Going into week
three of city hosting, I was extremely confident. After some extreme conflict
with my map during staff training, I felt we had resolved some major issues and
a summer love had started to bloom. Directions were starting to become really
fun for me. Oh, Map 54 K-1 to Map 58 B-2 you say? Challenge accepted. I also felt
like I had been doing an exceptional job being able to connect with each of the
two unique groups I had the previous weeks. To top it all off, I was having so
much fun serving alongside my groups at all the different ministry sites. So as
week three was approaching, I was on my high horse. I was made for this job. It
couldn’t be easier for me. Little did I know.
This would be an
interesting week, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Like I said, I was made for
this job. I had it down. I can handle
challenges presented by other people. I’m flexible.
I’m available. I can be teachable. Definitely F.A.T.
Come Thursday, I
realized that I was the most challenging part of the week. The students and
leaders were needing to be F.A.T. for me and not the other way around. I had misread
the schedule and thought we weren’t supposed to be at our next site until 1,
not the actual time we were supposed to be there, 12:30, and currently, I had
led our group to I have no idea, New Jersey. We miraculously arrived but 45
minutes late. When we got there I escaped to the bathroom and sat in a stall
crying. I had officially given myself the “World’s Worst Host” title. I know
what you’re thinking. Overreaction. Late one day? It happens. But did I mention
we had arrived 30 minutes late to our site the previous day courtesy of , you
guessed it, me? I like to blame it on the vortex of what is the Ben Franklin
Parkway of Philly, but if I am being real, I just use that as a means to not
dent my pride.
My students were
starting to notice. When students start to notice, it is not a good sign. And
they started to only remember all the times I got them lost, and not the times
I actually got them places in a timely manner and with no wrong turns. Those
times outweighed our lost times, but they didn’t remember that. I had to finish strong. I had to prove that I knew where
I was going. It was Friday. If I finished this day without messing up, then
they would only remember that last day. A good day. Our first site that day was
30 minutes outside Philly. Okay, that’s fine. I have directions. We missed one
turn, and we immediately got back on track, but the kids didn’t miss that wrong
turn for a second. We got back to the city fine for the most part. They got to
explore the city on their own for a few hours that afternoon. I only had one
major place left to get them that night. Our restaurant. It was only 2 main
turns from Old City Philly. Easy enough.
“Kathleen, do
you know where you’re going?” “Yes.”
15 minutes later
we were on the Ben Franklin Bridge to New Jersey. This officially made it the
worst week of my life. Really, God? You were supposed to throw me a bone here.
Instead, I am now in New Jersey. I was really beginning to hate New Jersey. It
gave me nothing but trouble. We eventually joined the groups at dinner. Late. I
was so discouraged. I did not want to hand out those CSM evaluations that
night. I didn’t want to know what they had to say.
Still super
discouraged and with a bruised ego, I reluctantly gave them their CSM evaluations.
What I read that night after they were all turned in was not what I expected at
all. I can’t tell you how many students wrote how much they appreciated me and my
hard work. They noted my directions weren’t perfect, but they still appreciated
me. And they still got so much out of all the sites. What? How? It was God’s
way of telling me, “Chin up, my dear. You are relying too much on yourself. There is no way this summer is going to work
if you keep that up. No, this week wasn’t perfect. And you messed up a lot.
You’re not perfect, but that’s okay because I am. And I will use all of your
mistakes for good. And I did. And I will continue.” What started as the most discouraging
week of my life ended with so much encouragement. I was so humbled. I fully
expect more challenging weeks like this to come. Fortunately, God can use my
mistakes as much as my victories.
Now I can look
back say, “hey, remember that time I accidentally led a group into New Jersey?”
and laugh. I mean somebody had to cross that bridge first (pun intended).
But the group that comes in on Sunday doesn’t have to know about that. Thank God for fresh starts. Never again will I underestimate 2 Corinthians 5:17. The old has gone. The new has come. Because really, the new group is coming, and as far as they are concerned, I am a directions expert.
But the group that comes in on Sunday doesn’t have to know about that. Thank God for fresh starts. Never again will I underestimate 2 Corinthians 5:17. The old has gone. The new has come. Because really, the new group is coming, and as far as they are concerned, I am a directions expert.
- Kathleen, CSM Philadelphia Summer 2012 City Host
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2 comments:
Kathleen! Thank you for your humility and authentic words. I am so thankful to hear that the group was kind and encouraging. Funny how we can get so overwhelmed with the little details (directions) - when in the grand scheme of things - everything's perfectly alright.
Praying today that you continue to grow on this journey and that you are at peace with the whole directions element. Know that God is right there beside you through each and every group this summer.
Great post! Can't wait to arrive in Philly this Sunday with my group from Ky!
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