The first one is about something called “The Cross Walk”. We had already spent a few days worshipping and listening to Michael Hindes speak about sin, the law, and the spirit. He was absolutely filled with the Spirit and spoke truth in a powerful way. Then we went camping offsite of the training center. We were asked to pick a small fire log and write on it whatever we felt the Lord wanted us to surrender to him. I struggled with what I should write and finally wrote a few things that didn’t really seem that hard to give up. Before we started our journey, we were prayed for by our incredibly amazing and prophetic coaches for our trip. They spoke so much truth about my insecurities and fear that I just began to weep. They said that God was raising up a leader out of me but that I need to step into it and trust him in how he does it, not letting my history keep me from experiencing all he has for me. After they prayed for me, I began walking, not really knowing what God was trying to say or how to even process any of it. I mostly walked and cried and asked God question after question that I had absolutely no answers to. Then another staff who was directed where the path went stopped me and told me something I’ve heard a million times. “I am a beautiful daughter of God and my identity is in him.” I cried even more. I was a little frustrated because I thought this was something I had gotten a hold of and understood. So I prayed and asked God why he kept bringing this whole identity issue up. As I kept walking and praying and crying, I completely forgot about the log with all the other things I was surrendering on it. I had a chance on the walk to add to the log anything else God was leading me to give up. And like God always does, he had so much else in mind for me to give up than I did, so I added fear and rejection, still not understanding why. I got back to the campsite and thought I was almost done and it would be over with kinda learning something but without much clarity. I was so wrong. The campsite was only the middle. The walk turned into a hike, literally up a mountain. There was no distinct trail except for hunters tape tied to random trees and I had to follow them carrying my log with all my crap on it. The hike seemed like it would never end. But in that time I finally grasped a little bit of what Jesus was trying to speak to me. He showed me that I have this strong personality and that I could carry all this crap around with me and just appear to be okay, BUT that I don’t have to. He showed me that there was a reason he carried a heavy piece of wood on open wounds uphill and a reason why he suffered and died the way he did. The way he chose to do it was so symbolic. I could literally feel the weight of fear and rejection and the feelings of being unaccepted and unloved as I climbed that mountain. I fell down and sweat and was out of breathe a lot and all I wanted was to get to the end. When I finally got to the top, there was a cross. A place for me to give up all that I had been holding onto, all that I had been so afraid of trusting God to take care of. I don’t think I can explain in words how it felt to finally realize again that I was beautiful to God and that what others thought about me DID NOT matter in comparison to what the creator of the universe thinks of me. I layed down my fire log and picked up someone else’s to carry back down the mountain to throw in the fire. It was amazing how much lighter it felt on the way down. The symbolism in this experience weighed so much heavier than words. It went so much deeper into the core of who I am and how God has brought me to where I am. SO that was an incredible day of freedom and walking/hiking with God.
The second story is also an emotional one for me. It was later in the week and one night we were told to dress in long pants, long-sleeves, a headlamp and tennis shoes. We were then told that we were going to be doing an underground church simulation. We each got a piece of paper with a specific role we would play in a country where Christianity is illegal. When the bell rang, it was meant to be daylight and we had to be under the tent, mingling with each other. We couldn’t talk to anyone or share our role with each other. Our paper gave us specific ways we would be able to find out who played similar roles. My role was a Christian and there were 5 people in my family and we attended the Dove Church. I would know if someone else was in my family if they would exchange leaves with me. I also knew who the missionaries at my church were by offering them a leaf, them unable to accept it, and insisting they take it as a gift. Our number one priority was to keep our pastor safe. When the bell rang again, it symbolized night time and we had to be out of the tent and there were 5 safe zones with tiki lights, where we could not be arrested. Our churches also met at night but we had to figure out where they were and how to get there without getting arrested or caught. The staff were playing the role of the police. Throughout the game, I quickly found my family and the missionaries at my church who told me where to go and made it there successfully the first round. The second round, I got caught right away. I thought for sure they wouldn’t do much to me because it was just a game. BUT they made me take off my shoes and socks and walk barefoot on the rocks. Then they made me lay facedown on the red dirt right next to the garbage dump and we couldn’t say a word. Then they sprayed us with ice cold water and mocked us for our beliefs and even threatened us and our families. They did a great job of playing their role in a realistic way for our benefit of the experience. The bell rang and we had to go back to the tent. We did one more round and I made it to the church and back safely before the game ended. I was soaked from head to toe and covered in dirt and whatever else they threw on me. We sat in a circle and de-breifed a little about our emotions during this simulation. It was really emotional for me. I want to share something I wrote in my journal that night…
It convicted me and motivated me. It made me recognize the worth of what I believe and the worth of who I follow. Jesus, the Son of the living God who has all authority under his feet because he chose to suffer and die for me, is worth SO much more than 2 hours on a Sunday morning listening to words and lyrics that have no meaning without the life to back it up. Jesus’ worth has been diminished in the United States because of the lack of persecution. That simulation spoke so much to me and reminded me that when I choose to follow Jesus, I am literally dying to myself and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. That statement cannot be anymore real to those who daily face the possibility of being killed for believing in and following Jesus.
If I were to write out everything that happened this week, I would run out of room. God completely blew me away and reminded me how much I love him and his Holy Spirit. He reminded me how much I love walking in the spirit. Completely trusting in him with every step I take. He reminded me that I cannot and don’t want to do anything or go anywhere, if he does not go ahead of me. I am following him — not the other way around.
God is good and patient with me. And I am not going back to how I used to be. I’m choosing in.
