God, Did You Just…?

God, Did You Just Scramble My Brain!?

Last weekend my church’s youth group had their annual summer camp weekend. Within the first fifteen minutes of our first session I knew it was going to indeed be a great weekend: our girls were pumped, we were pumped, and I had just learned that our theme for the weekend was Our Identity in Christ. (Yes, I should’ve known the theme before the weekend; no, I have no idea how I missed it.) The theme made me even more excited. With the school year only two weeks away, I wanted our girls to embrace their identity in Christ. I wanted them to have the right tools to face the trials of middle school. Dana and I wanted all these things for the girls, but never once did I think about what I might need from this. Never once did I think that I would gain such a powerful lesson from this weekend. See, I went into the weekend pretty much on a high. Earlier in the week, I heard one of the best things all year, “You’re accepted to the World Race January Route 2,” and I was looking forward to telling Dana (my co-leader, who knew nothing yet) all about what God was doing in my life. However, I did not anticipate the low I’d be in just three nights later on Saturday night.

 

The weekend started out great! The sessions were awesome, our small group times were phenomenal, and the Color Wars were intensely underway. On Friday afternoon I even found the time to tell Dana about the WR, and she was overwhelmed with excitement for me. Yet, somehow, dread slowly crept in. I hadn’t entirely told my parents that I had been accepted to the WR, and I knew they’d be slightly less supportive than I hoped. Plus, we were supposed to go on a weeklong vacation as soon as I got home. I knew I had to tell them, and tell them before I even got home. I knew they’d need some time to process it, so Saturday afternoon, after much prayer, I called them. They knew I had applied and that I was praying about it, but I think hearing me actually say that I was going shocked them a bit. We talked for a few minutes about it, and then I had to go to our night session.

 

To be honest, I was in tears. I’ve always been the kid to honor my mom and dad; to do what they thought was best. I’ve always been the responsible kid. Let me say this I do not think going on the World Race is dishonoring them. I know that once reality sets in for all of us, they will be my biggest and best supporters. Why? Because they already are in everything else in my life. They love me and I them. But in that moment, I was struggling because they hadn’t yet reached that fully supportive position yet. It tore me up inside to think that I was doing something that my parents disagreed with all the while God was telling me wholeheartedly to go. I was in tears and the tough love I received from Dana and another good friend only made me more torn. As worship began, the band started playing a camp favorite, “Give Me Faith” by Elevation Worship. At one point the lyrics say:

 

That night the speaker was talking about Romans 8:35-39; one of my personal favorite passages of scripture. As he talked about it and read it to the kids He used this phrase to sum it up, “Nothing can separate you from His great love.” I’ve had this passage underlined in my bible for ages, but this time I decided to write that exact phrase down at the bottom of the page. As I wrote, I found myself bolding and underlining that one beautiful word: NOTHING.

 

 

Earlier at camp, the speaker asked us all to write down things that we were struggling with and to hold onto them. That night, he collected those and passed out folded notecards to each student. On each notecard was one word, but the students were instructed to wait until small group time to read them. A few leaders, me included, took a card as well, but had to return ours because we were short a few for the students. Before handing mine back, I decided to look at it; to see what word everyone had. As my mind connected the letters into a word, I was speechless.

That’s what was written across the card in beautiful hadnwriting. The word, “Nothing.” I handed the card back to our youth pastor, still stunned by it all. Just a few minutes before I had underlined a specific word as a reminder that nothing can separate me from His great love and His great plan for my life. Nothing will stand in His way. I was filled with joy at the idea that God would have me underline and bold that word so it was fresh in my mind when I read the card. How cool is that!?

 

 

After the session ended, our small group decided to go to the lakefront to share our thoughts about the cards. As our group of seven took in the beauty of the sunset, the girls started to read their cards. Every card had a different word, and I was even more surprised. I thought every card had the same word. I thought the speaker had written the word, “nothing” on every card to remind the students that nothing can separate them from our Father’s love. Nothing can change that their identity is in Him. But I was wrong. All the words were different! And my word didn’t make sense. The words were adjectives or verbs. All positive adjectives or verbs, like pure, perfect, dynamic, cherished, new… and mine had said “nothing.” Nothing. When I told Dana my word, she was puzzled too. “Yours said, ‘Nothing?’ How is that a good thing.” When I explained the story to her she got really excited and made me a card.

I was overflowing with joy, but it wasn’t until later when my friend Kelli pointed something out. Something mind blowing — I will never know if that card actually said “nothing” or if it was God choosing to let me see that word. To top it off, the speaker had already left so I couldn’t ask if that was one of the words written down. I was left wondering if God had scrambled my brain to make me see that word or if He made it work in perfect design for me to get that specific card. Honestly, I’m leaning toward the brain scrambling theory, but either way, I’ll probably never forget this. Nothing separates me from His great love. Nothing changes my idnetity in Him. Nothing stops His plan. Not family, not friends, not finances, not circumstances, and especially not a note card that may or may not have actually said, “Nothing.”