I’m not kidding, training camp ruined me.
And it’s taken a while for me to really grasp what happened in those ten days. At first, it was the physical part. I was exhausted, hungry, (extremely) dirty, and worn out… But it was only day two. I wasn’t used to sleeping on the floor, or using a measuring cup to bathe myself, or eating lentils. And then, God broke me.
It only took two days of removal from my “oh so comfortable” life to break me.
I discovered I was a ridiculously picky eater and half of the time what was laying on the platter in front of me was everything but pleasant. So, He broke me and every bite became a blessing. All I could think was, ” Megan, are you kidding? This is it. This is what you have to eat and if you don’t eat it then it’s on you”. But isn’t that right? I was so used to going into the refrigerator to snack on last nights spaghetti leftovers that I forgot, food isn’t a luxury, its for survival.
I discovered I liked showers, but not bucket showers. I only showered twice in ten days. It was gross, I had a very distinct aroma following me around, and Febreeze became my new best friend. But again, I was lucky enough to have a safe place to shower with clean water.
It’s hard to put into words what training camp does to you, but I can say with confidence, God broke me to rebuild me.
When I walked into training camp I had this mentality that I would be OK. I’d been camping before. I wasn’t a picky eater (ha). I could fall asleep anywhere. And those ten days got nothin’ on me.
And then I realized it’s OK to not be OK. I found myself on my knees during worship thanking God for what he had given me that day and never in a million years did I think I’d thank God for orange, clay-stained feet and matted hair.
Well, where does my heart lie now?
I’m no longer a slave to fear, I am a child of God. I’m not afraid of the unknown or of the broken and God has handpicked my team and I to carry the good news.
Without a doubt in my mind, as unqualified as I may seem, this is where He needs me.
