The times I feel most engaged are the times in which I can effectively put into words – tangible, concrete, descriptive terms – whatever it is that I am trying to articulate.  I find my deepest insecurities rooted in being _________ inaccurately portrayed/misunderstood/wrongfully perceived/(fill in the blank with anything stemming from simply not being fully known.)  Thus, the thought of being unable to wholly express my thoughts and feelings not only irritates me, but terrifies me as well.

I therefore live with the pressure to fully empower my thoughts by aptly assigning them definite terms in a way in which my over-analytical mind deems worthy.

When attainable, such a feat is both refreshing and invigorating.

However, this, as you can imagine, is an incredibly frustrating standard to set for oneself.  The bar simply cannot be reached in all attempts to communicate.  Which leads to an all-too-common surrender to failure.  Or at least to the act of settling, to put it less dramatically.

Either way, this intense desire to flee from all ambiguity in conversation (or blogging) has proved to be entirely debilitating in my attempt to outwardly process both my summer at camp and my transition back into “the real world.”

In writing, I am wordy and vague and indefinite to say the least.    In conversation, I am flimsy and scattered and easily thwarted.

And it’s annoying.

So, needless to say, the idea of even attempting to streamline thoughts or categorize feelings or identify specific spiritual truths is…daunting…in the most extreme way.  I find myself apologizing for my inability to communicate  more than actually communicating anything at all.  I’m a disaster, and I can’t even describe how I got here.

All I can say (and all I really know) is that I am different.

And not in a “camp high, gonna fade away in a few weeks” sort of way.

But in a “I met with the Lord and He changed me” sort of way.

“Grace mixed with faith and love poured over me and into me.  And all because of Jesus.”  (1 Tim. 1:14 The Message)

And that’s the sort of thing that can’t be tied down to, or limited by, the English language.

Which brings me to my point: I want to no longer focus on how to describe my experience at camp or how to transition from camp life to real life, but instead to simply BE.  To be here, in Auburn, in this season of life, in these classes, with these people, today.  The Spirit will allow me to process what I need to process in the Lord’s timing.  How prideful of me to think that wrapping my mind around what the Lord has taught me is something I can do.  As if I had the wisdom to do so.  Ha.

I am simply here to follow.  And I trust that He will lead me where I need to be despite my inability to sort out the thousands of thoughts bouncing around in my brain.  “But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere.”  (2 Cor. 2:14 ESV)

He is leading in triumphal procession.  And He will use us to be the aroma of Christ to this broken, depraved world.

So, disaster that I may be, I will follow.  Unhindered by the frustration of lacking adequate words.  Undaunted by the brokenness of this world that our Lord has already defeated.  And unafraid to lose myself in the process.

“All those prayers are coming together now so you will do this well, fearless in your struggle, keeping a firm grip on your faith and on yourself.  After, all this is a fight we’re in.”  (1 Tim. 1:18 The Message)

Yes, Lord.  Isaiah 26:8.  Yes, Lord.

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