Sitting on the plane from Atlanta to Seattle next to people who are wholly unaware of the startling fact that I haven’t showered in ten days, I can’t help but reflect on the utter difference in emotion when I arrived at the Atlanta airport eleven days ago for training camp. I was nervous for every unknown, excited by the potential for new friendships, and slightly less tired both emotionally and physically. Before arriving at training camp, if you would’ve asked me, I would not have said I was tired. This is because I wasn’t — not in the traditional definition of exhaustion we typically adhere to. Ten days later, sitting on the plane flying out of a rainy Atlanta, I am struck with the realization that I was, indeed, tired. I was tired spiritually — arguably the most damaging form of weariness. Although I was not aware of this ten days ago, I was in need of a spiritual reboot. I had grown complacent, comfortable, and lukewarm. My expectation of training camp was that it would be an “info session” as I had been explaining to family and friends. After multiple occasions of building and dismantling my tent, learning the valuable lesson of how one’s hand can serve as a utensil while sharing cultural meals with my squad mates, and fully experiencing God’s presence through countless worship sessions and sermons, I stood corrected. No, training camp was not an info session. Praise God that it wasn’t.
The immense conviction I experienced during lectures and conversations with fellow racers stretched me in muscles of my spiritual life I had not known needed growth, leaving me sore in these areas from years of being unused. For weeks, I had been explaining my desire to serve the Lord and others on the race with enthusiasm — and I genuinely meant these words of conviction. However, it was not until after camp that I started to believe them. I am humbled to enter into a renewed relationship with Christ, in which I am striving for unashamed honesty and complete surrender. I want to truly surrender myself — my desires, my idols — and confess my shortcomings when I fail. I want to abandon control of my life that I have been so desperately clutching and, through prayer, pass it over to Jesus.
Sitting on the plane, I am filled with the emotions of nervousness and excitement that I felt ten days ago. Although these are familiar emotions, their source has changed. I am boldly beginning a new chapter in my relationship with Christ. I excitedly anticipate the steps forward and fearlessly acknowledge the guaranteed steps back. Yes, ten days can surprisingly leave a person somewhat exhausted, but in anticipation of the eleven months, I say bring it on.
