This post has been on the back burner in my mind for about two weeks now. I wanted to write this after the first week of DTS, but I had other priorities. Tonight, I finally feel like I have the space and time to blog (rather than rest)…plus, I have pictures!
Before the DTS started, I was a trifle nervous. Six women? Six?! Women?! What was it going to be like with six new ywamers joining our team and doing dts? Were they going to be catty? Was I going to be able to cope with the amount of people joining the team? How was co-leading going to work? There was so much potential for things to go poorly.
But they haven’t. Instead, things have been wonderful. The women who came are a diverse and lovely bunch. They’re first and foremost relators, staying up until eleven at night just sitting in the same room, talking and laughing. And that’s the other thing-the house is now full of laughter over stories told and silly things that happened (and silly things we’ve done). Not a day goes by without a new story being created as friendships are built and places are discovered. And best of all, people don’t leave the table immediately after a meal. The conversations continue until those on dinner clean-up move us on.
So far, we’ve had our orientation week, a lecture week about the Abrahamic Covenant and Mission, and now we’re in the midst of a week focused on outreach. I’ve gotten to teach a couple of times, which has been fun. In the orientation week I taught a session about hearing God’s voice and intercession and on Monday, I taught about decision fatigue.
Yesterday, we all went up to Dinas Bran, a nearby ruined castle. It’s a stiff walk up the hill to the castle, but so worth it for the views! When I was looking up information about the castle, I found a cool poem about it (or possible Caernarfon Castle) by Wordsworth.
THROUGH shattered galleries, ‘mid roofless halls,
Wandering with timid footsteps oft betrayed,
The Stranger sighs, nor scruples to upbraid
Old Time, though he, gentlest among the Thralls
Of Destiny, upon these wounds hath laid
His lenient touches, soft as light that falls,
From the wan Moon, upon the towers and walls,
Light deepening the profoundest sleep of shade.
Relic of Kings! Wreck of forgotten wars,
To winds abandoned and the prying stars,
Time ‘loves’ Thee! at his call the Seasons twine
Luxuriant wreaths around thy forehead hoar;
And, though past pomp no changes can restore,
A soothing recompence, his gift, is thine!
Also, Dinas Bran means something like “City of Crows” depending on who you ask. So there are lots of ravens flying around when you get to the top, and some cool crow/raven sculptures along the way up. (One of the photos is my friend and co-leader Sarah on the left and me on the right.) Also, my battery died and the spare I had brought along was dead too! Sad day.