Out of the Boat


My time in Colorado has come to an end so quickly. Like I said, I could go on and on about my time here, diving into each story, but I’m trying to learn to keep things short (for your sake and mine.)

Yesterday I went to my last wrangler breakfast, which is an early morning breakfast hosted in the woods by the horse wranglers here at camp. I’ve been going to wrangler breakfast every day for the last month, struggling through the early morning wake-up calls and the occasional mechanical problems I encountered on the prehistoric truck I drove every morning, and yet loving every minute of it.

Each morning I got the chance to be an honorary horse wrangler, spending my time between the barn and that little clearing in the woods, getting to know each of the families, and getting a good look at what God was going to craft each day before the sun was even awake.

For the final breakfast, the horse wranglers decided it was my final right of passage to do the morning talk in order to be considered an honorary member of their family. I shook it off, saying I wasn’t nervous at all and that I was totally fine with talking in front of 50 strangers at 8am, but you and I both know that was a lie.

I stood up there, feeling like I wanted to crawl under a table, and I talked about Peter, about how he stepped out of the boat to walk across the stormy seas with Jesus. I talked about how this job was miles outside of my comfort zone, both in its expectations and its location. I’ve never been to family camp, never spent a month anywhere outside of North Carolina, much less by myself. I’ve never worked so heavily and consistently as a photographer. I talked about how this month has taught me how to live outside of my comfort zone and to be with Him in a way I never have before. I’ve been given the chance meet some incredible friends and to find another piece of myself there in the valley, for which I am forever grateful.

I shuffled my feet across the worn dirt, feeling a hundred eyes on me, and realized this is where I’d stepped out of the boat, not onto the surface of a storm, rather into a point of collision between myself and what God has planned for me.

Are you in the boat or have you stepped out?


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