That trash heap in the backside of your camp

I had never been to the Lake Bradley Christian Conference Center, but always heard it was beautiful. So Friday morning, my parents, kids, and I piled in my dad’s truck and headed down to Bandon, Oregon to meet with the beautiful ladies of Trail Christian Fellowship for their women’s retreat. They had graciously arranged a hotel near the conference center for my parents and kids to enjoy so that I could spend time with them during free time.

So we made the five hour drive, and just when we thought there was no way it could be any farther away, we spotted the small sign “Lake Bradley Christian Conference Center.” I did think that it would be a bit bigger, but we pulled in and followed a narrow gravel drive, around a bend, and found ourselves in front of:

A trash heap.

An old warehouse/barn had shelves of old boats and recreational gear. Broken down cars sat there, along with an enormous trash heap piled high with debris and even an old Lazy Boy recliner. 

My mom was the first one to speak: “I am not leaving you here.”

Now my mind raced. “They had said Lake Bradley, right? I really thought this place would be nicer!”

Finally, of course, I got a hold of the Retreat Director and she let us know we had pulled in one driveway too soon.

We were in the backside of the camp.

We drove a 50 yard farther up the road and found the real entrance, and yes it was much bigger. We pulled in a wide and grand entrance to see acres of lush, perfectly manicured grass. Everything was immaculate. Remodeled, updated, spotless. The place was beautiful. My special cabin was even more impressive with a large stone fireplace and deck stretching out over the Lake. Breathtaking.

How interesting, I thought.

The difference between the front and backside of the camp. 

The truth is, we all have a backside of the camp. And I don’t just mean those days when we wear sweats and no make-up. We all have a backside in our behavior too, in our character, in our heart, where we battle the flesh and struggle.

Where, if we’re really honest, there’s a trash heap.

(And maybe even an old Lazy boy recliner.)

The deal though is that all too often we’re afraid to let anyone see the backside of the camp. The trash heap. The embarrassing part where our fallen humanity is so glaringly obvious and we’ d rather die than let someone see that broken place.

I’ve sat in discussion circles with women where everyone just shared what they were doing well. “Well, this is what I do in that situation.” In other words, we’re just going around the circle taking turns showing each other the frontside of our camp. And then we ooh and aah over how beautiful each other’s frontsides are, but we’re never feeling free because the truth is we’ve got trash heaps in our backside but we’re too afraid to let anyone see them!  I’m talking to myself too, just so you know.

This past weekend I was amazed by one thing in particular: All of our trash heaps look so much alike. Without fail, one by one, as I heard stories from different courageous women who were filling to step forward, confess sin, repent, share struggles, allow me and others to see the the backside of their camp, I was amazed that I could relate and identify to all of them because parts of their trash heaps looked just like mine.

And then I came home and yesterday morning my dear housemate and my dear husband had an awesome conversation, in essence discussing the backside of their camps, how God sets us free from fear and leads us into wholeness and healing.

It’s freeing–so freeing–to quit hiding the backside of the camp and start allowing others to walk with us as we deal with the trash heaps in our lives.

But here’s what keeps us bound: We’re embarrassed. The truth is, it’s embarrassing to let people see our trash. It’s humbling. The enemy loves to keep us bound in things that embarrassing to confess.

But here’s the thing: There’s no need to be embarassed because we all have trash heaps. We all have a backside of the camp. And by God’s grace He is making us new and slowly cleaning out the backside so that we live and walk in wholeness. And I’m not saying we should take pictures of our trash heaps and post them all over the web, but with those closest to us, we must let them walk close enough that they see the backside, and help us as we clean out the trash. 

What about your trash heap? Are you allowing those closest to you to walk through it with you? I pray we would find the courage to walk in humility and let God do business in the backside of our camp. Thanks for reading.