Discovering I’m NOT the Worst Teammate Ever & that My Voice Matters

I went into training camp with the hope of getting to know as many people as possible. I wanted to start building connections and reach a place where my squad felt more like family than strangers. I also went with the expectation that God was going to wreck me, at some point, over some issue I probably thought I had dealt with long ago. 

But for the first few days, I awkwardly hung around the same few people over and over again, as typical shy Molly began to surface. I didn’t know what to do with myself. What is small talk and how do I do it? How do you approach a stranger and get to know the real them in a matter of minutes? How do I actually act like myself without putting up walls or worse – creating a persona I think they’d like and act like that? 

 

On top of feeling like a social outcast, every session continued to be on subjects that I was pretty confident God had already been dealing with me on. Identity. Forgiveness. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ve been on this journey for years now — I think it’s safe to say that none of this is new information for me. I know who I am. I’ve already made my lists and forgiven everyone on there. I’m good. So let’s go ahead, check out and write down that list of things I should add to my packing list. 

 

By day 3, I was frustrated and angry. Down time would be spent verbally thrashing myself for being a terrible teammate.

 

As time went on, and I continued to give in to my fears, ignoring the Holy Spirit’s leading and then beating myself up even more for ignoring it. Thoughts of failing God, disappointing God, being a terrible human being and the worst teammate EVER circled my mind like a CD stuck on repeat. 

 

By day 5, I was convinced I was in fact a terrible teammate and that my squad would be a million times better off without me. They didn’t need the dead weight. 

 

One night, the girls of the squad were gathered together for a time of fellowship, worship, and encouragement. At one point they passed around pieces of paper and told us to write a lie we had chosen to believe, or a sin that was keeping us in bondage. The lies were folded up and placed on a table in the center. We were then told to grab a lie from the pile and hold it in our hands. Knowing that this was something another girl in the circle was believing about herself was devastating. If I chose to believe I was ugly, then whatever, that was on me. But seeing that another girl was battling thoughts of being ugly, unworthy, or stupid — that broke my heart. Why? Because no one should believe that about themselves, and I wanted everyone to see themselves as God saw them. 

 

But wait. Don’t I believe some of those very same things about myself? Why aren’t I seeing myself as God sees me? 

 

We prayed together, and ripped the pieces of paper to shreds for one another. Releasing each girl from the lies and bondage she had hanging over her life. And in that moment, I actually did feel free. The lies had ceased and I was standing there feeling lighter than I had in years. I felt loved, I felt accepted, and I felt like I belonged with my squad for the first time. And then we returned to camp.

 

The moment I climbed into my tent, the lies came flooding back. I knew they were an attack, why else would I be battling all of this immediately after experiencing a breakthrough? Even knowing they were lies, I still felt immobilized. Forget hanging out with the girls. Forget climbing out of bed for that shower. Forget processing everything that happened today. 

 

So I sat there, hunched over my journal trying my best not to cry as sounds of laughter surrounded my tiny tent. Part of me longed to climb out and join them, to keep building connections, to feel like I was a part of the squad. And yet I couldn’t move. Not joining them just made the lies that much louder, seeming to validate their supposed truths. I didn’t belong here. No one liked me. I would never be a part of this squad. 

 

 

That was the extent of my journaling. Unable to think of anything as the lies repeated over and over again, I finally resorted to sleep. With headphones shoved in my ears, I attempted to drown out the lies with worship music. By the following morning the lies had grown quieter, but their damage was already done. 

 

Failure. Disappointment. Unworthy. Unlovable. Unimportant. Invisible. Forgettable. Terrible Human Being. Worst Teammate Ever. 

 

As I looked at everything I had already failed to accomplish (in my mind at least), I began to try and make up for it with smiles & friendly banter. Which only made me feel even worse about myself because I knew they weren’t genuine. None of that was me, it was simply me trying to become someone they’d like. 

 

Despite the love and sense of pride I felt towards my squad, as well as my smaller team of 7, I still found myself leaving training camp with some overwhelming feelings of being unimportant, invisible, and ultimately a failure because I felt that I hadn’t bonded with a single person. I didn’t want to talk about training camp, I didn’t want to blog about it. In fact, I had even decided to limit my blogging from here on out because I didn’t & wouldn’t have anything important to share. Nobody would care about what I had to say, AND there was no way I’d ever be able to capture my experiences the way everyone else on the squad apparently could. Every conversation about the World Race lacked in enthusiasm and sincerity, almost as if I had rehearsed the lines. 

 

A few days ago, shortly after deciding I wasn’t going to blog again until I launched, I got a text out of the blue.

“Share your stories. They matter. They are needed. You matter. You are needed.” 

 

I remember staring at that text before shaking my head and going “FINE GOD! I’ll write about it!”. But, I still didn’t know what to blog about. So, I opened up a voice memo on my phone and started talking to God. 15 minutes later and I’m so emotional I can barely finish driving home. Immediately upon arrival I hurried to my room, crawled into bed and played the memo back to myself. Emotionally and physically drained, I cried myself to sleep at 6:30pm. 

 

The following day, I dug out my journal from camp and started flipping through it. Remembering for the first time a conversation I had with one of the trainers – “Your voice matters, its important”. Reading those words, I lost it. The crying began again, as I hastily underlined, circled, and underlined that phrase some more. A few pages later the phrase “Your story matters” appears with giant stars on either side of it, and everything God’s been trying to get through to me finally hits. 

 

I’m sure there are people out there that don’t care about what I have to say. They don’t care about what I’m learning, or the experiences I’ll be going through. But God does, and he’s already used my voice & my stories to help other people. Sometimes, I just need a little reminding. And that’s exactly what God’s been doing today, reminding me of all the times my words & stories have helped, encouraged, or comforted both those around me, and people I’ve never even met. 

But when it’s all said and done, the devil’s attacks will never truly be done. As long as I continue to pursue God, the lies that I’m not good enough or unimportant, will continue to try and gain foothold in my life. It’s up to me to remember just WHO I am in Christ, and how God sees me. God has already called me worthy, God has already decided that I’m important. God gave me something to share, something that I, and only I have to offer those around me. And the best part is, it’s the same for you. God handcrafted each one of us for a unique purpose, with unique gifts. There is no one else on earth that could fill our shoes, and we’ve all been called to a task that only we can do. I’m certain that there are people in this world that only you can reach. Just as there are people in this world that only I can reach. 

 

It’s up to us to decide what voices we will or will not listen to. Are we going to listen to the voices telling us that we’re ugly, worthless, and unlovable? Or are we going to listen to the voice telling us that he loves us, he calls us worthy, and he thinks we’re beautiful? 

 

And when the lies do come, remember, that’s exactly what they are — LIES! If we can view them as lies, right from the get go, half the battle will have already been won. So please, don’t absorb the lies, validate their “truths” with your own misconceptions, and wallow in self pity for 2 weeks like I’ve done.

 

Because in the end, you are important. You do matter. You are a valued member of the kingdom. You do have something to offer. You do have a purpose. You are needed.

 

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