Training Camp.
Wow.
Where do I even begin?
I could talk about the time the airport “lost” some of our baggage and we had to rely on each other for help, or the time when we couldn’t cross the border so we had to sleep on a bus, or when we went to a market in Africa and had to have our entire squad fed within the hour while trying to deal with beggars, prostitutes, pickpocketers, language barriers—the whole works.
I could talk about all of our awesome dance parties, or having to walk for half an hour with all of our packs. I could go on and on and on.
All of these experiences were incredible, but that’s not what stood out for me this week. That was not what it was all about.
This week was all about my saviour, lover, and best friend: Jesus.
To describe this week, it was like someone taking a fire hose and putting it on full blast at me. I couldn’t come up for air. I was blasted spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and physically.
There was so much brokenness, pain, and hurt that bubbled up to the surface. Years of wounds that had scarred over, some that I even didn’t recognize or believe to be past hurts were brought back up and were cut open again. All the pus that had festered way too long inside of me had to get out.
Tears were shed. Tears of grief, tears of loss, and tears of joy. I usually keep my emotions in check, so it’s hard for people to gage how I’m really feeling. However, I felt so safe and loved at Training Camp. I was able to be real with my squad mates and really work through what I was feeling.
At training camp I was healed. Chains were broken. Chains that held me down for way too long.
I was set free.
I am still broken and I have so much to process and work on, but I’ve never felt so free knowing whom I rest in.
From those quiet moments worshiping God at the crack of dawn reveling in His beauty, to dancing with my daddy during worship, I’m in total awe of His unconditional love for me.
I’m young and free. Oh so free.
