I feel like a completely different person.
I mean this most sincerely. I feel as if the person that rode in a car from Indianapolis, IN to somewhere between North Carolina, Georgia, and Tennessee, is not the same person that is writing this blog from the same location. I'm sitting in a log chair on the deck of a little kiosk overlooking a field full of multi-colored tents full of family members who six and a half days ago were complete strangers.
And I feel like a completely different person.
No, I take that back. I KNOW that I am a completely different person. And I say that not only because its true, but because I find it to be the only way for me to articulate what this week has meant to me. In short, I felt sort of boisterous and awkward on a Saturday night, was broken on a Monday night, and was raised up mightily last night.
I'm sure that there was some specific prompt that we were supposed to follow with this blog – we were instructed to blog at least once during training camp in order to let people know what was going on, but I'm sure there were other details I missed or forgot – but I'm not sure I could explain it right now. I'm still processing. I'm still praying. I'm still being changed.
What I can tell you is that I have been changed by God and for God, by people and for people. The Spirit has bubbled up in me and gushed out in away that has left me aghast and humbled.
Maybe in my next post, when I'm not having to pack up a tent and march to a new location to spend the night, I will tell you about the rushing wind of the Spirit, and the IDP/human trafficking exercise, and carrying logs across a lake, and Team Shemah.
But right now, I think the important thing to know is that the Peter Owens you knew a week ago no longer exists. He's given his place to a brand new one, one that isn't going anywhere anytime soon.
