Jenni

Today’s a throw my hair up and wear pajamas and laze around my college dorm room kind of day. How fabulous.

I have spent the past few days in (not so sunny) Florida. For the past three years, I have attended Prayer Conference there. A bunch of academies get together to spend a little under a week at a summer camp meeting each other and sharing struggles. It's a camp meeting directed specifically to youth.

When I moved to Asheville and went to MPA, I decided I wanted to go to all of these events. I love them: walking into a room filled with tons of people I don’t know. Then a few days later walking into the same room with the same people and getting to call a majority of them my friends. There is something special about these kinds of gatherings, and I’m so thankful for the opportunities I’ve had to attend them.

Anyways, now that I’m in college, I assumed these opportunities were over. Classes are harder and missing them isn’t the smartest thing to do. However, I happen to be friends with the guy in charge of recruiting leaders to go from Southern, and so sure enough last week I found myself on the shuttle on my way once again. I must admit I felt a little ridiculous. I’m in college now. Why am I going to a high school gathering? I’m not going to fit in anymore. But the second I stepped foot onto camp, I was glad I went. And besides, I hung out so much with my old school that people probably still think I’m in high school anyways.

Because I was a group leader, I was put with a coleader and we worked together to plan four meetings in which we would meet with seven students and lead them in group discussion and games. I have been a leader before, so when my coleader expressed to me how nervous he was I tried to explain to him that he didn’t need to be. Trust me. If it’s anything like what I’ve experienced the past three years, conversation just flows. It’s nothing to worry about.

Thankfully I was right. Our group didn’t know each other from Adam, but after four short meetings we were incredibly close. We exchanged numbers and multiple hugs and notes expressing to each other the impact we had on each other's lives in that incredibly small amount of time. It’s amazing what four hours of honesty can do.

All to say…..there was a girl in my group named Jenni. She’s a senior at the high school near my college. When she walked over to our group on the first day, I noticed that she walked a little funny. Her feet pointed out in opposite directions, and every step seemed to take great effort. But I didn’t give it much thought, as I only watched her walk a few feet. I assumed I wasn’t seeing things right.

We started playing the icebreakers we had planned, things that involved quick movement and switching places. “Is it okay if I don’t participate?” she asked me. I looked at her sadly. The purpose of icebreakers is to get everyone involved. I found it frustrating she refused to be part. “If you don’t want to,” I replied.

We finished up the meeting, talking about views on God and how that changes every aspect of our lives and all sorts of different things. And then we all separated. I watched as Jenny slowly walked away. That’s when I realized I hadn’t made it up. She had trouble with her legs.

The next meeting my coleader and I decided to take everyone to the spring. We were going to have them pick up rocks to represent things holding them back and then throw them into the water…a symbol of letting go. Well, first we had to take a walk over to the woods to find the rocks. The group was walking quickly, and Jenni was falling behind. I slowed down, asking her a question about her school, trying to make it look like I had a reason for slowing down, not that I just felt bad because she was behind everyone else.

We picked up the rocks and made our way over to the spring. It was a long walk. I purposefully stayed behind with Jenni, and when we were getting close she looked at me and said, “Are we almost there? I don’t think I can make it.” My heart sank. The whole purpose of this was to be a freeing experience, and Jenni was hurting. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to hold her up and make her feel like a cripple. I didn’t want to run over and tell my coleader to carry her and embarrass her. So I just walked beside her. Ya Jenni. We are almost there. I’m so sorry. I could see the tears in her eyes.

Later that day we played Green Socks with another group. It involved running around and switching places. Idiot. I thought to myself. Why didn’t I think of this before? Why didn’t I specify to the other leaders we needed to play games that involved standing still? "I need to go to the bathroom," Jenni told me when we announced the game. She stayed in there until it was over.

I was so angry at myself. I kept forgetting about Jenni. I kept forgetting she wasn’t like the rest of us. I kept forgetting it was a struggle for her to walk. I couldn’t find the balance between helping her and not making her feel inferior.

Friday night we always have a special program. We do a foot washing and communion. Beforehand, they announced that they wanted us to pair up with someone from our group of the same gender. I walked into the gym  and couldn’t see anyone from mine. A couple minutes later I turned around and saw Jenni walk in. As soon as she saw me, she came straight over to where I was standing. “Oh!” she said, “Thank goodness I found you! I was so worried I wouldn’t find you."

My heart stopped. There were five other girls in our group she could have paired up with. But she wanted me. She had been looking for me, the one who kept forgetting about her. The one who kept leaving her behind.

I have never felt so honored to wash someone’s feet. I watched her struggle to take off her shoes and socks. We laughed at the fact the water was cold. We held hands as we prayed together. And when we hugged good-bye afterward, I told her we should catch lunch together sometime since we go to school near each other. “Oh my goodness! Yes!” she said, “In fact, I wrote that in your note!” She was so excited.

So often in life I fail others. And so often in life others fail me. But I wouldn’t say it’s often that I hurt someone, only to see him or her walk into a room desperately looking for me. Life is fragile, and it is best lived with open arms and forgiveness. Everyone's a little handicapped. And it's best to live seeking to understand more than to be understood. 

Jenni taught me that.