From July 6th to July 16th I attended what the World Race World calls Training Camp. On the Adventures in Missions campus in Gainesville, Georgia myself and about 270 other Gap Year Racers spent those ten days pouring out our hearts and souls to God, hoping to feel him fill our cups.
I would be lying if I said my cup wasn’t filled by him, because my cup was overflowing. We did lots of important stuff while at camp from ministry training(woman’s, children’s, etc.), emotional health and healing, forgiveness, a whole ton of worshiping, field scenarios, eating all kinds of food, but most importantly living in community.
Ahhhh Community. I never thought I would absolutely enjoy this as much as I do. Before going to camp I would choose being alone over being in a group just about any day, at camp a switch was flipped. The people I was surrounded by filled me with a kind of joy I never had felt before. They filled me with truly the best joy I could ever ask for.
God pushed me to all kinds of extremes. By the last two days of camp I was exhausted, physically and mentally. Definitely mentally. I wasn’t used to dealing with my emotions, or unbottling. At home I always tend to do this thing where I put people before myself, I am always fixing others, I pay little to no attention of fixing myself.
God told me I was not allowed to do that at camp.
God told me I needed this time to heal.
God told me to let him and the people around me help me.
God was right. But when isn’t he? I can’t thank our Father enough for telling me I needed to fix myself, and by doing that I would need to utilize the people he surrounded me with. The conversations I had with my squad mates were some of the most incredible conversations I’ve ever had. These people are my people. They healed me, they told me to trust in the lord, they told me to place everything in his hands. They showered me with love.
These people are not like the people at “home.”
These people are my home.
I didn’t realize this until one of the last days when we received cookies at a meal, and taped to the plastic wrap was a sign that said, “Home Sweet Home.” I read it over and over again. It spoke so much truth. No, the Adventures in Missions campus isn’t my home, my home is wherever I am as long as my squad is with me. We all have such a skewed understanding of what the word home means. It doesn’t have to be our place of residence, your home is where you are happiest. Where you are the most full.
I remember looking around at the people at my table. Thinking they are my home.Thinking this is what home feels like. I smiled and laughed and cried so much during those ten days, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. I had people right next to me doing the same things. I was comfortable, even if Georgia humidity caused me to be soaking wet the whole ten days.
God has blessed me. He gave me people that I can love unconditionally and I know they will unconditionally love me back. God gave me people that he called do the same thing. God gave me people I call openly and confidently talk about my passions with. God gave me such a good community.
God gave me such a good home.
He is such a good Father.
