Set the Scene: 40 degree weather, port o johns, 55 strangers, layered and smelly clothes, lots of dust, dance parties and freakishly cold showers from a hose.
No breathing room. 55 strangers pack into a tent and wonder who in this tent will love and know them at the end of this journey. It’s overwhelming to stare at a group of people knowing that this time next year they’ll be members of my family. It’s bizarre, exhilarating, and freakishly intimidating all at the same time.
I’ve never been bombarded with so many insecurities, fears, convictions or dreams as I have been over the last five days.
From the beginning of this journey, the Lord has commanded that I take this step of faith and prostrate myself before Him. He never told me that this would be easy. These past 10 days have assured me that they will not be. But I am learning of His incredible ability to heal the brokenness of His sons and daughters.
Picture a grandfather clock. As you smooth your hand down the dark cherry wood and move your fingers among the intricate carvings, you can’t help but admire the brilliant artistry. It’s so grand. It’s so beautiful. It’s so intimidating. As I open the glass door that seeks to conceal the inner workings, I find what I expect to see: Consistency. Steadiness. Control. Structure. Aw yes, every knob in place, every wheel in perfect rotation.
Training camp is teaching me something about this steady, controlled, and organized piece of art though. Like a whisper last night, I felt the Lord tell me that my expectations of Him are a little too clean and entirely too structured. I’ve boxed Him up, quite literally, into that packaged clock and never dreamed that organizing the Lord was leaving no room for Him to increase in power and majesty in my life.
I’ve tried to make Him logical. I’ve tried to love the Lord with my mind and MAKE HIM WORK. I’ve tried to put Him in a place where I could wrap my mind around His greatness. I’ve forgotten to love the Lord with all of my heart and with all my soul.
This week leaves me broken. I’ve forgotten how to love with more than my mind. He has been teaching me how to love with my heart by working with those precious kids in Peru, but now He’s asking that I apply it to every aspect of my life. It’ll be difficult. I’m not a big fan of vulnerability and weakness. This training experience has demonstrated the joy that is found in that vulnerability and brokenness though. Those 55 strangers are no longer strangers, but already well on their way to becoming family. I’ve cried in front of them. I’ve “gushed” in front of them. I’ve been weak in front of them. (Erica, I even RAN in front of them…)
I’ve been vulnerable with them in ways that I haven’t let friends from Birmingham ever see. Training camp was a brief taste of the brokenness, vulnerability, and hardship that we will face next year. Call me crazy, but I’m excited and ready. The Lord is about to demolish that grandfather clock and show us how REAL and PRESENT He is. I don’t really know how to let Him out of that box yet. I don’t know how to relinquish control and love Him with more than my mind. But I’m about to learn, and I have a unified team there to help me walk through it.
I say, “Bring it on.”
