It’s 8:45pm and I’m walking down Mt. Yonah with two good friends. We had walked up the mountain with over 100 people just a few hours earlier. We had seen a beautiful sunset and as we all hiked down at different speeds our large group got quite spread out. As the trail got darker the three of us were deep in conversation about life in high school. As my friend Harper was talking I started to think about how unfamiliar the trail we were on looked. Rather than rough rocks and bending tree branches we were walking along a wide gravelly road.

Finally I said to the girls that I thought we might be going the wrong way. When we realized the speed at which we were walking seemed not to match with the fact that we hadn’t passed or seen anyone from our much larger group in quite a long time, we remembered the turn we were supposed to take that we didn’t. Frantic, we started running down the hill, thinking maybe we could get off the trail using the path we were on. Then we got a response text from our leader:

“You went the wrong way. Go back up till you find the trail on your left.”

Discouraged because of how far we knew we had walked (and ran) in the wrong direction, we headed back up the hill. We were all out of water and Harper’s headlamp was the only thing helping us see. As we walked up we ran into two other groups of people from our group going the wrong way. We told each of them the situation and pointed them in the right direction and after an extra mile and a half of walking all 9 of us made the left turn onto the much narrower, steeper, and windier trail that would get us back to the parking lot. We hiked for another hour after that, making it about 10:15 when we finally reached our van.

Somehow, that funny hike story feels strangely fitting for this past week I’ve had at training camp. You could pull a lot of spiritual metaphors out of my story, but I think one thing I’ve been learning is how to turn around and look to Jesus, even when I think I’m going the right way. I’m learning to silence the sound of my own voice to listen to His.

I think I’ve prayed more this week than I have in my whole life. That may be dramatic, and I’m definitely exaggerating, but somehow the statement feels true. Prayer has felt a little less like tradition and a lot more like war. I am beginning to realize just how much I need God to lead me.

This week I have seen the fruit of prayers I was praying all summer. My squad of 22 people is the most incredible group here. We already treat each other like family in the best way. We spend hours learning, talking about Scripture, wrestling through our beliefs, asking questions, and, of course, playing cards together.

My squad leaders have been intentional and kind, and my immediate team of five girls has already become one of my favorite parts of this trip. They are fun, excited, and, most importantly, they love Jesus so genuinely. Each day, we have been getting to know each other more deeply by praying for one another.

And the more I pray, the more I realize how much I need His truth to guide my life, rather than the lies I often believe that lead me in the wrong direction.

On that mountain, we had no idea we were lost until something finally made us stop and question where we were going. We had been walking for a long time, convinced we were making progress.

I think that is one of the things that scares me most about following Jesus. It is possible to be moving without actually moving toward Him. At training camp they are teaching us to pray differently, not as a habit but as a lifestyle. Daily, asking God to show me where I’m wrong. Show me where I need to turn around. Show me when I need to be interruptible, opening my eyes to the people on my path that I need to see, and teaching me to recognize the sound of His voice.

As I’ve been learning to listen to His voice, He is showing me clearly where I’ve been misguided. The biggest thing He’s been gently showing me is how little I believe about who He says I am.

I didn’t know how much I struggled to see who Christ says I am, and how often His truths get blocked by the many lies about myself I believe to be true. I didn’t know how much I believed I needed to prove who I was, by competing, performing, and the pride that comes from that. I didn’t know how much I believed I didn’t have a story worth sharing, or worth loving. I didn’t know how much I have placed my identity in the things that I do rather than the words God speaks over me.

It’s amazing how being surrounded by people who speak God’s truth over you can completely change your view about yourself. People who are constantly praying for you, over you, and studying the Word of God with you. But also seeing you in a daily authentic way, living life with you.

And maybe that’s what makes that night on Mt. Yonah feel so fitting.

We were lost. We didn’t know it. We had walked farther than we realized in the wrong direction. Turning around was exhausting. But once we knew the way, we weren’t alone anymore. We had each other, a light, and someone who knew where we needed to go.

I think I’m realizing that following Jesus is a lot like that. I don’t always know where I’m going, I don’t always recognize when I’ve wandered, but I have a Savior who sees me, speaks to me, and sends people to lead me back to Him.

The more I learn about Him, the more I want to know Him more deeply. The more I listen to His voice, the more I recognize the lies I’ve believed about myself, and the more I begin to believe what He says instead. I’m so excited to see all the ways He shows up this year, and all the ways He will grow me.

As I leave training camp and get ready to serve Him abroad, I can’t wait to see Him even bigger than He is to me right now.

“Aslan,” said Lucy, “you’re bigger.”
“That is because you are older, little one,” answered he.
“Not because you are?”
“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”

— C. S. Lewis, Prince Caspian