I feel more alive now than the past 30 years combined. As I reflect over the past 2 weeks of training camp, it is difficult to fathom (as usual) all the growth, goodness and love just absolutely dumped onto me during my time in Georgia. For so long I actually believed following Jesus would make me this rule-following robot with no mind of my own. In reality, every day I spend pursuing Him I become more myself than ever before, each day building on the last. 

The endless love, encouragement, affirmation, and support He has lavished over me through the amazing people I’ve been surrounded by has left me in pieces…over and over and over again. At times I’m reduced to a puddle on the floor as He overwhelms me with infinite, uninhibited love. I break repeatedly as He speaks directly to my heart who I am. He burns my insecurities as I watch, while filling me to the measure with confidence all the flattery and compliments that 7 billion people couldn’t attempt to provide. He told me how proud He is of me, that I am strong and that my obedience is not overlooked. He told me I am a shepherd, that He will give me genuine friendships among women and that I have the gift of ministering to them (the group of people the old me abused the most). He told me I am free, that I am made new, and I don’t have to continue to apologize for the things He has completely erased and restored. He told me I will leave a trail of flourishing love in my wake everywhere I go as His light shines through me and before me. He told me that just like King David, I am a man after God’s own heart...something I prayed for repeatedly but never really thought was attainable but more of just a pursuit and a heart posture. 

My journey with worship has been a testimony in itself. In my pagan days (believing but not following), I was always attacked during worship time even though it was only really Christmas and Easter services I attended. I was typically fine as soon as the message started but until then I was continually crushed by insecurity and anxiety so thick I could almost see it. This wasn’t a huge deal, it just became my “smoke break” time and I’d move on. But when I gave my life to Him, the battle with worship continued. I would have beautiful moments praising Him in my car but when it came to public worship, I was fighting but felt as though I was losing. This became a source of continued frustration as it became something I desired deeply but couldn’t seem to attain. I think it’s also important to note I’ve always been passionate about singing but plagued by extreme insecurity with my voice ESPECIALLY during public worship. I’ll also note that even at my absolute BEST, I worshiped from the back row only, hands never above my hips. Day 1 of training camp in the conference room of a hotel and the stage in the middle (someone in my state’s worst nightmare with the “all eyes on me feeling”), I still battled but for the first time I worshiped like I meant it: hands high at full voice. Each proceeding day at worship, He brought me to a new level of uninhibited praise and a new level of surrender as His goodness crashed over me, wave after wave, after wave. You can now find me in the front row, hands raised on my knees unashamed, singing like never before, not even at my most favorite and memorable concerts. There’s been times I’ve felt I couldn’t get closer to Heaven without being there, singing notes I’ve never heard before as if the God of all creation had His hands wrapped gently around my vocal cords. The amount of people who have approached me on their own accord, repeatedly complimenting not only my voice but the way I praise with reckless abandon and how it spurs them on to worship shamelessly, is nothing short of astounding. 

I’ve been led to share much of this with incredible teammates, many times as an absolute sobbing mess. To the point I’ve had to let them know that these days, the tears of sorrow are few and far between. These may be ugly cries but they are beautiful tears. I’ve fully embraced the power of vulnerability, thanks in part to my Step-Dad. I learned the hard way long ago it takes much more of a man to cry than it does to stuff it down let it boil over as anger at a later date and on innocent bystanders. God completed the teaching and I’ve learned to wear my tears with pride. To be intentional, not only in the way I express my strength, but equally as important, my weaknesses. He’s also taught me that the greatest leaders are in fact, the greatest servants. 

I spend most of my time speechless at the work He has done in and through me since last summer and throughout this training camp. We’re shipping out to our first stop, Guatemala, and I can’t begin to fathom the work He’s about to do through me and my teammates over the course of this next year. Most of you reading this are directly responsible for all of this…your prayers, encouragement, obedience, and support truly made all of this possible. I pray you will continue to follow along on this incredible journey and encourage others to do the same. I love you all so very much and can’t wait to see Him work in and grow each of you while I’m away. Until next time…

Love Always,

Jordan