About two weeks ago, I drove to Georgia for my 10-day World Race training camp. It took 9 hours to get there. You would think that you’d eventually run out of things to think about after 9 hours, right? Nope. For 9 hours I made (surprisingly easy) conversation with someone I had never met, all the while playing an internalized loop of worry. “Will I even like training camp? I’m going to hate this. What if my squad doesn’t get my awkward humor? What if everyone else is already friends and I’m left out? What if everyone is already fully funded? What if my shorts aren’t long enough?!” At the end of 9 hours, while the cycle of what ifs was still playing, I pulled up to Adventures in Mission, parked the car, and got out. My 10 days of training camp had officially begun.
Whether light hearted or very real, I faced fears and experienced a LOT at training camp. While I can’t really jam (let alone articulate) 10 days’ worth of life lessons and emotions into one blog post, here are eight* things for which training camp scared and prepared me.
*I initially tried to do 11 to be cute, but that just wasn’t working out.
1. Wi-Fi
The first night of training camp I turned my phone off. And I left it off (tip: tell your parents you’re turning off your phone when you are several states away and they are already nervous people before you turn it off). As it turns out, Wi-Fi IS a problem on the Race. Because it’s everywhere. I don’t want something like Wi-Fi to keep me from experiencing the present and the people I’m with because I’m caught up with what’s going on back home. Yes, I am going to want to talk to my parents. And I will. But the point of the World Race isn’t to go to 11 different countries while never mentally leaving home.
2. Dress code
The day before training camp I spent 5 hours shopping for shorts that met the dress code (no more than 4 inches/a palm’s width above the knee). I only ended up finding three pairs. I STILL ended up over packing, making my big pack much heavier than necessary—all because I thought I needed to have a change of clothes each day. What I discovered? I was more comfortable wearing the same pair of over-sized Aladdin pants most days than the three pairs of barely-meeting-the-requirement shorts I found shopping. I’ll have more room in my big pack for things that matter, if I care less about what I’m wearing. The less skin I show (pants that cover my knees and shirts that cover my shoulders), the more opportunities I will have to enter into ministry. Sometimes less really is more, guys.
3. THE HIKE
We had a fitness test that was really a test of strength/endurance/determination/survival/true grit. We were required to hike 3 miles in under 50 minutes. This doesn’t sound so bad, right? Add 40 lbs of backpack, lots of hills, and Georgian heat, and you’re in for a “Jesus, take the wheel” moment (or 46 moments). I know there will be times during the Race that I will lose motivation, strength, and endurance. But lucky for me, I am surrounded by a squad (pinkies up) of people who are experiencing the same things, who are passionate about encouraging one another every step of the way.
4. Running water
After 10 days of bucket showers (honesty moment: only 5 of those days actually included showers, two of which included washed hair, one of which included shaved pits), I was smelling pretty nice. The great part? I now have a soft spot in my heart for cold bucket showers on sweltering days, I feel good about not wasting as much water, and I JUST DON’T CARE ABOUT SMELLING. The toilet situation? Slightly different story. I’m no princess, but there’s something about a mound of waste in the port-a-pot that just doesn’t sit well with me (lololol at the pun but not really because it really was freakishly close to the top). And why are they called port-a-pots, anyway? A more accurate name would be poop sauna. Then we went to a primitive campsite and there were no port-a-pots. I pooped in the woods, guys. There. I said it. You should try it too. It beats sitting in a poop sauna.
5. Sleeping arrangements
Okay so yeah, I didn’t exactly grow up in a camping fam. I was a little nervous setting up my tent for the first time, but I was equally excited to sleep in it. What I didn’t expect was all the times I wouldn’t be sleeping in it. One night, half of our squad had our big packs “lost at the airport”—each person who still had their big pack jumped at the opportunity to host a friend in their tent and share their things, and that was awesome. Another night we slept in the “airport” (the training center), with loud noises and bright lights. Not gonna lie, that was one of my best sleeps. We then had the camping trip night, during which no one had their tents. It was a tarp, our sleeping bags, and the great outdoors. We slept like sardines, and it was so much fun. The thing I learned from our many scenarios was the importance of adaptability, and the great joy it brings when you’re truly okay with whatever happens. The nights without my tent were some of the best.
6. I missed my mom and dad
I’m not afraid of my relationship with my parents deteriorating while I’m gone. I’m not afraid of feeling awkward around them when I come back. There is a certain fear that I carry, however, knowing that I’m going to be apart from the two humans in my life that I know will never stop loving me, no matter how much I annoy, anger, and aggravate them (why can I only think of “a” words?). I was able to see my parents the day after training camp (Father’s Day); Something my mom said to me that day made me both very happy and very sad. She told me that she and my dad were scared. A part of them has this fear that I’ll be called beyond the 11 months that lie ahead, that I won’t want to come back for the long term. And that in that fear, they recognize that even though they raised me, that before I was theirs I was His. That as much as they love me, it is not a fraction of as much as He loves me. I can’t describe what it’s like to have your mother say that to you. To have a parent who is so sure of their identity in Christ and His love for His children, that she is willing to push aside her human desires that tell her to never let her baby go in order to actually let her baby go. I can’t tell you the reassurance that brings that this is part of God’s plan, because He’s reflected it so clearly in your parents.
7. Exhaustion
I was TIRED after ten days. And I don’t just mean physically. I was mentally, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted. Training camp exhausted me in every area of my life, because it addressed every area of my life. We were spent to be filled back up. We tackled identity, shame, forgiveness, and spiritual warfare. We engaged in (and *cough cough* won) dance battles and Squad Wars. We forged friendships and formed teams, and quickly became family. All of this was exhausting, but so very filling. The way we lived in training camp was very much a model for living on the Race and in life—to live in community means to pour out and be filled.
8. Fundraising
I was hardcore stressing out about the fundraising goals I have yet to meet. But you know what? At training camp, I wasn’t alone. And it felt good. It felt good to be able to nervous laugh about how much more money we still need before we’re even able to attend launch. It felt good to be able to compare fundraising ideas with people who are going through it. It felt good to encourage one another—that even though we say we’re unsure from where our funding will come, we have the utmost confidence that He provides when He calls. One phrase that one of my teammates used was “He doesn’t call the qualified, He qualifies the called.”
And as many trivial things as I can think of to worry about, there are people who hunger to hear how much they are loved. There are people who so desperately need hope. More than I need my bed. More than I need running water. More than I need my mom and dad.
One of my friends asked me what my biggest take away was from training camp, and that was difficult for me to answer. Training camp was segmented in such a way that we looked deep inside ourselves, looked at how He looks at us, and looked at how life will be like on the field. It’s difficult to come up with one solid take away, because what we learned at training camp was such a full process. Everything was intentional. Everything worked together to pour into and fill us, and everything was in preparation. And that’s my answer. The impact of living intentionally and in a state of preparation is the concept that spoke to me above all else. Training camp scared me, sure. But fear, when given to God, creates space for Him to comfort and do radical things. And I’m ready to see some mountains move.
