Let me just set the stage for you.
I spend hours packing my 65L pack. Adding and removing things so many times that when 1:30 am rolls around and I call it quits, I have no idea what’s actually in my pack. When my head finally hits the pillows it’s filled with dreams of walking around Gainesville half naked because I forgot to pack any pants. Nightmares of the airline losing my pack and therefore my entire life for the next ten days.
I arrive at the airport, check in my pack, hug moms goodbye and hop on a plane to ATL with my good ole pal Hannah Reynolds, spending the next hour and a half in nervous laughter and twiddling our thumbs which results in pen breaking (still sorry about that, Han). We land in ATL and walk the TWO MILES to the baggage claim because apparently we thought we were too physically fit to take the train (RAGRETS). By the time we get there, there are few bags left. Han and the other two racers on our flight grab there’s and mine is nowhere to be found.
I quickly ask the nearest employee if there are any more bags and he tells me to just wait a little longer. As time moves on and my pack still doesn’t appear, I start to realize my nightmare was coming true. I thought to myself, “This has to be a joke. AIM found out what flight I was on and sent Ricci ahead of me to grab my pack before I got here. This is a training simulation.” But it wasn’t joke. And it wasn’t a training simulation. And if you read my last post you’ll know that at this point in my life the spiritual attacks were adding up, and I couldn’t help but laugh to myself and say “Add it to the list.”
I didn’t cry. I wasn’t frustrated. Bummed? Sure. But I was filled with peace. A peace I can’t even begin to explain. I knew I’d be alright, I’d survive these next 10 days. Later I was out and about and heard someone sing something along the lines of “Everything I need, His hand provides.” I knew He would provide. I knew physically I had nothing, and yet I was about to receive everything I needed to not only survive, but thrive over not only those 10 days, but the next year.
And man, did God show up way beyond anything I could have ever imagined. It’s hard for me to put into words what I experienced the last week and a half. But because I now believe in the importance of my story, that my story is only a tiny blurp in His story, this is your formal invitation into my story.
Photo Cred: Zoe Torres
Our general sleeping arrangement was in our little tent city. A small slopping patch of land slightly overwhelmed with the stench of our two overflowing portos and the body odor of our squad mates. Our campsite also happened to be home to the women’s showers: a wooden shanty with 8 stalls, only 7 functioning, each containing a bucket to be filled with a hose, and a smaller measuring cup used for washing. These served all 300ish of the females at TC. Bless.
Each day was different, we were thrown into different “training scenarios” which required us to adapt quickly. We learned to rely on each other, we learned how little we really needed. And frankly we learned to sleep just about anywhere as I fell asleep on the atrium floor in the middle of the ATL airport on the way home.
Han’s face says it all.
We ate community style, 8 of us sitting around a table with 1 tray of food, dividing it equally among ourselves, learning to eat more or less of one thing to accommodate for those with allergies or other dietary restrictions. Sometimes we ate with our hands, sometimes we served each other. One day they had a giant van filled with pizza delivered to us and I cannot even begin to describe the joy under that tent.
Africa day. Photo cred: Maria Kolar.
The first few days were spent on developing us as individuals. We started and ended those days hands held high in worship, engaging in what I’d like to call yanging- yell sanging. It was loud. It was declarative. It was good.
Photo Cred: Ricci Emmons. HEY RICCI YOU’RE SO FINE. U SO FINE IMMA CALL YOU MINE.
After our marathon worship we dived into sessions. Sessions about the false identities we had developed, unforgiveness and pain. They often referenced the onion, which as we all know has to be pulled off layer by layer, AND with a lot of tears. In those first few days I didn’t have some huge epiphany or revelation. My journey began when I started applying for the race, and I was coming in in a good place. But the nights we talked about unforgiveness and pain, I could hear the cries around me. I could see the tears and my peers clinging to each other and praying over one another. And this brought me pain. My heart was heavy. I was brought to the point of tears, not because of pain from my past, but because I could feel all the pain in that room. And I could feel God telling me “This is how I feel. When you feel pain, I feel pain. This world is in pain. They’re in pain and they’re numbing it with anything and everything they can get their hands on and it’s not working because they need me. I’m sending you out into the world because Love is the answer to the question they don’t know how to ask. And it’s not going to be easy. You’re going to hurt. But to cling to me. Pursue me in the midst.”
Mid week we split into Men’s and Women’s retreats. As women we learned how to place our identities in God. We learned to take our thoughts captive and rebuke them with declarations of our identities in Christ. For me, those lies that I was letting the enemy tell me, those thoughts that I was letting take root and have power and authority over me were that I was unworthy. That I wasn’t qualified or experienced or good enough.
And the declaration I kept writing over and over and over again in my journal, was I AM A CHILD OF GOD. I AM A DAUGHTER OF THE ONE TRUE KING. I receive grace and love and forgiveness and mercy, not because of anything I have done or am doing or will do, but because that’s just who God is. He gives grace, because that’s who He is. He loves because He can and He forgives because He wants to.
Our YES moment. Yes to God. Yes to each other. Yes to the hard times and the good times and the ugly and bad and to seeing the beautiful in spite of it all. Photo cred: Ricci Emmons.
At this point in the week we are moving on to team formations. Our insanely ridiculous and dope training team were blessed with the task of dividing our squad of 41 into smaller teams of 6-7. Our sessions moved on to talk about community and giving feedback and we were thrust into various team building exercises with any variation of individuals. We went through 4 or 5 rounds of different teams, having one on ones with a trainer afterwards, evaluating different aspects of the team. One of the questions was always, “Who do you think is a leader on the squad or this team?” and/or “Who could you see yourself following?” After the third time of being asked this question, I was ready and started listing off names when my trainer politely interrupted me and said, “Do you realize everyone else sees you as a leader?” BOOM. Yo. Just hit me in the face with a giant DON’T YA KNOW, Hunter.
Remember those feelings of unworthiness? Of not feeling qualified? Let’s just pull the onion back a little more. I grew up Southern Baptist. And in this particular sect of Christianity, leaders in the church are not women. I’ve spent most of my life believing that women don’t have a voice in the church. That I was inferior to a man, just because I was created as a woman. There was a lot of shame in that. As I went to college, as I found my voice and came into my own as a leader, I desperately wanted to break out of that. I desperately believed that I could be an empty vessel for the Lord to use. That He could use me just as much as He used a man. That I wasn’t inferior, that I was strong and fierce and bold.
Also at this point in time between the yanging and the onset of a cold, I had a sore throat. So going into our last night of worship I decided to engage in silent worship. Just me and Jesus. Singing praises, shouting glory and honor, all in my head. The first song we sang was King of My Heart. This grew to be a favorite among all of us, and this time it was no different. As I sang the chorus to my sweet Dad, “You are good, you’re good, oh,” I took a deep breath, and in the absence of my voice I heard a voice singing those same words back to me. “Paige, you’re good. You are GOOD. Oh, sweet daughter. You’re never gonna let, you are NEVER gonna let me down.” And hot dang, did those tears flow. For the first time in my life, I realized that I was mirror image of Christ. I am indeed good, because He created me in His image and He is good. In my moment of doubt in myself he was telling me, “You are MINE. You are GOOD. You are a woman created in my image. You are my daughter. You are a leader. And you cannot fail me.”
Fun fact: I had the nickname Squints for a day because I broke my glasses and also lots of sun. Photo cred: Jenna Pepin on Maria Kolar’s camera.
That night we learned about the Holy Spirit. We engaged in Listening Prayer, wherein instead of sitting there listing off things we wanted or needed from God, we waited in great anticipation to hear from Him. As we gathered in groups to practice this discipline, the Holy Spirit delivered a word for me through my squad mate and sister Molly. This is some variation of what she said to me, “Paige, you are a light. A spark. This light is contagious and others feed off it and are fueled by it. The flames of others are kindled by you, but you are the first light and you need to bring light to others along the way.”
Like, what?! Okay, Jesus, I get it. Message received loud and clear, big man. So when the time for team announcements FINALLY arrived. I was ready. And man, did I receive such a blessing with this team. I was asked to be team leader, and I accepted. And I am humbled and overwhelmed to serve these ladies and to serve my Father in this capacity the next few months. To walk hand in hand with my sisters in Christ as we go out into this world as truth-bringers, torch-bearers, kingdom-builders, community-shakers, and world-changers. Let me introduce you to Team Hinematov. Taking cues from Psalm 133 and from the Hebrew phrasing of Hine Ma Tov Yachad, meaning behold how good it is to dwell in unity. A unity not just with each other, but first and foremost with our Creator.
Back row: Jenny Harms, Emma Reddekopp, Hannah Reynolds, Sara Williams, Emily Dashner. Front row: Zoe Torres, Paige Hamilton (THAT BE ME).
I feel like I just wrote a novel, but honestly it feels like I just scratched the surface of what God did in those 10 days. Which is completely overwhelming when you think that I’m about to go on an 11 month journey and if this is what God can do in 10 days, he’s going to completely ruin me in 11 months. But man, I am so thankful. For my squad (SQUAD WARS CHAMPS, CHYEA BOI). For my training team. For our leaders and mentors. For who God is. For who He created me to be. For what He’s shown me. And for everything to come.
My Tribe: iSquad. SQUAD WARS CHAMPS. When in doubt, pinkies out.
Thank you for supporting me on this journey. Thank you for taking the time to engage in my story.
Below are links to YouTube videos made by some of my squad mates that will give you further insight! Make sure to subscribe for more videos in the next year.
Maria Kolar:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aSsYrPR8n5g&authuser=0
Jason Albano:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SE8k54bUhA&authuser=0
