Today I went to REI for the first time.
Ever.
I know, I know, GASP. I’m a little embarrassed about it.
I’m going on this worldwide trip and I’ve really only been “camping” one time. And just for background information and justification on my part, let me tell you about this little one time. This camping excursion was in 6th grade. And I got “tsunamied” on (okay, not really a tsunami). By an Iowa “hurricane” (okay, not really a hurricane). My friend’s dad screamed “every man for himself,” at 3 a.m. when our tent collapsed. I ended up sleeping in a stranger’s tent, wearing her husband’s t-shirt and sweatpants because mine had been soaked through on the sprint from my teeny collapsed tent to their ginormous one.
Holy.
Crap.
Am I really doing this?
This was my thought midway through my REI visit. Some pippy, young thing with Justin Bieber tossing hair was asking me questions about sleeping bag climates and explaining the THREE CONTINENTS he’s been on and all I could think was, “Well crap (maybe a worse word was said here). I am completely, unequivocally inadequate.”
Ugh.
When I walked into REI, I think I was expecting to be welcomed into some secret club or something. Like maybe they would have bright balloons and khaki colored party hats and confetti and they would say, “This is your first time, Christi? Welcome to the most incredible life experience you’re about to have. The best is yet to come and we start here, today, together on this adventure. Let’s figure this out.”
Only they didn’t say that. Instead some nice but bumbling women took 20 minutes to figure out how to make a registry and then told me they didn’t have enough people to help me “personally figure this out.” And then a sweaty old man with a comb over rolled his eyes every time I said, “I don’t know,” when he asked me location questions and climate questions and gosh darn it every single type of question, question. I just, JUST, wanted to cry.
But I didn’t.
Because really, I know its not them.
It’s me.
They didn’t have the party hats and I was disappointed.
I felt alone and scared walking into REI and when the world didn’t throw me a welcoming party, I only felt more alone and scared. And when pippy Justin Bieber knew more than I did about setting up a tent, he only triggered this sense of inadequacy that looms about on dark days. And when sweaty man rolled his eyes at me when I didn’t know the answer to my exact altitude when I visit Nepal, I only felt more uncertain about all the uncertainty in all of my unanswered questions I have and will continue to have.
So instead, today, I conquered a little. I asked questions and held my ground. Maybe it was shaky ground, but I held it. I chose items the best I could and when I felt like I needed to cry, I called it a day.
And then I cried.
In my car.
Biebs wasn’t there. Neither was Sweaty Man. It was just me and God. And as my heart hurt and my head felt heavy and defeated, He met me there. He always does, doesn’t he? And he reminded me that I am called.
The REI employees, while knowledgeable, aren’t my judge of adequacy or certainty, He is. God calls the everyman. The every woman in this case. The unexpected and the average are often His choices for amazing, above average, greatness.
I’m His choice today.
And goodness I’m reminded of so many incredible, average, and especially flawed women in the Bible that God used: Esther, Mary, Rahab, Tamar, Ruth, Naomi, the woman at the well.
They inspire thousands of women each day. They inspire me.
And God whispers, “So Christi, why not you?”
And he’s right. Here we go. Lets all be brave.
