Warning: Long blog post ahead!
To be honest, the first night was a blur. There were so many new faces and introductions, it was hard to soak it in. Although, I do remember an incredible amount of hugs. Surprisingly, that first night wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be. I pondered what would happen if I would just be myself, and then all of a sudden, I was myself. We set up our tents, played some games, and made our way to worship in the training center (where all six of the squads leaving in September would meet for sessions and such). Worship was incredible. There’s something about a room of 250ish strangers worshipping Jesus together. From all over the states and even the world, from different squads and different denominations, there we were. Scared and unsure of what was coming for us, but finding peace giving glory to the one in control.
I spent each day at training camp bonding with my squad (the 50 people I’ll be traveling with) and getting to know my team (the five incredible ladies I’ll be living with on the field). Each day represented a different part of the world, in which we learned to adjust to the food, dress code, and rules of the culture. We had an “adventure day”, “travel day”, and a “coming home” day as well, to make the experience even more realistic. We spent lots of time in sessions, diving deep into the Bible, the Holy Spirit, and the technicalities of serving Jesus in various ministries.
We were challenged by a 2.2 mile hike in 38 minutes with our gear on our backs, as well as various field scenarios. One scenario represented a long layover, in which we had to stay in the training center all night with only our day packs and sleeping pads + bags. We all squished together, not allowed to move the chairs, and the lights and airport sounds stayed on all night. For another scenario, our squad had to squish once again into what I think was four/five family tents. This time, with all our stuff. This represented when your ministry host doesn’t have lots of room. Our squad also split all of our big backpacks onto two separate tarps for a scenario. Then, all the bags on one tarp were no longer accessible. This represented gear getting misplaced during travel. We all teamed up with someone whose bag was on the opposite tarp and shared a tent and whatever else for a night (my backpack was safe, so I welcomed Grace into my sad Walmart tent. Sorry, Grace. Haha!)
So how was training camp for me? What did I learn? What was hard? What was awesome?
What better way to answer those questions then with some good ole joy, junk, and Jesus! If you’ve never heard of joy, junk, and Jesus, no worries, it’s pretty self explanatory.
Joy: There are so many joys I could write about, I don’t know where to start. The people are most definitely a joy. They are all the leaders and dreamers from their churches and hometowns, so when they all come together in one place, it’s beautiful to see so many powerhouses for the Kingdom. Their humility and inclusiveness amazed me, and their love didn’t feel like a fluffy honeymoon-phase love, but instead a steady, unconditional love. They’re definitely not perfect, but their genuineness about their lives and struggles helped us to bond better and pray for each other. Another joy of mine was playing my ukulele throughout the week. Whether it was playing How He Loves while we did dishes, or playing You’ve Got a Friend In Me in our dance for squad wars, I loved watching worship and community unfold with just a few strums of my out of tune uke.
Junk: Surprisingly, my junk wasn’t the iffy food or the cold bucket showers with spiders and wasps in the curtain stalls. If anything, the iffy food ended up bringing joy, because near the end of camp, I had never been so excited to hear the word, “cookie.” I wouldn’t have been so excited if the food was typical. Same with the sketchy showers. They created bonding experiences, like when Zahli killed the spider for me (I’m endlessly grateful). My junk was probably the spiritual attack around hearing about the Holy Spirit so much, and leaning on God’s Word and my discernment. I’ve felt the Holy Spirit and trusted the Bible and my discernment my whole life, but I was encountering it in new ways, and I could feel the spiritual warfare around me and in me. Also, the first day we did the hike, I couldn’t do it. A little over halfway through it, I found myself alone, with three teammates ahead and two behind me. I felt awful. I figured I’d wait for the two behind me to catch up, so I sat down. That was when the shadows of the tree seemed to move, which sketched me the heck out. I heard Emma, one of my teammates, call out behind me, “Keep going, Rachel!” I got a burst of confidence and told myself I was fine. I could do it. I’d make it up the hill. But by the top of the hill, my feet weren’t moving the way I wanted them too, and one of the staff members stopped me. Pride kicked in. I tried to convince her multiple times to let me keep going. Sam, one of the training camp speakers, came by and said she was going to carry my pack. Like an exhausted fool, I literally responded with, “No.” After some convincing, I walked with Sam in the opposite direction of the rest of the hike, towards the finish line, as she carried my pack for me. I felt ashamed, disappointed in myself, and weak in every way. Because if I couldn’t finish a physical hike that lasts 38 minutes, how would I survive a nine month Race of emotion?
Jesus: Jesus was all over training camp in moments and stories that would take many blog posts to explain. One of my favorite moments He orchestrated was bright and early the day after the hike. At 6:30am, all the teams that had people who didn’t complete hike, were to hike again. It took every ounce of faith to not set myself up for failure, but the fear of failure still swarmed my mind. It was earlier than my body was used to, in hills my body wasn’t used to, after a week of food my body wasn’t used to, around people I just met. But there was nothing left to do but eat a banana, pray with my team, look them in the eye when they encouraged me, and trust God. At some point I can’t remember, one of my squadmates, Hunter, ran up alongside me. Turns out, pretty much our entire squad (most of them did not have to do the hike again!) woke up early and were waiting all over campus at every curve. The guys on our squad had taken it upon themselves to run again with us. From early on in the hike, Hunter told me he was going to run beside me the entire hike, and that he would see God get me through it. He said every voice in my head telling me I couldn’t do it was the enemy. “Breathe in the Holy Spirit, breathe out doubt,” he said. But it was so hard. I probably told Hunter, “I can’t do this,” and “I’m going to puke,” at least a dozen times each. I don’t know when it hit me, but there came a point when it finally sunk in:
I really, truly, actually, could. not. do it.
But with that new information came a peace I didn’t understand. Because you see, I had reached the end of my rope. Either I was going to puke and pass out, or Hunter and my squadmates would have to carry me across the finish line, or God Himself would have to give me the strength, because Rachel Lynn Flemmer was spent.
Then the weirdest thing happened. My feet kept moving. When I walked, Hunter reminded me to make my walking count. When I ran, my squadmates would take my hand for a moment and run alongside me, shouting encouragement I can barely remember because I was so half asleep/dead. When I came to one of the final stretches, Shadrach, one of our squad leaders, ran alongside me and countered every negative comment I could muster with a positive one, until I was repeating after him, “I am not tired!” When I was sure the hike would kill me, I looked up at the sunrise and couldn’t help but think God was lighting the path. And when I collapsed at the finish line with four minutes to spare and my squadmates helped me to my feet, I understood.
I couldn’t do it, alone.
So all in all, there’s a lot I don’t understand about myself, life, Jesus, and even training camp. But I understand why I needed to be stopped the first day of that hike. I needed to learn that I couldn’t do that hike on my strength alone, just like I can’t go through the next nine months, or life in general, running on my strength alone. This lesson shaped a lot of training camp for me, as I found freedom releasing many struggles, friendships, fears, and hurts to Him. I didn’t have to be strong anymore; I don’t have to be strong anymore. His strength is more than enough.
2 Corinthians 12:9-10, NLT – Each time he said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. That’s why I take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
Thank you all for reading! I love you all. Also, subscribe here to my blog, and check out my fellow teammates blogs as well! Their names are:
Daniella Shdo
Jordan Schaeffer
Maggie McDivitt
Ashley Wilcox
Emma Swanson
Below you can copy and paste the links to a video I made, and a video a fellow Racer made of training camp! Enjoy!
Keep the faith!
