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Writer's pictureHannah Roberts

Here I Am, Send Me


But the emptiness, the meaninglessness, and the ugliness can only be seen, I think,

when one has glimpsed the fullness, the meaning, and the beauty.

It is when heaven and hell have both been glimpsed that going back is impossible.


—Sheldon Vanuken, A Severe Mercy


"YWAM is not what I expected at all," said Macy as we sat chatting over coffee in Cafe Salem.


My close friend Macy, whom I have known for two years from our shared classes, small group, and studying abroad in the U.K., flew to the West Coast for fall break to visit me at the YWAM Salem base in Oregon.


The weekend before Macy arrived, I spent my Friday night crying out to God for friendship. It wasn't that I didn't have any friends; I had plenty. It just struck me so deeply that nobody in my DTS or on the YWAM campus truly knew me yet. Starting over in a new place can be brutal, and I haven't been in a season like this since freshmen year of college. I was craving those deeper, intentional friendships, and after three weeks, I still wasn't sure where I would find them.


It felt so strange introducing my college friend to my new community in the Pacific Northwest. However, I was becoming increasingly aware of how naturally I fit into this once-strange culture as I showed Macy the cafeteria and the communications office where I work twice a week. I could hear the enthusiasm in my voice as I described to her all the lectures and discussions we share in class. I sensed the joy radiating from my face as I talked about all the ways I've been challenged and transformed by the Lord in just under a month. How strange it was, sharing my world with someone who knew me in a totally different environment.


I was extremely skeptical of YWAM when I began my research a little over a year ago. The first person I spoke with about her experience was a former high school teacher's daughter, and she shared in faith and vulnerability that she went through severe spiritual manipulation and abuse while serving on a YWAM base in Europe.


This girl's story is, unfortunately, not an anomaly. The issue with YWAM is that it is a decentralized nonprofit, meaning each base operates out of its own leadership, independent of the influence of any other base. Most of the time, this is a really good thing. But sometimes, it is not.


I did not make my decision to pursue a Discipleship Training School with YWAM lightly. It was a well-researched choice, but more than that, it was a calling. I chose to take a chance on this ministry, knowing the risks associated with the horror stories. At the same time, though, in my plight to abandon institutions and systems, the Lord reminded me of the humanity of an organization like YWAM. Any institution risks failing their members because institutions are led by flawed human beings, and truly, God is bigger than the mistakes of man. My Father can still work all things for good because of His almighty hand guiding the lives of His children.


All of this, I believe, is what my friend Macy saw in my eyes when she visited me at the Salem YWAM base this week.


 

So much of my journey with YWAM thus far has been one big trust fall exercise.


In the weeks leading up to my departure date, friends and family eagerly asked me questions about what I'd be doing in Oregon when I arrived, what my daily schedule would look like, how I would spend my weekends, how many students would be in my school, where I would be going on outreach...and I could only answer about 15% of them.


I felt kind of insecure about my severe lack of knowledge when it came to YWAM. People probably think I'm so unprepared, I thought. But there was something so pure, so beautiful, about the unknown. I was eager to find out where I'd be going on outreach but content to wait as long as necessary. I wanted to know what my living arrangements would look like and where the other students would be from, but those were secondary to the real adventure—I was walking with Jesus!


It didn't matter where I was going; it just mattered that I was going with Him. And I knew that His love would compensate for any unanswered questions.


On Friday afternoon of this week, we had the opportunity to ride the Giant Swing, which is part of the Salem Ropes course that operates out of the YWAM Salem base. Our DTS has been participating with Salem Ropes for the past couple of weeks as we work on team-builiding techniques, and the Giant Swing was the grand finale.



As you see from this photo, the challenge begins with a climb up to the top of the tower, during which the climber is belayed by four teammates. If you are the one climbing, you ask the team beforehand, "Can I trust you?" to which they reply (hopefully), "Yes!"


I began ascending the tower, refusing the look down, my legs shaking like a toddler's. It's important to note here that I do not enjoy heights. In elementary school, at Girl Scout camp, I was the only girl in my troop who couldn't make it up the rock climbing wall. And yet, somehow I found myself climbing the tower as the second participant for my team. I know for a fact that if I had chosen to look down at any point during that climb, I wouldn't have made it up the tower.


(I won't lie, the thought of being belayed down just before I reached the top crossed my mind.)


I am always struck by how easy it is for me to rationalize quitting something just as I've almost accomplished it. And I don't think I'm alone in that mindset. It's as though when the destination is in sight, I so often try to convince myself to turn away because it's easier to go back the way I came than face the unknown.


But I persevered. When I took the last step up onto the platform, my friend Hannah extended her hand and unclipped me from the belay, swiftly clipping me to tower. "Enjoy the view!" she beamed. I exhaled, drinking in the sight around me. I was literally in the trees. The sunlight glinted through the green and yellow foliage, illuminating the forest in breathtaking magnificence.



I never would've beheld that spectacular view if I didn't finish what I started, pressing forward despite the fear. There was such a blessing waiting for me on the other side that the Father was so eager to show me.


The bubble of serenity promptly burst as I watched my friend Lucas, his harness attached to the swing, leap off the platform blindfolded. My stomach lurched as I watched him free fall, his screams filled with anxiety. Then, those screams turned to joyous thrill as the swing caught him, thrusting his body back and forth in tireless glee.


I've made a horrible mistake, I thought, regretting everything. It didn't matter that I'd just conquered one fear; there was another one around the corner. I inched closer to the edge of the tower deck as Hannah clipped me into the swing. I sat down on the edge, my legs swinging high above the fallen leaves and dying grass below.


And before I barely had a moment to register my position, I felt myself pulled forward by gravity.



I was falling down, down, down, until I felt myself steadily suspended in the air. I swayed forward and backward, quickly at first from momentum, and then slowly. My legs were shaking frantically from adrenaline, even after I touched the ground.


But I did it. And I was surprised at how I displayed little-to-no hesitation in leaping from a great height, into the terrifying unknown.


I knew that if I waited until I felt ready to jump, I wouldn't jump.


We like to display bravado in the face of adversity and unanswered questions, but it is a rare thing to actually walk through a thing instead of walking around it. It takes a great deal of effort—heart, mind, body—to tackle a problem head-on. It's far easier to avoid obstacles rather than expending all your energy fighting back. It is sound to pick your battles, but I think we've grown too comfortable not drawing our weapons at all.


As I enter into this new season of life in Oregon and abroad I want to be someone who is willing to walk through the hard things—the messy, the uncomfortable, the awkward, the painful—not around them.


The only way to healing is through.


 

Thanks for reading, friends! I'm hoping to publish updates more often, but I also know myself too well. But stay tuned anyway!


Your friend,


Hannah


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1 Comment


Jane Roberts Phillips
Jane Roberts Phillips
Oct 30, 2022

Hannah, you are not only beautiful but also brave! Thank you for sharing your experiences! Enjoy!

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