Read my first blog about training camp here.
The week of training camp was a time warp. By Sunday night – only our first full day at camp – I had cried twice, once in front of people sharing part of His story in my life and learning of His grace in theirs, and once in my tent the previous night, wondering what the heck am I doing here.
I also had the immense feeling that the week would NEVER end.
It was only Sunday night and we had spent the previous 24 hours setting up our tents in a massive field [it looked pretty sweet though], sleeping with all of our new gear, then packing it up and hiking with all of it. I had already lost track of how many names I had heard. We shared community meals out a bowl, lost luggage and all throughout the day we had sessions on worldview, grieving and forgiveness. The Holy Spirit showed up powerfully in the conversations with racers, staff, and the guest speakers. The corporate worship was beautiful and the storms throughout the day [did I mention it rained?] were bittersweet to enjoy. [I love storms. I don’t love wet tents]
And this was only Sunday.
The rest of the week blurs together and yet remains decidedly clear. I met my incredible squad and fell in love with how quickly we fell into step with each other. It’s only going to get better from here. We had a few more sessions with the guest speakers interspaced with crazy dance-offs, Frisbee, setting up and breaking down camp. I showered after five days and I must {get it} admit the lazy part in me loved it. We shared meals with cultural setups each day and watched as every part of camp was met with the intentionality of staff. Each scenario we embraced as a squad has happened before on the field and could happen again. And for the most part, I loved it all.
My favorite moments though were ones when I found confirmation in being there.
The quiet ones when the Lord spoke to me.
The powerful ones when others prayed over me, without knowing even my name and yet God revealed to them my heart.
The beautiful ones in the moments when a squad mate needed love and my squad rallied.
The tough ones when we set up camp in the woods or I confessed a sin that I have never shared before.
The funny ones when I watched people arm wrestle, Jeff tried out an accent like Guille, and my Rose was a janitor.
The difficult ones when I questioned everything, or wanted so badly for my friends to be around me – that ones that know me intimately already, and know my patterns and my humor, and the ones that I don’t hold my laugh back for because they are no longer stunned by its loud outburst.
The tired ones when I fell asleep to people playing guitar or to complete confidence and appreciation that Logan was doing so well preferring others on the bus.
The joyful ones when I watched the Holy Spirit stir in 300 hearts – all individually and differently, seeing and meeting with each of us.
The intimate ones when I surrendered fears, doubts and things I had avoided for a long time.
The full ones when I watched people step into something new, like Ruby and her encouragement, and when I hung out with my team and said goodbye to people knowing that for the next year, they are my family and we will fight (with and) for each other.
The frantic ones in the market and how immediately I was transported back to the Congo, made complete with the Justin Bieber being played from the van. [the only thing missing, French and several more dark faces.]
The empowering ones when my family prayed for one another and staff spoke truth and life over us.
The sweet moments when I worshipped freely, when people affirmed me and my spirit and when I was privileged to hear stories of God’s goodness in those around me and how He restores and redeems, loving my squad through the messiness and calling us all to this crazy beautiful journey.
Training camp was messy. I cried often. In the past, I would have said too often. But so many times it was not out of sadness, but rather out of joy, of the sweetness of the Holy Spirit, and the blessing to BE THERE at training camp. I was overwhelmed plenty throughout the week. It was a difficult week. And a long week. And in the end it went by too fast. I was challenged in so many ways. And I loved it. And I am so grateful for it. And blessed by it.
I am sure for weeks to come it will be on my mind with all that it taught me and showed me about God, others and myself. And for years, I will know the beauty that came from camping for a week in the red clay in Georgia.
**All of these photos are borrowed/stolen from members of my squad: Terin James, Becca Leigh, and Tina Meyer. I have pictures as well, but lost my camera cord in my move from VA.
As of right now – TEAM DOULOS is all heading out all together in July for Romania. We've made the deadline. Thank you for your prayers and support. Continue to pray for our squad!
We will meet in Atlanta beginning July 3rd and 4th for a few days before leaving the U.S.
