To those wondering about my time at this thing called training camp, I’d love to share with you the highlights, difficult places, and how I grew in ten days.
Lets start with what I tasted. I tasted hints of chorine in my Nalgene, rice of all kinds, mysterious meat substances, and the occasional red Georgia mud when I wasn’t careful.
I smelled the stench of overflowing porta potties, my own body odor, wet and mildew-y clothing, campfires, and, when far enough away from these other smells, my nose was able to breath deep and take in all the glorious smells of the outdoors.
I touched the shoulders of my brothers and sisters, the blades of grass as I rolled down the hill, and African and Indian food.
I heard the voice of the Lord through the power of listening prayer, the cries of my fellow sisters, the rain pouring down on my tent, the beautiful and melodic prayers of my coach, and the uproarious laughter from those around me.
I saw deep wounds surface, deep wounds heal, people fall on the floor praising and crying out to the Lord, my hands raised high, and God in the trees.
This my the team I’ll be launching with come October 1st. We will be headed to Pena Blanca, Honduras where will we start our first month of ministry. We are over the moon for this new season of life and feel drenched in God’s grace and love.
This is not my story, nor will this ever be my story. This is and will always be the Lords story.
