Leaving the church, I found myself bursting into long, mournful sobs. The day I left for training camp, I got to watch my best friend marry the woman of his dreams. Inside the church where I worship on Sundays and volunteer on Wednesdays, I was able to watch something beautiful and significant happen for two people I love dearly. Something that can only bring blessings, trial, and triumph.
And I didn’t even get to stay the whole time.
There are moments in life that you know are both significant and symbolic, and this, my friends, was one.
You see, we don’t think about what it was like for Jesus, Moses, Abraham, etc (the list goes on) to leave everything and everyone they loved to go into the desert; we just know they got there.
Walking away from a building filled with people I love, in a town I love, was probably one of the hardest and most beautiful things I’ve ever had to do, and I’m honestly not quite sure how I did it. I knew I’d be back, and I knew it was only a week long, but I knew that something bigger and more significant was happening. I knew that starting in those few steps, everything was undeniably changing. I’m not sure how I got in my car and how I drove, but around 12:45am I arrived in Gainesville, GA for better or for worse.
Training camp, for me, was one of the coolest, hardest, most different weeks of my life. I found that there wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle, but I was pushed, I was stretched, I was hungry, and sometimes (true to my nature) I was salty. (For those not familiar with my usage of “salty” it is a jennie-ism for being sassy & sarcastic. Just like me.)
Weird food. New people. Overwhelming atmosphere. WHAT. HAVE. I. DONE?
For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t the feature entertainment. There are 55 people on my squad, and many of them just as outgoing (if not more so) than me. Many of them are stronger leaders, better listeners, funnier, more whatever, than me.
Whoa. This is good.
For the first time ever, I found myself kind of wherever I felt like being. In the back or to the sides being quiet, finding a person or two to chat with, or up front singing and dancing like crazy. I had no mold to fill or role to play outside of being me. Simply, Jennie.
In the evenings during worship, I found myself more reflective. No emotional highs or lows, no extreme break-throughs. I was simply okay. I was (and still am) at peace. Again, I was okay.
This is something I’ve been learning lately; Its okay to be okay.
Somewhere between our activities, group interactions, weird food and odd sleeping conditions, I realized that I was in the right place, at the right time. I experienced all of my anxiety leave, and the awesome wave of peace took over. I began to understand why the chaos of January-July happened, and I found myself celebrating the fact that I have so many things in America that I love, that its cool that I am mournful in some ways about leaving. How awesome is it to love something so much, but still know you need to have a season away? Pretty cool, if you ask me.
So many people in my life have viewed the Race as me running away. Honestly, it started out that way, but it isn’t why I chose to go. Still, there were days when I wondered if I were running to escape, and if so, why? Training camp proved to me that I’m not running away, I’m simply choosing to run towards Christ and the life I have been asked to live; a life that looks different than yours, your best friends, and anyone else we know. Maybe they share similarities, maybe not and you know what? This is good.
Our lives aren’t meant to be the same; we are called to be different. So what should we do? Lets be different.
So, how was training camp? Let me give you a glimpse: Throughout the week, I saw dead hearts come back to life. I saw people find freedom, and a new hope ignite. I saw healing, I experienced joy, and took hold of a vision. I showered once, in 40ish degree weather, once used an eno hammock as my blanket, and basically became one with red dirt. I saw my first shooting star, and spiritually, I found myself staring into the desert.
The closer and closer that this new season gets, the more and more I realize that the race will be more like a “desert” experience for me. Not that I will be alone, or malnourished spiritually, but that this is something I need to do alone. Something that requires leaving my communities and my homes, and into a foreign land with unfamiliar people. Cool, awesome, unfamiliar family. Some squadmates/squads call the World Race their “Honeymoon with Jesus”…well, that sounds nice and all, but for me? This will be spiritual boot camp; refinement. Going into the world to serve, know, and understand my sisters and brothers is going to be incredible, and I cannot wait to be in community with them, but I know that some days it won’t be pretty.
Staring into the desert, I wonder what Jesus thought as he was sent to be tested and tried for 40 days. I wonder what Moses’ fleeing thoughts were, and how Abraham took those first few steps. I wonder if they felt crazy, alone, excited or equipped. I wonder what its like on the other side; to know that they have been through the fire and have come out on the other side, more refined and defined by God than ever before.
Training camp, for me, was a reminder of the steps I am about to take to go into the world and learn more about Jesus. It was an introduction to the desert, and a taste of what is to come. It was the beginning of a promise that I will never be left or forsaken, even if there are times of silence. As I stare into the desert, I know that I am ready and willing to go.
