What an Honor

This week, I had the honor of attending International Burn Camp, hosted by the International Association of Fire Fighters. This is a burn survivor leadership camp that sends one camper and one mentor to Washington DC for a week of touring, adventures, leadership building, and community building.

Every time I’m surrounded by this community, I am reminded of its power—but this week felt different. This was the icing on the cake, the dream fulfilled that my younger self never stopped reaching for.

As a child, I longed for this opportunity. Year after year, I watched it pass me by, and each time it left me feeling unseen and unworthy. I carried those rejections quietly, but they planted a seed of doubt deep inside me. So when Bridget spoke my name this year—when she told me I was the one—I broke down. I cried. I screamed. It felt so surreal to me. That moment, it felt like God Himself was showing me that no waiting season is wasted, and no dream is too far gone. A piece of my story had come full circle.

I have decided that this next season is for leadership growth and discovering what I am called to go toward. That is why I am taking a leadership call with my church, why I said yes so quickly to this, and why I am desiring to go deeper with who I am!

Walking into camp as a representative of Miracle Burn Camp of Iowa was more than an honor—it was a responsibility. That camp has shaped my heart, taught me resilience, and shown me what true community looks like. Every word I spoke, every action I took, I carried with me the five values we live by, and I wanted to reflect the same hospitality and hope that had been poured into me.

Now, as the weekend comes close, my heart feels both heavy and light. Heavy because moments like these are hard to let go of, but light because of all that I am bringing home with me. The leadership I’ve grown into, the friendships I’ve built, and the connections that will last far beyond these days are gifts I will never take for granted.

International Burn Camp reminded me that scars are not the end of our story—they are the beginning of a new one. And this week, I got to step into mine in a way my seven-year-old self never could have imagined.