Two weeks ago, B Squad had our Eight Month Debrief in Nairobi. It was an opportunity to spend time together as a squad, to worship, seek the Lord, receive teaching, and check in with leadership about our wellbeing. Each team gets to sit down with squad leaders and the World Race staff that fly out to join us during these four days in order to help us process, as well as review team dynamics and personal experiences.
During Siloam's team debrief, each individual was asked to speak about how they're doing emotionally, physically, and spiritually. While my teammates were talking, I was planning in my head what I would say. I wanted to say something along the lines of, "I'm good, things are great!" and then throw in a few sentences about how I had been through a hard time, but now its over and everything is wonderful, great, fantastic. Then we would move on to my next teammate and I would be off the hook.
Instead, I opened my mouth, immediately started sobbing, and barely choked out, "I'm struggling." I was crying, and not the trickling lone tear out of the corner of my eye. It was the hysterical, out of control, can't breathe, snot-dripping crying in front of my entire team, three squad leaders, and two World Race staff members. None of which had ever seen me cry before.
The World Race has been a lonely experience for me. For as long as I can remember, one of my biggest struggles has been feeling as through I need to earn the approval of those around me. Everyone from my parents, family members, friends, co-workers, employers, you name it, and I feel like I have to act a certain way in order to be accepted. So throughout this entire experience, I've been guarded and put up walls because I'm absolutely convinced that if I was just myself, I would be rejected. I wouldn't fit in.
But living in constant community while isolating myself has been painful and brought nothing but loneliness and magnified my self-imposed seclusion. I feel like I can't connect with my teammates and the others on my squad. I feel forgotten by everyone back home. I feel like I'm unseen, unnoticed, unimportant, that I don't matter and I don't have a voice. On top of it, I've been in a spiritual desert for months. I've been crying out to the Father for intimacy, for a deeper love and affection for Him, and to grow in maturity and faith. But He's been silent. I don't hear the voice of the Lord in the same way I used to and I'm straining to hear from Him, growing desperate and more thirsty for His presence.
I think the reason I finally broke was because I just couldn't contain it anymore. I couldn't lie about how I was doing because I really need people to speak into my brokenness.Thankfully, everyone at debrief did just that. They prayed for me, surrounded me, encouraged me, and in the midst of it all, I started to feel just a tiny bit better.
"Are any of you suffering hardships? You should pray…. Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results." James 5:13, 16
Being vulnerable is hard and painful. It exposes the most sensitive parts of ourselves and asks for others not to take advantage of our weaknesses. But its also beautiful and brought about a deeper intimacy with my team and helped me to recognize that the Lord hadn't abandoned me. I'm not going to claim that after that moment, God's voice echoed from the heavens. I still feel in the middle of the desert. But by being vulnerable I've allowed others to help me and to provide community, and I've started to let the walls come down and tell fear that it has no place in my life.
My team has been fighting for me and alongside me in such a loving way. Last night they spent over an hour praying for me, giving me encouragement, speaking scriptures over me, and interceding for my heart. Through their actions, I felt the love of the Lord overflowing. I was a teary, snot-covered mess all over again, but I think they're used to seeing me like that by now.
I know that there is an end to this season and I have great hope that my prayers for intimacy, for depth, and for maturity in the Lord will not be unanswered. I've taken the advice of one of my squadmates and started to worship the Lord in a way I hadn't been doing before. Yesterday, I took refuge in the field behind our home, sitting behind rank pit latrines and singing my heart out. If anything, I'm learning how to continually seek the Lord and I have a deeper insight into the verse that says,
"As the deer longs for streams of water, so I long for you, O God" (Psalm 42:1).
