I have to admit, after Azerbaijan, it was hard to open up my heart to the next country. There is a phrase we like to use on the World Race: “Love deeply and hold loosely”. It’s the nature of our trip. How do we enter into a new place and meet new people (sometimes surrounded by a new team) and put our whole hearts into a new month while also knowing that we will have to pack up, move on, and do the same thing all over again within just a few weeks? Honestly, still trying to figure that one out, but God has been faithful to teach us how to grieve and how to love well throughout (emphasis on TEACH because I will probably always be learning about that).
First Night of the Trek
After a time of praying in the capital of Tbilisi, my team decided to spend our final two weeks together as a team by traveling to the Svaneti Region of Georgia to do a 4-day trek in the Caucasus Mountains from the villages of Mestia to Ushguli.
It’s a very popular trek that many people do every year and we went with the intent of trying to meet people along the way and share the love of Jesus in any way God would ask us to. However, after meeting absolutely no one throughout the entirety of the trek (except for a few people here and there that went on ahead of us), God made it clear that the people He was asking us to pour into was one another as a team. I typically love these times. Because our most consistent ministry is with one another as a squad, God does some amazing and beautiful things in the time we use to invest in these relationships. However, I typically am not a fan of these times when I’m the one that needs to be poured into. Gonna be real, I hate admitting that I still need help and am still in need of healing. It’s vulnerable, it’s uncomfortable, and it requires an amount of trust in others that I usually struggle to muster up. That is when God comes in.
During the first two days of the trek, I spent it mostly on my own. I walked ahead of my team, always keeping my eyes on them, but going on ahead as soon as they caught up. What they didn’t know, and what I didn’t want to bring to them was the fact that I was going through a minor form of PTSD throughout this time. You see, I was hiking the Camino de Santiago when I found out about my dad’s passing. I loved the Camino, it’s something I want to go back and do the entirety of one day, and I loved this trek as well because it reminded me of the Camino. Hiking from village to village, seeing breathtaking sights, camping under the stars at night, all of it reminded me of my time on the Camino with Z-Squad. However, with these good and beautiful memories came the difficult and overwhelming memories filled with fear and grief.
I walked ahead of my team because I was terrified and I didn’t want them to notice. Every time I saw a beautiful mountain view, I also saw the views of the Camino just days before finding out about my dad. Every morning when I woke up in a tent, I was taken back to the morning when I woke up in a tent on the Camino, just hours before I received the news. Every beautiful sight and view also brought fearful anticipation. I found myself feeling as if something horrible was going to come. Thoughts came to me, telling me that I was going to receive similar news on this trek that I received in Spain. And of course, I didn’t want to share this with my team. It seemed ridiculous. I knew these thoughts weren’t true, so why bother my team about them?
Did I mention that I’m still learning about this whole vulnerability thing?
So, on day three, my team addressed my walking habits. Turns out, hiding your hurt from others can sometimes produce more hurt. The more you learn.
So I opened up. I shared the thoughts and feelings that I was scared to share those first two days. And once they knew why I was acting this way, they simply embraced me. And you know what else, they told me not to apologize. That day, we laid all of our initial plans aside and just spent the day together as a team.
We made it!
Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s because I’ve been hurt before. Maybe it’s a lie that I’ve believed for too long. Maybe it’s a combination of the three. But when God asks us to open up and be vulnerable with others, He isn’t asking us to put our hope and our trust in them, He’s asking us to trust that HE will guard our hearts, even when the people around us fail to do so. I’ve handed my heart to others in the past, only to have it mishandled and misunderstood. And of course I don’t want to go through that again, so I keep it close to me, refusing to allow others a way in to hurt me.
But I’m understanding more and more, when God asks me to open up and be vulnerable, He’s not asking me to give my heart to others, He’s asking me to let go of my grip, to let down my walls, and to place my heart in HIS hands. That way, regardless of the reactions of those around me, He is the One holding my heart, because He is the only One that knows how.
My team supported me and loved me that day in such a beautiful way. But not every person I open up to will respond in the same way. When those moments come, I will have to be honest with myself. Whose hands are holding my heart in those moments? Is it me? Is it in the hands of other imperfect people? Or is it in the hands of the One who created it?
I will always be learning. I will always be healing. And as much as my independence-seeking western mindset hates to admit it, I will always need a community because that is how God created each and every person. He said it Himself in the garden: “It is not good for man to be alone.”
Team Spring <3
Lord, help me to forsake my pride and my preconceptions. Help me to trust YOU as You ask me to trust others. Help me to know that regardless of the outcome in those moments, I am always understood and loved by YOU.
I hope you feel the loving arms of the Father today. He created you out of love and to be loved. Know that today and every day.
-Meg
