Putting down roots

This week was the youth minister’s retreat here at camp, and one of the first things we talked about in our small groups was the last time we truly felt joy in our lives. And wouldn’t you know it, I could honestly say that the last time I felt joy was yesterday.

After the 8 day retreat, I had kind of a hard time coming back into the “real world” (which is funny in itself; most people come to Covecrest to get away from the real world, but it’s what my real world consists of now...); it felt really jarring to come out of 8 days of silence and complete, intimate closeness with Jesus and to be thrust immediately into the work of preparing for groups to come in...I mean, literally, not four hours had passed before we were welcoming in buses full of teens. The last thing I wanted to do that day was serve; all I wanted to do was go back to the chapel and listen to Jesus talk to me again.

I immediately became frustrated with myself, because I thought I was so ready after the 8 day to enter back into the rhythm of life here at Covecrest; I felt like I was strong enough to serve joyfully, to pray without ceasing, to become a missionary exemplar, a saint-in-the-making, if you will. And I failed. Terribly. That first day back, all I did was complain, I didn’t pray until evening, I found community difficult. Ugh. Square one, all over again. And so the next few days found me spending time in the chapel or on a work project feeling incompetent, incapable—rather worthless, to tell the truth.

But I came to a realization through prayer yesterday: it really has nothing to do with what I do anyway.

Granted, this is not a new realization (I mean, I didn’t even cry for this one...), rather something that is being renewed in me every day I’m here. I’ve come to understand my life, my faith, in terms of how God views me, rather than how I view Him. Everyday life might be hard, but Jesus is constantly reminding me of His love for me. Underneath all my incompetence, my ineptitude, I hear His voice whispering to me, “Beloved, you are worth more.”

I am more than I think myself to be—not by any virtue of my own, but by His gaze, His touch, His deeming me worthy. Jesus loves me like no other. I still can’t really fathom it, understand it, or ever really return it completely. But I think I am beginning to understand what it means to love Jesus through my love of others. I know I fail (quite a bit), but I’m convinced that this is the next “step” on my journey toward holiness: learning how to perfect my love of others, which is really a perfection of my love for God. Pray for me—I’ll need a lot of help.