So many questions have been asked about training camp. I have wanted to blog so many times and gotten overwhelmed because I realize in order to tell it all, I’d have to write a book. So finally, weeks later, I’m ready to share the thing that if I had to pick I would say was the most beautiful. It’s a long read, but it’s my whole heart. So if you want to know where I’m at as I walk into the next year, brace yourself. This is my testimony.
When I was 6 years old, I decided I wanted a life with Jesus. No, I didn’t have any idea what that looked like. But I knew who He was and I wanted more of that. So I decided to start walking with Him.
At first, we walked hand in hand, like the child I was. But as I grew I desired independence. I walked away so often. Some times to do good, and the Lord cheered me on. But more often, I ignored His cries of caution and found myself wounded, crying, and wondering why He was so far away.
The thing about distance though, is that the longer it’s there, the less you notice it. I started becoming used to seeking my own desires. And because I wasn’t consciously aware of my path I ended up places I never dreamed, not really knowing how it had come to that.
The worst place of all was almost 4 years ago. For a while I felt like I had been walking in the same sin over and over and this place was full of consequences of that life. I wept on the floor of a dorm shower and felt like I was dying. I still loved my God, but my life reflected only hypocrisy and I saw no way out. But there had to be, because I was a Christian, and God promises forgiveness. So I told almost no one what was happening. I dealt with the situation and moved on. I prayed asking for forgiveness and swore I would never go back. But I did.
I felt trapped. Even when I began to cut that sin out of my life, I felt trapped by something else. Shame. Shame said a lot of things to me, and it is so much different from guilt. See, guilt is rational and a little easier to address. It says, “I did something wrong. I need to repent. I’m sorry.” Shame is not that logical. It says, “I am what’s wrong. I’m sorry, but I’m so broken I don’t know if that will change anything.”
So that’s where I was. A cycle of asking for forgiveness but still feeling to weak and dirty to live a new life. The shame of my secret sin was like a constant flashing neon sign to me. I worried what people would say if they found out, because I’d heard them talk about others in the same spot. I pushed it deeper.
Then, more recently, I was truly introduced to the Holy Spirit. Y’all He’s ballin. For real. Most of my life, I thought the Holy Spirit was just my conscience. Man was I missing out. Because just in the last year I have seen Him move, heal physical and spiritual needs, speak, and unite people over and over and over. Seeing truth in action lit something inside of me. I heard people share similar stories and watched freedom fall on them. I wanted that. Bad.
I wanted someone to know what I had been through and tell me I wasn’t crazy. I needed someone to lift the weight off of me, but I didn’t want to say it out loud. I wanted God to speak to someone on my behalf. Now let me be clear, I don’t think that we need a “go between” for forgiveness from God. I had simply listened to shame for so long, I didn’t trust my own thoughts on the truth of God. I needed someone to validate them.
And He sent them to me. I spent a weekend in Campbellsville at Ignite America, a conference that just seeks to unite college campuses for Christ. Again, I saw the Holy Spirit move. I cried, craving and longing to feel Him for myself. Mama Judy saw my tears as she prayed over Lucas and I and asked if I had anything I needed to tell her. That was all I needed, an invitation, and I blurted it out. She brought another woman over to me and they laid their hands on me as they prayed. They spoke directly into every fear I had about the situation. They spoke life back into me as I felt every weight break off of me. I wept and mourned my past life for the first time. My whole body cried out for healing and I felt the Lord just holding me, hushing me. He knew everything all along and was waiting for me to rest in Him.
Shame told me God was distant from me and all the things I saw Him doing were for other people. I knew these lies would make me a spiritual target on the field and I couldn’t bear the thought of that. So I left the lies with my tears that night and walked away in a new freedom I had never known. My God really was mine and no one could take Him from me, not even myself.
And this is all before training camp…
So as I left for training camp, I’m relishing in this new found freedom but questioning what this means for my salvation. If this is the first time I felt free, was I a Christian before? This thought was challenged even more as Teresa spoke on evangelism at training. As she gave us a tool for sharing the Gospel with others, I felt a burning within myself. You may have heard this symbolism of faith; if I look at this chair and say it’s good and strong, but I refuse to sit in it, do I really trust it? I heard this many times. But she added something else. She said Jesus wants to say, “I don’t need you to tell me I’m a chair.”
And suddenly it clicked. That’s what I had done. I knew this chair top to bottom. I knew the fabric, its pattern and color. I knew the length of the arm rest and how many buttons ran down the side. I knew all the options of reclining. I claimed the chair as my own! I talked it up and had even shown others the benefit of buying a chair just like mine. But not until that prayer at ignite had I sat down in the chair. In reality, I collapsed in the chair and it surrounded me. Since then I had be sprawling out over it, really getting comfortable.
So now what do I do? I asked her that. I wanted a direct statement, but instead she asked me another question; in which moment, when I was 6 or at Ignite, did I feel like I came to life? That was obvious to me. So do I get baptized? That’s what you do when you become a Christian right? If I do that I have to tell people what happened before. I don’t know if I’m ready for that. If I do get baptized why am I doing it? I’ve always wanted to get baptized in Israel, can I just wait until then? I still felt unsure of what to do. But she prayed with me and I continued to ask God for some guidance.
The last day of training was Squad Wars, and staff told us that at the last training camp they did a baptism afterward. It went so well that they wanted to give us that opportunity, too. So one by one I watched my squadmates and other racers sit in the pool and commit to a life of radically walking with the One who freed them. I was internally exploding to say the least. I wept, again. And my thoughts raced.
Okay. If I do this, why am I doing it? Because I feel freedom and understand forgiveness for the first time. What about waiting until Israel? This is for something so different. I don’t need to cover it up. I wish Luke and my family were here. Would they really want me to wait? Do I really need to do this now? I mean what am I waiting for? This is my family. This is the community I’ve been praying for and I will never have them in the same spot, they’ve committed to walking with me intentional and deeply for the next year, why not start now? Is this just emotional? I don’t know but it’s not going away so I have to do something.
And with that I unlaced my tennis shoes. I caught my team leader super off guard by asking her to be the one to baptize me and we got in the water together. She asked me if I knew my savior and if I wanted to walk with Him for the rest of my life. I said yes, almost with a sigh of relief. I went under the water and came up to face about a million tears and hugs. People not just giving me a pat on the back for being a good Christian, but welcoming me into the family and rejoicing in the triumph over my suffering. There were a few more baptisms, and then we shouted in joy a song of worship.
I have never been more aware that something big was happening in heaven. Not only were the angels rejoicing and dancing with us, but they were putting on their armor, walking ahead of us into battle.
But wait! There’s more!
Seriously. God is so good. So after we spent some time celebrating and just being with our squads, I was pulled aside. RJ, a squadmate, said that after baptism the Lord gave him a vision of me. Guess what I was doing… SITTING IN A CHAIR. Yep. He said I was sitting there with my head laid back just smiling, and there were flood waters rushing around me. I couldn’t even believe it. He said he thought Jesus just wanted me to know that the floods wouldn’t stop when I came home.
I had told RJ nothing of the chair. The Lord used him to speak directly to me, just like I asked, and affirm that this baptism was indeed what He wanted from me and that I could be assured He would never leave me. The chair I had seen all along was His throne. When I was to broken to stand, Jesus Christ stood up and let me sit in His place. Dang.
So you may be asking what this means of my first baptism? Well, I don’t think it’s invalidated. This was not a “rededication” of my life to Christ. When I was 6, I said I wanted life with Jesus and I wanted to be united with Him in Heaven. That’s still true. For me this baptism was a submission to His authority in my life. An act of submission that brought more freedom, forgiveness, and life than I ever understood before. The woman who prayed over me took a weight of for me, but I was still called to action and to respond to that. That’s what this baptism was for me. I have to say, I never imagined being baptized with pigtails and red paint all over, but I can’t imagine anything more perfect.
It’s amazing to see how the Lord has been working on me from the beginning. Everything He does is so connected and well thought out. Seeing that connection makes everything He does more intimate, because I know He didn’t just start showing up. He’s loved me forever, even when I wasn’t paying attention.
I have nothing left to hide.
Everyone in the center was baptized, the rest of our squads literally surrounded us in prayer. The image of a united army.
This is everyone on my squad that was baptized. Their stories are equally as heartfelt.
My sweet team leader, Shannon, who agreed to baptize me immediately and loves me so well. I cannot wait for the year with her!
A couple of my brothers. Zach on the left and Tim on the right.
August 29 is now not only Zach’s physical birthday, but spiritual birthday! What a freaking good day.
