Monday, July 6, 2015

Careful What You Pray For

I've spent the last week trying to come up with something to say about my week as a counselor at Emerge Junior High Camp. There's about a thousand different things that happened that I could talk about but there was one specific thing that hit me today that I really want to say.

The week was really hard, especially the first few days. I really didn't know very many people and I hadn't been to Woodland Lakes since I was in middle school, so naturally a few things have changed since then. We'd lost two family group leaders before camp even started and I therefore didn't know half of my team until the day before so it was hard to find a dynamic with no prior bonding time. I'd never led a discussion before, and suddenly there I was, in a position where I had to lead discussions. On top of all this, I was very unsure as soon as I met the campers. I didn't know how to handle them. I told my girls at the end of the week that I was really intimidated the first time I met them, and they all giggled and said "Really?!?" They couldn't believe it, but it was true.

The whole week I had to rely on God for my strength, which is something I'd never had to do; at least not that much. I was constantly asking God to use me through my weaknesses and mistakes. I felt like a failure at least half of the time. The most glaring failure as I saw it was on Wednesday night when we had interactive worship. Interactive worship was basically a collection of 6 different stations each relating to themes of the week. We traveled around as a family group to each station before heading to family time where we were given the opportunity to discuss it. It went fairly well through most of the stations, but I was started to get worn out by the end.

The very last station we went to was one of my favorite concepts. On display were assorted items made out of old broken junk. There was a chair made out of old suitcases and a lamp made of a broken clarinet, among other similar things. The point of the station was to realize that we are all broken, but God can turn us into something beautiful that can be used for his purpose. They also left piles of old things on the ground for kids to pick up a couple items and turn them into something new.

Since we were there last, the items were mostly picked over. I started telling the students about the station, but ended up mostly just reading off my paper and not asking questions to let them sort of figure out the point themselves, which I was kicking myself for. Every question I tried to ask got no response. And the whole thing really just fell completely flat. The station was set up so that two family groups could be there at once, so while all this was going on there was another family group next to us. In the awkward silence that was dragging on in our group, I could hear the other group having lots of conversation, reading bible verses and making good comments. There were literal crickets coming from our end (the station happened to be outside). I felt absolutely terrible, and led our group away from the station early.

When I was praying that God would use me through my mistakes, what I actually wanted him to do was make me stop having mistakes so everything would go smoothly and really get to the kids.  I didn't realize this was what I wanted, but it was. My intentions were pure, but my methods weren't quite right. Here's the thing; if you pray that God will use you through your mistakes, that means there will be mistakes. That wasn't something that had occurred to me, and it was none too pleasant to find out.

God may have answered my prayer. I like to think he did. I've heard that a lot of times when God uses people, they may never even find out about it. I did have good moments with my campers. Seeing them pull out notes they had taken during the sermon was always rewarding for me, especially when they had questions. Every once in a while I saw one of them step out and do something brave, which was cool to watch. The whole week was not as catastrophic as Wednesday night felt, or I probably wouldn't be missing it so much right now.

I hope that God used me in ways I don't know about. I trust that he did. But what hit me most is that God's methods are not the same as my own. His are harder and often not what I expect. But I have to trust that ultimately, his work better.

Ironic that the very thing that brought this realization on was a lesson about God using brokenness.

Lisa

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