I want to start with a (true) short story:
I was sitting on a rooftop of a hostel in Bangkok, Thailand for our Debrief at the beginning of February. The whole squad was up there for a worship session.
And I was feeling it. I had my eyes closed, palms up, worshipping and loving it. Really getting my worship groove on, you know.
For whatever reason, I opened my eyes for a second, turned to my right, and—
Discovered my teammate reading my journal like it was the day’s newspaper.
“ARE YOU SERIOUS!?” I yell-whispered. “YOU ARE THE WORST.”
I actually wasn’t angry at all because, as my teammte found out, I don’t write juicy stuff in my journal.
“Literally, Brittni. This is all just Scripture and your notes. No angsty stuff.” She flipped my journal back to me.
She’s right; my journal is not that exciting of a source on the documentation of my personal life. I’m quite terrible at journaling.
I tell this story because, well, I got angsty a few days ago, and actually wrote it down. So now, when I’m reunited with that now-ex-teammate, she’ll already know the story.
I also just came out of a month where my team’s vulnerability was at an all-time high. My team of 9 girls lived in a tiny, tiny house. I actually would call it an office. I couldn’t exit or enter a room without stepping over someone or drilling a teammate with a body part (elbow, knee, butt, heel, you name it), but it taught me how powerful perspective is; and we chose to laugh and have grace with each other. No conversations could be private, so our vulnerability was on point as we sat shoulder-to shoulder in Bible studies and our personal time. Any and all angst was on the table, sometimes literally, at all times. So maybe that’s why sharing my journal feels a little more natural, haha.
Anyways, it’s now the end of March and we recently had another Debrief. This was different, though, because we had squad-wide team changes.
And that was no joke for me- I now have something “interesting” written in my journal.
Before the two months of Galistry, I was on an incredible team that I kind of secretly hoped would get put back together at this Debrief. It was an unrealistic expectation, I know. I went into the team changes knowing that this probably wasn’t going to happen, but I still went into this team change with a lot of hope: these would be our final teams for the Race, so it had to be good, right? My friends I’ve become closest to over the last 4-8 months would undoubtedly end up on my team. They’re my home-away-from-home, my people. I like, need them; we’ve been through so much, how would I get through the rest of the Race without them?
If you’re seeing my flawed logic and thinking, congratulations. You win. I know. It’s just that I thought that I was in the clear; I have struggled with insecurity and competition in friendships, and God has worked a lot with me on the Race about it and I had finally thought I was in a healthy and cool place with it all. I was even comfortable with counting at least a couple of them among my “best friends,” a term that has caused angst and fear in the past. I was looking forward to my last few months with people I loved and trusted to love me back.
When I looked atmy piece of paper with my new team I saw, through eyes already flooding with tears, that not a single one of my “close friends” would be with me for the rest of the Race.
*Cue headache that I always get when I hold back tears.* God, couldn’t I have had just one?
It wasn’t that I had major personal problems with anyone on my new team, and it wasn’t that I didn’t see where I had gained-it was that I could only think about what I’d lost.
I knew I wasn’t the only one feeling this way, but I selfishly indulged in a pity party. I felt left out, anxious, and sad. I slapped on (what I thought would pass as) a neutral face as I stood up and was introduced with my new team to the squad. As people mingled afterwards, I heard the question “How do you feel about the team changes?” about a hundered times, and I would shake my head as I choked up even thinking about it, backing out of conversations.
As a new team, we had to go out and make a memory together. My headache intensified, as did my urge to burst into tears. I tried not to dwell on my new team, my old team, any team: I would cry if I did.
I did cry, later. A lot. I was broken-hearted. I had a lot to mourn as the reality set in that I would not be doing life with “my people.” I was almost thankful to have something so good to be so sad about. But mostly, I was just sad. I fell asleep that night, far from peace.
And so, at 3:45AM on my 23rd birthday, God woke me up to wrestle this thing out. Alright God, I said in my head, you seriously want to talk about this? Now?
I cried some more. I said some angry things. I cried. Thought sad and angry thoughts. I knew I couldn’t change anything and I truly did want to move on, but then I would get overwhelmed at just the thought of the loneliness I perceived my new team to spell out. I didn’t fall asleep again, but I did decide that I wouldn’t cry anymore because it was now my birthday, and I would spend it not crying or fighting a headache. I thought I had peace about it as I resolved that the only thing I could do was (pretend to) trust the Lord. Which, when I’m pretending, looks like me just avoiding my angst-which is what I did that day.
So my birthday was wonderful! I loved that the squad was all together to make my birthday extra special.
I spent part of my birthday day meditating on a word from God that one of our squad’s coaches had had for me the first night of Debrief: unshakeable. I have had others say something similar to me, speaking into my apparent steadfastness in previous team dynamics. When I got the word “unshakeable,” this time though, God immediately showed me that He was telling me that it was He who is unshakeable. My unshakeability comes from Him: my unshakeable identity in Him, His unshakeable love, His unshakeable Kingdom. My unshakeable God. So as I meditated on this word, I looked up the word “shaken” in my Bible app and wrote down every relevant verse that describes how/why God’s people will never be shaken.
I even made a pretty little picture out of the verses. My journal-reading-ex-teammate will have something different to look at the next time she picked it up.
The next day, though, I found myself walking home from a cafe fighting (more) (stupid) tears. I got to my hostel room and gave into the tears being frozen into icicles by the AC. Finally, I turned to God.
“I am literally dreading this new season, Jesus. I’ve spent too much time being sick of feeling insecure in friendships. I’m sick of trying and I’m sick of feeling lonely. I thought you’d already taught me about insecurity and friends. I dont want this again. What are you doing?”
Pretty promptly, He reminded me about my word, unshakeable. He reminded me that He’s unshakeable. I looked over the verses I’d written down. I focused on one that I’d really liked, Acts 2: 25-26 that is quoting David:
” ‘I saw the Lord always before me.
Because he is at my right hand,
I will not be shaken.
Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body will also rest in hope.’ “
After I read that, I prayed a simple, true prayer:
“God, you are unshakeable, and I feel shakeable. Like, stupidly shakeable. SOS.”
Then He said (and I could hardly believe He was so gentle after all my roller coaster emotions towards Him), “That’s because you’re looking for friends, for humans, to always be before you and to be at your right hand. But no human, in any context, can even do that. Your teammates, your friends, even a future husband can’t be “always before” you and always with you. Your expectations and desire for that will crush you and your relationships. My word says I will be always before you and always at your right hand. I am the only one able to keep that promise. Look for me. “
And then, unshakeabley, my heart will be glad, my tongue will genuinely rejoice, and my body will rest in hope (and finally stop freaking crying. Gosh.)
Did I tear up, again, at the bus station in Honduras? Ugh, yes, I did. But I also have already memorized that verse from Acts and repeat it to myself all the time. Whenever I find myself wishing this friend or that friend was here, I speak the truth: that it’s the Lord I’m determined to look for.
I think Jesus has wanted true friendship with me for awhile, and I’m starting to see that this team change wasn’t about what I wanted (I mean, it never really is, haha), but about what I needed, and I can finally, truly rest in that. I know that there is something I need here, something “more,” and not anything “less,” not for a moment. Jesus doesn’t have less for us. Never. And with that truth, I can be excited and expectant in this new season of friendship with the Lord, when I look for Him to be always before me and always beside me.
