Retreat! Surrender?

Throughout history, men have been taking on battles too big for them to fight.  As humans I think it's so easy to get caught up in our ideas, in our beliefs, in our pride, that we often dive into waters too deep for us to safely swim in.  We take on the weight of the world, and slowly sink down.  Hopefully, there's someone who is strong enough to yell "Fall back!" Turn around! Drop your swords! Run to a place of safety.

Thursday night, I received a really challenging email from my discipleship group leader, who was encouraging me to apply to go on a mission project to North Africa this summer.   I've thought about missions before, as I'm sure you know.  But in October, I had decided that this summer, I wanted to stay in Ottawa.  I wanted to be active in my community.  I wanted to have friends from home visit me, I wanted to spend time exploring the city.  I wanted to have a full time job, so that I'd be financially secure for the coming year.   And even if I changed my mind, the application was due on Monday, and I was going on a retreat with the Grace Youth Group (GYG) for the weekend.

Sometimes I wonder how many flags, neon signs or flashing lights it takes me to tell me I'm going the wrong way.  You know when you are trying to get someone's attention and they are just so oblivious?  Does God laugh or get frustrated?

Without really having made a decision, I spent Friday afternoon frantically ran around trying to cook a dinner I could bring, and get all my things together for the retreat.  Well fed and with enough stuff to last weeks, I was on the road with Emma (another leader) and three junior high girls.  What a trip.  Being trapped in a car with people for a few hours is such a good way to get to know eachother.  It was also extremely entertaining, the girls spent much of the trip obsessing about Star Wars or the Backstreet Boys,  their giggles become more beautiful as the candy they were eating got to their heads.  We arrived safely at Camp Iawah, without getting lost or getting too frustrated with incessant questions - "how much farther, are we almost there, are we there yet, where are we..." from the girls, or without racking up too bad of a phone bill from calls between cars, ensuring we were all still together.  There were around 150 people at the retreat, which was called "Toque." We began with some amusing games, great worship, an introduction to our speaker, and a snack.  By the time the festivities ended around 10:30, we were all pretty tired, and as we'd registered late, there was no room for us to stay at the camp, so we were instead staying at a church in Westport, about 20 minutes away.

We piled back into our cars, arranged ourselves in our convoy positions: First Curtis' (the youth director) truck, then Sam's Van, and Emma's car in the rear, and proceded down the snowy, windy, hilly road out of camp.  In the few hours we'd been there, fresh snow had fallen on top of the fairly thick layer which was already there.  It was beautiful, until the poor car tried to make it up a steep hill.  We stopped, mid hill, stuck, and not really sure what to do.  It was really dark, and kind of impossible to see out the back window.  Emma tried to get it up, but we just kept getting more stuck.  After a few minutes, Sam came running down the hill to find us. But when he tried to back down the hill, we ended up in a snow bank.  A few minutes later, Curtis and all the boys came running along too.  Curtis had the girls stand on the side, and we watched as all the boys pushed the car up the hill.

I didn't like standing there, making sure my girls were out of the way of the car, watching all the guys push it up the hill.  Maybe it's because I have a need to prove that I'm strong, I can look after and help myself.  To some extent, I think it's even just to prove it to myself: because I want to know that if something happens to me and there's nobody there to help, I'll be ok.  And to some extent, I think I'm scared that people will get tired of taking care of me.

But we did get up the hill, and we did make it to the church, which was toasty warm, and there was a bag of homemade cookies to meet us. Sleep came pretty fast.

Saturday morning I woke up before the girls in order to spend some time with God.  As I was praying, He led me to read Romans 12 (You can read it by clicking here!)  God has been teaching me incredible things in the last few weeks.  As I read through Romans 12, I felt really convicted.  Because I was reading:

Jennifer, if you really want to worship me, leave the world behind.  If you want to know what my will is, you need to know me, you need to be willing to know me more.  You need to trust me.
Jennifer, I have blessed you with gifts that you haven't even really discovered the depth of yet.  Look for them! Look for opportunities to use them! Don't shrivel up in shyness! 
Jennifer, be filled with love.  Love as I do, let your love be selfless.  Serve others. Bless others.  There is so much brokenness in the world, and only my love can over come it.  If you have joy, then who are you to hold it just for yourself? What do I really mean in your life if you aren't willing to shine for me? 

I decided then that I was going to apply, but more out of compliance than willingness.  Soon I was surrounded with the group, making sure everyone was up and ready to go: complete with mitts, hats, extra clothes, extra socks.  Everyone piled into the cars to get to camp for breakfast, which was followed by our main session, group time, and then lunch. (By which point I was realizing what a treat it is to just show up for a meal!)

After lunch was play time! Being rather injured from a collision on the canal last week, I just watched the intesne game of tackling and trying to win possession of a giant ball, rubber chickens, and even some leaders.   When everyone was cold and tired, the group inside, and Emma, Sam, and I trudged off to find out if skating on the lake would be possible or not.

Given that after a few steps onto the lake we were literally walking on water, as the ice squished down beneath our feet, and we found ourselves standing in puddles, skating there was a no go. We  found an interesting sleight which we pulled up a hill full of snow and tried a few times though.  I loved just being able to fall down in the snow, and laugh as we tried to make the ride faster by rolling down the hill to pack some snow down.  We spent a few hours relaxing inside, (I may never willingly play Uno again!), and then went to a little rink for a quick skate before dinner.

At dinner I was feeling conflicted about applying again.  As we went to worship after, I just fell to my knees in prayer.

You know those times when you just need to hear something, or notice something beautiful, or maybe even just be smacked in the back of the head? It was one of those times.  The songs were just what I needed to sing and pray through.  When our speaker came up, she decided to scrap her plans and tell her testimony: and as she spoke, I felt like it could have been my story, until she got to mid-university.

When I reflect on my years in University, I want to have a story worth telling. And when it  comes to not  wanting to leave my life behind to do something incredible: when am I going to have a better time to do it? My only real restriction is finances - which really, when I think about more than just the next few years, it's such a small concern.   And so I committed to applying, and trusting.  And then I was able to worship in spirit and truth.  I was able to spend the evening just singing to God.

(And we didn't get stuck on the way back to the church!)

Retreating is turning around before it's too late, running back to the place you belong.  A place of safety, of refuge.  I think I need to practice retreating from myself.  I need to stop trying to live in my own strength, prove my abilities, strive for my plans, work for my dreams, build a life on my own.  I need to stop trying to have power in my life.  Even if it was a battle I could win, I know the results wouldn't be anything good.

Sunday morning I stood outside a quaint little church in the quiet of the morning, packing sleeping bags and mattresses and backpacks into the truck.  A super light snow was falling, and as I waited for the youth to bring their things to me, I watched as tiny snowflakes landed on my sleeves.  I've learned in science, and in art classes that snowflakes are intricate combinations of ice crystals, each unique.  But I never realized that you could actually see them with the naked eye.  I guess I've only ever seen snowflakes clinging together in lumps.  I was mesmerized by the tiny, sparkling shapes as they fell and slowly melted away on my sweater.  

I'm waving the white flag, and the only stand I'm taking is to tell myself to fall back.

Because when I really surrender, when I really run to God, life is beautiful.  When I really surrender, I can see through his eyes.  I can see deeper beauty.  I can see deeper brokenness.  I'll be able to find the path I'm supposed to take - and it will be glorious.