If there’s one thing about Costa Rica (and most of Latin America in general) is that they love beans. A lot. As in every single meal a lot. My team has been back at the Christian camp this last week and they serve us some of the best meals I have had all race. They do a phenomenal job and it’s been a pleasure getting to know Padre, the master behind the food. However, as common as doctors suggest we drink water, they eat beans. Beans combined with coffee is not good.
In total, my team has been at La Montana three times. First, we spent the weekend there for a camp… later to find out that we would be back for debrief less than a week later. The day we got back to the base, we found out that we would leave the squad yet again and go back for another camp. Over the course of my time at Montana, the Lord revealed some deep roots of bitterness in my heart. I was struggling to love my teammates and I fell into a vicious cycle of comparison (hence what sparked my previous blog). I wanted to love each of them well, but for some reason, I was struggling to even be in the same room as them. We all scattered during debrief and spent very minimal time together. There was tension, but no real conflict that sparked it. We were just in a funk and the state of my heart only fed into it. I wanted my perspective to change, but I didn’t even know the cause of it. I felt stuck and didn’t have a lot of motivation to dig myself out.
After some hashing out with the Lord, a few rocks thrown over the side of the mountain, and some honesty with myself, I realized how deeply rooted bitterness was in my life because of weeds I had let grow unattended. I held my teammates to a standard that only God can meet and expected them to love me in a way that only He can. I expected them to pursue me back after all the effort I had poured out the first half of the race, but when I wasn’t satisfied with the reality – I became bitter. I realized everything I had poured out left me emptier than ever because the only things I was pouring out was of my own flesh and my own will. I loved in my own strength, not His. So I ran out. When I became empty without being properly refilled, my heart died to the drought and became a destitute desert. I became barren and it resulted in the growth of weeds of blame and pent-up anger. I lost sight as to who I was made to be and I looked to others as a standard of who I should be. I saw my squadmate as more “gentle” than me and I often caught myself striving in that area, only to be frustrated at myself as soon as I messed up. At the end of the day, past the bitterness and comparison and frustration, I was just seeking approval from man again and striving to be loved and enough. I couldn’t see past my “unworthiness” and only saw my flaws in the mirror.
This was around the time that the Lord brought my team back up the mountain. We needed to regain His eyes for each other. We needed to start over. And I needed to look up. After slipping yet again into the eyes of comparison, the Father convicted me by asking, “Why are you comparing yourself to another person? Don’t you know that they are just as much a sinner as you? Why are you setting them as the standard when I sent my Son to be the standard? Wouldn’t you rather be like Him than them?” I’m not going to lie. My God has a way of setting me straight.
So fast forward to yesterday. We found out that we would be at La Montana for another week, so me, Ashlynn, and Sam came back to the base for the weekend to be with the squad and get some more clothes before meeting back up with the rest of the team on Monday. He’s taking us back up the mountain. He’s renewing our perspective. He’s reteaching us our purpose and worth. He’s reforming my identity, and this time, no drought is going to waver it. In order to that though, He’s taking me through the fire. And fire hurts. But it also refines. And it brings new growth. He’s flushing out the old and bringing new wine. Metaphorically and literally, He’s feeding me beans all day everyday to clean out the toxins in my mind and body.
Bring on the beans.
