place I was avoiding for so long? What if the place my faith will be strengthened the most is at the core of the emotions I’ve been hiding from? What if He really is loving and kind in all of His ways? What if in my pain, I’m in His love? What if in my confusion I’m in His love? What if in my anger, I’m still in His love? And what if that’s enough for Him? If that’s true, then I want more. If that’s true, then there really is no place I’d rather be than here in His love, feeling everything I didn’t want to feel, and being aware of His Presence as He mends my brokenness with tender hands.
Training camp allowed me to sit down and unwrap a gift God handed me a year ago. A gift He waited patiently for me to open as I ignored and resented it. A gift that has allowed me to press into the center of emotions I didn’t want to face, and find His grace and love to be unwavering, and still sufficient for me.
I could sit here and write of all the amazing things I learned. I could write all the profound quotes from various speakers that I scribbled in the margins of my journal. I could take you into the comical journey of what camping for 10 days straight was like for this city girl. But the game changer for me was the moment I heard my Dad’s voice saying “Everything that is mine is yours. I am always with you. You are always enough. I want you. Just as you are- right now- in this moment. Your broken, immobile heart draws me near to you. I am so pleased with you- with what I see when I look at you. You are stunning, and beautiful, and lovely. You are unique and funny and full of joy, and I see Myself in you. I see you in a crowd. I chose you. I made you dangerously powerful against the enemy. You are my child; my girl; my daughter. You are worthy. Everything that’s mine is yours- it always has been; now rest. Stop working and just enjoy me.”
What I believe about myself will radically shape how I live. So I believe in God. Yeah…but do I believe God? Do I believe I am who He says I am? Do I believe I have been radically forgiven? Do I believe He is as unconditionally loving as He promises? Do I believe I have the authority and power He says I have? Do I believe I am a significant part in God’s agenda to bring His children home? Do I believe that He really is loving and kind in all of His ways, even when my circumstances hurt deeper than words can convey? Do I believe that His plans are better than my largest notion of what happiness is?
Absolutely.
