Recently, my church held a camping weekend woman’s retreat, they called it “Woman Camp”.
Ten years ago, if you had told me I would be signing up for a camping trip for 500 women only – voluntarily – I would have thought you were crazy. Sure I had attended plenty of women-only events… out of sheer obligation, but not excitedly. And I didn’t really feel like I fit in when I was there, I just didn’t relate.
In case you don’t know me, I am exactly equal parts fashionista and tomboy; which means you’re just as likely to catch me barefoot as you are in AWESOME stilettos. My best friends had almost exclusively always been guys and that’s who I spent time with.
If you were a female, you had to be not “chick-like”, but love shoes as much as me, to be invited into my circle. Chicks were crazy, high-maintenance and drama, I said.
And then, after a few years of experiencing hurt and neglect and verbal abuse and rejection, I became one of the crazy chicks. I suddenly understood all their feelings and irrational behaviors for the first time. I found myself acting out, just as irrationally.
I experienced the “why” behind their “what”, the root behind their fruit (as Jennifer Beckham would say), firsthand.
And that’s when it happened: My heart broke for them. All of them. From the most meek and timid and insecure, to the most angry and bitter and malicious, because under the surface they were all dealing with the same root(s), and so was I. I got it.
My heart softened toward them. I started listening to them instead of talking about them. Many of their stories were so similar to mine.
And then, I got mad. I saw how easily the enemy manipulates and abuses this gender – my gender. And in my heart, an agape love for these people was cultivated.
And then a handful of beautiful girls stepped alongside me and showed me what a sisterhood looks like. They loved me relentlessly and graciously accepted all my parts – the good, the bad, the tomboy and the ugly. 😉 And I wanted to do the same for them.
It didn’t take long before all the pieces fit together, and a PASSION for leading women out of bondage and shame, fear and isolation and into freedom, healing, wholeness and restoration was born in my soul.
That’s what this Woman Camp weekend was about for me – getting to be a part of that movement in Cincinnati, inside my church community. I got a glimpse of what that passion looks like coming to fruition. I wanted a front row seat to watch God do incredible, miraculous things in and through women. And I was excited to be a part of or help facilitate lives changing in any way I could.
This weekend was also a time of refreshing and worship away with my Father. It was Him showing me his plans and visions for me, once again. Him reminding me that He is handling everything, from every angle, and I’m just along for the ride – Safe. Protected. Provisioned. Called. Chosen. Anointed. Unqualified, but made qualified for this task through Him.
Let the veils stay lifted away and burned for each of us, and a clear picture of who God says we are and is calling us to be be branded in our mind’s eye. Our God has so much more for us. We are free women. No longer slaves to fear. We are children of God.
