This week I have the privilege of staying with my friend Villa at her lovely home in Rome. Georgia that is-Rome,GA. Perhaps you don't know but I am officially a Georgia Peach, born in Atlanta. My heart is heavy that tomorrow is my last full day here. But Villa and I have lots of plans for Friday fun. This time with her is precious. In the midst of our laughter and stories we are missing Courtney. His presence fills the house, yet it's empty without him.
I've known two couples in my life that have exemplified the idea of "soul mates." Shannon and Keith and of course, Villa and Courtney. To have lost both Keith and Courtney to brain cancer is still sometimes unbelievable, even when staring straight into the eyes of Shannon or Villa. The grief and the sadness is intense and leaves me without words. Love and pain often go together. I pray for the memories of love to overshadow the pain.
Villa showed me a picture from her wedding album: Two-year-old me wanting to join Villa and Courtney as they leave for their honeymoon. Today this picture represents the absolute love and adoration I've had for Villa and Courtney my entire life.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Together...Finally
This week has been a hard one. And if I want to be really whinny, I'd say this season has been a bit of a bummer. But today I felt God providing me with the gift I've needed all summer - a day for all four of us to be together. No grand vacation, road trip, camping excursion, or party needed.
We began the day with a visit to Olivia and Sam's lemonade stand at Abbie's garage sale adoption fundraiser. Once we were well-hydrated we continued out to Bob's Red Mill. Breakfast at 11:30am at Bob's is wonderful. Their scratch biscuits are heavenly!
After breakfast we purchased our three 25lbs of flour some high fiber pancake mix and headed for Alan's new office in Beaverton. The girls and I hadn't seen Alan's work space since he moved in there a couple of months ago. The Nike building was ok. The best part was the abundance of white boards. So the girls had some fun. Alan, not so much.
Then it was off to purchase Brynn her first cell phone. We ended up at the Tanasbourne Town Center AT&T store. It was actually a really nice experience. The sales associate was very helpful. I felt like a giddy teenager watching Brynn get her phone. Maybe because it means she's growing up. Or maybe because now I can keep track of her and bug Brynn more than ever before.
We began the day with a visit to Olivia and Sam's lemonade stand at Abbie's garage sale adoption fundraiser. Once we were well-hydrated we continued out to Bob's Red Mill. Breakfast at 11:30am at Bob's is wonderful. Their scratch biscuits are heavenly!
After breakfast we purchased our three 25lbs of flour some high fiber pancake mix and headed for Alan's new office in Beaverton. The girls and I hadn't seen Alan's work space since he moved in there a couple of months ago. The Nike building was ok. The best part was the abundance of white boards. So the girls had some fun. Alan, not so much.
Then it was off to purchase Brynn her first cell phone. We ended up at the Tanasbourne Town Center AT&T store. It was actually a really nice experience. The sales associate was very helpful. I felt like a giddy teenager watching Brynn get her phone. Maybe because it means she's growing up. Or maybe because now I can keep track of her and bug Brynn more than ever before.
Right across the parking lot was a Target. So we got school supply shopping done quickly and with no drama. Wow-now that is something to be happy about! Then it was time to head home. Along the way we stopped at Smith Berry Barn, but I couldn't convince the clan to come u-pick some berries with me. So we popped back in the van and arrived home in time for an early evening swim. It was the first time all four of us have been in our backyard pool together. What's wrong with us? Toby even got some attention and love after the swim.
Dinner was a smorgasbord of leftovers from the fridge while we watched Tangled. Oh such a good day. I'd be remiss if I didn't add that I noticed while looking back over our day, that several of the activities included retail sales and the advantage of having a van, money to spend on eating out, purchasing school supplies, and even the luxury of buying a cell phone for a 14-year-old. We have much. I pray that I won't take that for granted (and that my children won't either). But I also pray that when my family remembers today they will simply be thankful for the togetherness.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
4000 Dead Kids
When I feel like writing in response to the message on Sunday, it's indication to me that I'm where God wants me. When I write in response to what I've seen on the Oprah show, I know it can be perceived as simply being sucked in by popular culture.
I don't watch Oprah that often. I admire her work in Africa and I think in general she tries to make this world a better place. I don't always agree with her opinions or methods. Last week I had the opportunity to see an episode in which Oprah interviewed a couple that had suffered the horrific loss of their three children ages 5, 4 and 2 in a traffic accident. I sat there stunned and entered into the pain that this couple felt upon the death of their three precious kids. The camera panned the audience and the tears were flowing from everyone's eyes. I imagined mothers and fathers nationwide viewing the show and also being moved to tears by this tragic situation. I listened to Oprah's guests speak about how devastating it was to "walk through the pain." They praised family and friends for supporting them in the midst of their grief. But they still felt very much alone. Only the afflicted mother and father knew the extent of the sorrow caused by coming home to a house drowning in silence.
Then in typical Michelle fashion my mind strayed to another thought. That morning I had read in my Compassion Advocate's magazine that UNICEF estimates that over 4000 children die everyday from water-borne diseases. 4000 DEAD KIDS. Everyday.
Now I was angry. Why was I crying for three kids when thousands die needlessly everyday? How many parents everyday watch their children die from a preventable cause? How many tears is that? How many people across the world sit and suffer as their children are snatched away by the lack of clean water? Where's the heartbreak for that America? Why don't we fix this? Why don't we really care? We don't care because these children are not at the center of our lives.
If my neighbor's children were dying because their water was shut off and the kids were drinking out of the dirty stream in the park down the road, I would gladly give them my clean water. If my neighbor's child was dying of dehydration and they could not get her to a hospital, I'd drive them in a heartbeat. If my neighbor's child had diarrhea I'd offer medicine and some pedialyte. I'd do something. So would you. But who is my neighbor?
The story of the Good Samaritan was the central theme for the lesson I taught with the Hope Lives curriculum last week and the week before. The children had a pretty good grasp on the fact that Jesus asks us to consider everyone our neighbor. We aren't supposed to walk on by. We are supposed to love our enemies (or those we consider worthless)...even if it costs us something. Do we consider those 4000+ kids per day worthless? If we include all preventable causes, the number of children dying is a lot higher. The UNICEF website says that 22,000 children die per day from preventable causes. Per day. It's really too much to take in.
We cry over three blond-haired, blue-eyed children. They capture our heart because they are brought to our attention by the Oprah show. We watch the home videos, see the family photos, and imagine that these could have been our kids. We sob and then rejoice as we learn that the grieving parents were given a miracle. Almost exactly one year after the accident, they had triplets.
On Sunday we were challenged to make a meaningful connection with a global ministry partner. Our pastor named that I am a "champion for Compassion International." I have to admit that it feels good to be acknowledged as someone who loves Compassion and what they do to help end poverty in Jesus' name. At the same time I'm convicted that I am still a part of the world's richest 10%. We are the most self-centered people on the planet. We have much and share relatively little. In the USA alone we spend billions on scrapbooking. Every moment of our lives we document, capture, and photoshop, but we really don't think about those millions of parents who have never even had the opportunity to take a picture of their child. Our priorities are out of whack and out of touch with what the majority of the world experiences.
It's not wrong to cry for three children killed in a car crash. But it is wrong to forget about the 4000 children that die from lack of clean water every day. It's wrong to disregard the feelings of those parents who have watched their children lie half-dead on the side of the road beaten up by preventable causes in Africa, Asia, The Middle East, Central America, and South America as we walk on by like a priest or a levite.
I don't watch Oprah that often. I admire her work in Africa and I think in general she tries to make this world a better place. I don't always agree with her opinions or methods. Last week I had the opportunity to see an episode in which Oprah interviewed a couple that had suffered the horrific loss of their three children ages 5, 4 and 2 in a traffic accident. I sat there stunned and entered into the pain that this couple felt upon the death of their three precious kids. The camera panned the audience and the tears were flowing from everyone's eyes. I imagined mothers and fathers nationwide viewing the show and also being moved to tears by this tragic situation. I listened to Oprah's guests speak about how devastating it was to "walk through the pain." They praised family and friends for supporting them in the midst of their grief. But they still felt very much alone. Only the afflicted mother and father knew the extent of the sorrow caused by coming home to a house drowning in silence.
Then in typical Michelle fashion my mind strayed to another thought. That morning I had read in my Compassion Advocate's magazine that UNICEF estimates that over 4000 children die everyday from water-borne diseases. 4000 DEAD KIDS. Everyday.
Now I was angry. Why was I crying for three kids when thousands die needlessly everyday? How many parents everyday watch their children die from a preventable cause? How many tears is that? How many people across the world sit and suffer as their children are snatched away by the lack of clean water? Where's the heartbreak for that America? Why don't we fix this? Why don't we really care? We don't care because these children are not at the center of our lives.
If my neighbor's children were dying because their water was shut off and the kids were drinking out of the dirty stream in the park down the road, I would gladly give them my clean water. If my neighbor's child was dying of dehydration and they could not get her to a hospital, I'd drive them in a heartbeat. If my neighbor's child had diarrhea I'd offer medicine and some pedialyte. I'd do something. So would you. But who is my neighbor?
The story of the Good Samaritan was the central theme for the lesson I taught with the Hope Lives curriculum last week and the week before. The children had a pretty good grasp on the fact that Jesus asks us to consider everyone our neighbor. We aren't supposed to walk on by. We are supposed to love our enemies (or those we consider worthless)...even if it costs us something. Do we consider those 4000+ kids per day worthless? If we include all preventable causes, the number of children dying is a lot higher. The UNICEF website says that 22,000 children die per day from preventable causes. Per day. It's really too much to take in.
We cry over three blond-haired, blue-eyed children. They capture our heart because they are brought to our attention by the Oprah show. We watch the home videos, see the family photos, and imagine that these could have been our kids. We sob and then rejoice as we learn that the grieving parents were given a miracle. Almost exactly one year after the accident, they had triplets.
On Sunday we were challenged to make a meaningful connection with a global ministry partner. Our pastor named that I am a "champion for Compassion International." I have to admit that it feels good to be acknowledged as someone who loves Compassion and what they do to help end poverty in Jesus' name. At the same time I'm convicted that I am still a part of the world's richest 10%. We are the most self-centered people on the planet. We have much and share relatively little. In the USA alone we spend billions on scrapbooking. Every moment of our lives we document, capture, and photoshop, but we really don't think about those millions of parents who have never even had the opportunity to take a picture of their child. Our priorities are out of whack and out of touch with what the majority of the world experiences.
It's not wrong to cry for three children killed in a car crash. But it is wrong to forget about the 4000 children that die from lack of clean water every day. It's wrong to disregard the feelings of those parents who have watched their children lie half-dead on the side of the road beaten up by preventable causes in Africa, Asia, The Middle East, Central America, and South America as we walk on by like a priest or a levite.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Working From Hope
God cracks me up. I was typing the title for this blog post, "working from home." But instead of home, my fingers typed "hope." Sometimes I think God knows what he's doing. Because clearly I don't. That's where I am really going with this post. What am I doing? I am home today answering emails, folding laundry, and ironing. It looks pretty serene from the outside. Inside I'm a wrestling match, a sobbing mess, and a spirit longing to bust out of this daily routine. My goals for today include making sure I spend the hours I need to at the office, finding a book or two for tomorrow's family story time pool party, and ironing. Well, yea for me...ironing done. God is giving me time and space to read, pray, and struggle. Why? Why am I being allowed the freedom study scripture, focus on poverty, reflect on my experiences overseas, watch more documentaries, write to my sponsored kids, read posts and magazines from Compassion, etc. What am I doing?
For the last few months (ok, maybe the last 5) attendance at Family Story Time has been way down. Way down. It's the one time per month where I sit with the kids, read them a story, and engage them with questions about the story from a Biblical perspective. I love doing this. Perhaps I love it but I'm not very good at it. Not many families attend. It's not a snazzy show. Parents have to stay (Sorry, no date night). Just 45 minutes of trying to be real with kids, talking to them about everyday stuff with everyday stories. Don't worry, I know they can't sit still for 45 minutes... the kids have a chance to run around the church or outside on the lawn in the summertime. Last month I even offered free popsicles - only one family came. At the end I gather them close and we pray together. The two times per year where we do have higher attendance are when we show a movie (in December - the last two years we've shown the most recent Christmas Veggie Tale flicks) and the summertime pool party. Tomorrow is the pool party. And at this point, I don't even feel like we'll have a good attendance for that. Yep, I'm a grump these days.
My role at the church also includes parenting and marriage ministries. This summer I tried to get a group together for a parenting study. It went alright for two weeks, then all the families started having sick kids. We had to cancel the next two weeks in a row. Last night only one woman out of the group could attend. What's that about God? Is it as simple as saying the evil one just doesn't want us to focus on being good parents and he'll throw whatever tools he has at us to disable us from gathering? Bad timing?
Our 3M group (Monthly Marriage Maintenance) has also taken a summer break in part due to lack of attendance. A BBQ is planned later this month. Will people come because it's a BBQ (free dinner and a pool for the kids) or because they truly want to connect with other couples and recommit to making strengthening marriage a priority in their life? Or as the grouchy gus in me suspects, we won't have much of a turn out at all.
My frustration is that I want to be a part of ministry that matters. I want to be able to share life with others that have similar priorities and passions. I want to struggle alongside kids, parents, and couples as we wrestle with how we're working from hope. And quite frankly, most of the time I don't feel like I'm really able to do that. At this point it seems like my role is to keep things afloat, not rock the boat, and certainly not to paddle excessively, make waves, or to put up the sail and let the wind take us where it will. People don't really seem to want more. They are full enough. (Insert frustrating commentary about how we're all just too stinkin' busy.)
This summer I also took on women's ministries as a part of my responsibilities. I'm working to make sure that things are lined up for Women's Bible Fellowship this fall. God has put in place an excellent steering team. My hope is that WBF will continue to be a place where women are spiritually and emotionally fed so that they can go out and make a difference in their homes, relationships, and community. My husband's one piece of advice was, "Don't change anything." Thanks honey, yep, just keep it afloat. That's my job.
But I want to work from hope. Hope that what I do matters, hope that's based on what I feel God has called me to do. Hope that is based on a heart that is connected to the Spirit. Hope that is beyond the norms and the everyday. Hope that is full of vision but also applicable to our life right here right now. Elizabeth Sherwood gave an excellent message on Hope last week at church. She shocked me with the statement, "once we get to heaven we won't need hope anymore." WE WON'T NEED HOPE. I had never really thought about living without the need for hope. Until then I have to find a way to work from hope even when I'm just working at home.
For the last few months (ok, maybe the last 5) attendance at Family Story Time has been way down. Way down. It's the one time per month where I sit with the kids, read them a story, and engage them with questions about the story from a Biblical perspective. I love doing this. Perhaps I love it but I'm not very good at it. Not many families attend. It's not a snazzy show. Parents have to stay (Sorry, no date night). Just 45 minutes of trying to be real with kids, talking to them about everyday stuff with everyday stories. Don't worry, I know they can't sit still for 45 minutes... the kids have a chance to run around the church or outside on the lawn in the summertime. Last month I even offered free popsicles - only one family came. At the end I gather them close and we pray together. The two times per year where we do have higher attendance are when we show a movie (in December - the last two years we've shown the most recent Christmas Veggie Tale flicks) and the summertime pool party. Tomorrow is the pool party. And at this point, I don't even feel like we'll have a good attendance for that. Yep, I'm a grump these days.
My role at the church also includes parenting and marriage ministries. This summer I tried to get a group together for a parenting study. It went alright for two weeks, then all the families started having sick kids. We had to cancel the next two weeks in a row. Last night only one woman out of the group could attend. What's that about God? Is it as simple as saying the evil one just doesn't want us to focus on being good parents and he'll throw whatever tools he has at us to disable us from gathering? Bad timing?
Our 3M group (Monthly Marriage Maintenance) has also taken a summer break in part due to lack of attendance. A BBQ is planned later this month. Will people come because it's a BBQ (free dinner and a pool for the kids) or because they truly want to connect with other couples and recommit to making strengthening marriage a priority in their life? Or as the grouchy gus in me suspects, we won't have much of a turn out at all.
My frustration is that I want to be a part of ministry that matters. I want to be able to share life with others that have similar priorities and passions. I want to struggle alongside kids, parents, and couples as we wrestle with how we're working from hope. And quite frankly, most of the time I don't feel like I'm really able to do that. At this point it seems like my role is to keep things afloat, not rock the boat, and certainly not to paddle excessively, make waves, or to put up the sail and let the wind take us where it will. People don't really seem to want more. They are full enough. (Insert frustrating commentary about how we're all just too stinkin' busy.)
This summer I also took on women's ministries as a part of my responsibilities. I'm working to make sure that things are lined up for Women's Bible Fellowship this fall. God has put in place an excellent steering team. My hope is that WBF will continue to be a place where women are spiritually and emotionally fed so that they can go out and make a difference in their homes, relationships, and community. My husband's one piece of advice was, "Don't change anything." Thanks honey, yep, just keep it afloat. That's my job.
But I want to work from hope. Hope that what I do matters, hope that's based on what I feel God has called me to do. Hope that is based on a heart that is connected to the Spirit. Hope that is beyond the norms and the everyday. Hope that is full of vision but also applicable to our life right here right now. Elizabeth Sherwood gave an excellent message on Hope last week at church. She shocked me with the statement, "once we get to heaven we won't need hope anymore." WE WON'T NEED HOPE. I had never really thought about living without the need for hope. Until then I have to find a way to work from hope even when I'm just working at home.
Friday, July 29, 2011
In Need of Compassionate Hope for Tomorrow
There was a lot of tension in our home today. Unfortunately it spilled over into the car ride, continued throughout the party, and found it's way home again. Sometimes it seems like it's simply impossible for four people to live harmoniously. Sometime I don't care. Today I did. Today I wished that the kids were listening and obeying, I could answer questions quickly succinctly and to the satisfaction of my family, and that my dear husband could take everything in with a much more peaceful attitude.
My deepest frustration with being frustrated with this lack of harmony is that really in the scheme of things, this is not an issue with which to be frustrated. This is just life. And our life is good. Really good. I'm incredibly blessed with a loving, vibrant, caring family. Somedays aren't all shiny and happy. That's ok. But perhaps it's human nature to always want more, to want better.
I whined to my friends at the party, "I just want to stay here and talk with you." Yep, I whined like a little girl. Like the little girl in my own family with whom I was frustrated. I wonder where she gets it?
My deepest frustration with being frustrated with this lack of harmony is that really in the scheme of things, this is not an issue with which to be frustrated. This is just life. And our life is good. Really good. I'm incredibly blessed with a loving, vibrant, caring family. Somedays aren't all shiny and happy. That's ok. But perhaps it's human nature to always want more, to want better.
I whined to my friends at the party, "I just want to stay here and talk with you." Yep, I whined like a little girl. Like the little girl in my own family with whom I was frustrated. I wonder where she gets it?
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Celebrating Life
This weekend we went to 3 birthday parties. Each one made me pause and remember the sweetness of being "in the moment." They helped me to focus on friendship, family, faith, and in all honesty: fatigue.
Birthday #1:Saturday was spent at the beach with my youngest daughter and her best friend Grace. It was Grace's 10th birthday. The ride to and from the coast was a special treat for me because Grace's mom is one of my best friends. So the drive allowed for hours of conversation catch-up. While sitting on the sand watching the kids play in the ocean with Grace's dad Jeremy as "lifeguard," I was delighted to see Grace and Jolee run time and time again into the waves, jumping and splashing, daring each other to brave the cold Pacific. They laughed and shivered through a day friendship. How I longed to be 10 again, holding hands with my BFF and facing the dangerous tide relatively unafraid, kept safe by my fearless father, and only worrying about the sand in my swimsuit.
Birthday #2: Sunday afternoon began with an Alice In Wonderland themed very "unBirthday" celebration for my favorite 4-year-old on the planet. Miss Jilian was, as always, a walking talking source of entertainment, amusement, and preciousness. I really wish I had my camera rolling for the entire time I was at the party. Because with Jilian, you never know what's going to pop out of her mouth. The sweetest moments of the party occurred when she opened her birthday cards. Most pre-schoolers would simply glance at a birthday card, discard it and dive into the gift. But not Jilian. Each card was opened with eager anticipation. She would squeal at the pictures, describe the card to us, and then "read" it. Each card she read aloud sounded something like this, "Happy Birthday Jilian. Thank you for being my friend and are at my party. Thank you for the food Amen and Jesus." When I'm around children, I feel like God is giving me a gift. Maybe Jilian was just being silly, perhaps her "reading" comes straight from her heart. But no matter what, being in her presence while she opened her presents, fed my faith.
Birthday #3: We left Jilian's party to go to Keith's. Keith is my friend that died from brain cancer late last year. His birthday is coming up in just a few days. So his widow (ugggh, that's such a sad word) and his son threw a party for friends and family to celebrate Keith's life and to have a chance to get together in his honor. There were many smiles and lots of laughter at the party. But as I spoke with Shannon, I realized how incredibly tiring this last year must have been. Actually that's not true. I have NO IDEA how tiring this last year has been. I am at a complete loss to understand her loss. It breaks my heart all over again. I stand in awe of Shannon and I stand in awe of God. The Holy Spirit has given her strength beyond measure, humor in the midst of pain, the ability to continue on with grace, to make new memories with her son, and to be a witness to the power of living life intentionally. Fatigue. It can rule you or you can choose to continue on. Shannon continues with friendship, family, and faith.
Birthday #1:Saturday was spent at the beach with my youngest daughter and her best friend Grace. It was Grace's 10th birthday. The ride to and from the coast was a special treat for me because Grace's mom is one of my best friends. So the drive allowed for hours of conversation catch-up. While sitting on the sand watching the kids play in the ocean with Grace's dad Jeremy as "lifeguard," I was delighted to see Grace and Jolee run time and time again into the waves, jumping and splashing, daring each other to brave the cold Pacific. They laughed and shivered through a day friendship. How I longed to be 10 again, holding hands with my BFF and facing the dangerous tide relatively unafraid, kept safe by my fearless father, and only worrying about the sand in my swimsuit.
Birthday #2: Sunday afternoon began with an Alice In Wonderland themed very "unBirthday" celebration for my favorite 4-year-old on the planet. Miss Jilian was, as always, a walking talking source of entertainment, amusement, and preciousness. I really wish I had my camera rolling for the entire time I was at the party. Because with Jilian, you never know what's going to pop out of her mouth. The sweetest moments of the party occurred when she opened her birthday cards. Most pre-schoolers would simply glance at a birthday card, discard it and dive into the gift. But not Jilian. Each card was opened with eager anticipation. She would squeal at the pictures, describe the card to us, and then "read" it. Each card she read aloud sounded something like this, "Happy Birthday Jilian. Thank you for being my friend and are at my party. Thank you for the food Amen and Jesus." When I'm around children, I feel like God is giving me a gift. Maybe Jilian was just being silly, perhaps her "reading" comes straight from her heart. But no matter what, being in her presence while she opened her presents, fed my faith.
Birthday #3: We left Jilian's party to go to Keith's. Keith is my friend that died from brain cancer late last year. His birthday is coming up in just a few days. So his widow (ugggh, that's such a sad word) and his son threw a party for friends and family to celebrate Keith's life and to have a chance to get together in his honor. There were many smiles and lots of laughter at the party. But as I spoke with Shannon, I realized how incredibly tiring this last year must have been. Actually that's not true. I have NO IDEA how tiring this last year has been. I am at a complete loss to understand her loss. It breaks my heart all over again. I stand in awe of Shannon and I stand in awe of God. The Holy Spirit has given her strength beyond measure, humor in the midst of pain, the ability to continue on with grace, to make new memories with her son, and to be a witness to the power of living life intentionally. Fatigue. It can rule you or you can choose to continue on. Shannon continues with friendship, family, and faith.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Girls Camp 2011
At this time last week I was doing cabin checks in the trees. Which translated means: I was directing Girls Camp for 4th-6th grade girls out at Twin Rocks Friends Camp. Lights Out is 9pm, so about 9:10pm each night the non-counseling staff makes the rounds to all the different cabins at camp and checks to be sure that the counselors and campers are all settled in for bedtime. My older daughter and I chose to check the "Cabins of the Trees" since my younger daughter was staying in a cabin called "Dogwood." I miss those nightly whispers. I'd knock softly then creak open the door and say, "Everyone ok in here? Ok, Goodnight, see you in the morning." More often that not the only sound would be a very groggy "yep, we're fine." from a sleepy counselor or sometimes after long exciting day at camp...total silence. Silence is a good thing, because Girls Camp is noisy!
Our classes for Outdoor, Crafts, and Recreation went so well. It's been joyful reading the evaluations from the campers and hearing their perceptions of the week. Girls Camp truly offers something for every girl and type of personality. I was completely blessed by the leaders of these rotations. They made camp run smoothly and beautifully for the campers. This is a gift not to be taken lightly.
We continued the new Girls Camp tradition of a Camp Out. This camp within a camp allows the girls to spend one night in a tent, use an outhouse, and cook their breakfast over a fire. The leaders were amazing! For many kids, this was the best night of camp. Next year my goal is to camp out for one night too.
We had 3 baby sheep at camp. What more can I say? How can camp not be fun when you've got live sheep to pet and cuddle? Oh they were cute! This addition to camp was quite a bit of work for our staff shepherdess-but she and her fiance are wonderful people who would do anything for the kids.
The week went well with only one ER run and a few homesick girls. The nurses were busy with lots of meds and vitamins to distribute everyday, scraped toes, knees, bee stings, and bug bites, but the only camper to throw up waited until the last night of camp. How thoughtful. Honestly, a visit to the infirmary wasn't a bad thing. These women gave so much more than pills and bandaids. They generously doled out compassion, tenderness, and a sense of security to each and every camper and staff person who came through their door.
I often say, "camp was fun." But camp is so much more than fun. Girls Camp is a place where children, youth, and adults learn about God's deep love. This year our theme was God's Promises. And as expected, Elizabeth Sherwood brought that message to life. I respect and am in awe of Elizabeth and her giftedness. I'm like a crazy groupie... but that's ok because it's truly about recognizing the Holy Spirit working through her. So really I'm a just a God Groupie.
Three other very special ladies also shine The Light brightly at Girls Camp. They are the real deal. These are the women you go to when you need answers, sound advice, wisdom, and of course a really good laugh. Miriam, Jeanne, and Deann are the dream team. Through music, storytelling, skits, and dining hall therapy sessions, these are the women who make Girls Camp a safe, hilarious, and spirit-led place.
My prayer request going into Girls Camp was for the counseling staff. This year we had an unusually young bunch of women, many of them first time counselors. I knew my job would be to help make orientation as simple and the least overwhelming as possible. The counselors job would be HUGE. They are asked to essentially become instant mothers to six, seven, and in some cases eight 9-12-year-old girls. God not only answered my prayers, but He provided an group of women that excelled at their job! Walking around camp you could feel the love (and the energy) oozing out of the counseling staff. Now my prayer is that they truly see how they started strong but finished stronger.
My prayer request going into Girls Camp was for the counseling staff. This year we had an unusually young bunch of women, many of them first time counselors. I knew my job would be to help make orientation as simple and the least overwhelming as possible. The counselors job would be HUGE. They are asked to essentially become instant mothers to six, seven, and in some cases eight 9-12-year-old girls. God not only answered my prayers, but He provided an group of women that excelled at their job! Walking around camp you could feel the love (and the energy) oozing out of the counseling staff. Now my prayer is that they truly see how they started strong but finished stronger.
This year I was blessed with Vicky Scott as assistant director. We made a good team. Vicky is giving, loving, and thoughtful. A week with her by my side provided a sense of peace and delight for me personally. Watching her come alongside others was also a wonderful thing to witness. Her depth of knowledge about camp, counseling, and how to relate to campers is second to none.
Each year we emphasize that camp is for the campers. They are the reason for 11 months of planning and preparation, weeks of 4-6 hours of sleep per night, and a whole lotta prayer. It's the dedication to these girls that not only drives me to direct but energizes me when it would be so much easier to just lay it down. It's their smiles, high-fives, hugs, wacky hairdos to dinner on Wednesday at camp, silly songs, giggles, shrieks, prayers, courage, and precious tears when they miss home that makes me realize that I am right where I belong.
A camp wrap up would not be complete without a thank you to the Twin Rocks staff. It is this team of people who surrounds me with the support and expertise that makes my job as director possible. I don't know how they do it day after day, camp after camp. But they do it with grace, love, and incredible integrity.
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