Cornhole and Socks (Lydia's that is)

I feel as though I could write a novel a day. The little details of camp. But I don't have a notebook with me all the time,  and I definitely don't have time to write, so you get this: a mish-mash of moments and observations.

The other morning I went out on the field and the air was so humid and the sun was so hidden that the dew was still there at eleven in the morning. It made the grass silvery and all the footsteps of the morning classes left tracks like the beach or in the snow.

There is a camper who is here right now. When she smiles her eyes curve down and her mouth curves up, making the biggest, most lovable circle of joy around her face.  Her teeth take up nearly a third of the surface area of her face. The front teeth are a little too big, like many eight-year-old's are, and they are a little crooked on the sides, as her mouth tries to cope with the change from baby teeth. And like almost every child ever, there is normally a stain on her teeth from leftover chicken fingers or a ring pop from outpost.

On certain nights at the lodge between the hours of 10:30 and 11:55 you will find a group of staff on the front porch engaging in hardcore cornhole or hardcore rocking. I am in that position right now. My feet are crossed up in the chair and it's a little too small for me so the arms are digging into my thighs and the wicker seat is making marks in the side of my feet. If I think about it this is not very comfortable at all but it seems much better than having my feet on the ground.

Every time Lydia, in the chair next to me rocks, her arm catches the arm of mine and pulls it down disjointedly and I wonder if she looks over and reads what I am writing or if she is just letting me do my thing.

There is a loud arhythmic thud of the beanbags hitting the board and the encouragements and berating of the players, at others or themselves. Every minute or so Thomas will announce the score for those who care. And then he asks the Braves score from Laura who is sitting on the floor listening to the game on her phone.

Daniel is shooting against Dustin and the beanbags keep piling up around the hole.

To my left I have surrendered control of my camera to Meagan. She's filming the people around her, taking a break from talking to Rebecca on her right. The filming reminds Rebecca to tell a story about her time in China.

To my right Bailey is sitting her fleece, Grinch, pajama pants is watching the back and forth of the beanbags with a sleepy expression on her face. She is zoning in and out, much like Champ, still holding her phone.

James and Karina are on the end talking about her future plans.

At the board under the stairs Thomas is throwing against Lydia now. She's still wearing her tribal outfit of red shorts and long athletic socks.

At this point in the night its easy to get lost letting your head roll back and forth watching the beanbags fly over our heads and I think that this post is getting repetitive. I could go on writing but I need to stop.

So I'll leave you with one last observation from camp life:

The other night I lay on the pavement by field two, waiting to hand out gold coins to the campers for a game. I lay back and looked up at the sky. It was so open and perfect that it seemed like I could see the curve of the sky. The clouds looked like cotton that had been picked apart and stretched out against the bright blue. I made all the campers tell me a shape they saw before I gave them their coin.

The little moments make life. And mine is overflowing as of late. Keep looking for your own small moments and let them make your day.

"A Lone Wolf Set Loose Upon North Georgia"

Today was my day off and my biggest goal was to sleep. Done. Woke up at ten. Delightful. 

My family came to see me for a few hours and we sat in a park and talked and watched a squirrel literally do flips. Wouldn't you know I didn't have my camera. 

I came back and wandered aimlessly for a while before settling down to a kind of sad movie. Not the best three and half hours of my life. 

Then I went outside to write in a journal, which is below and the rest of the night will be in the pictures. 

Melancholy. 

It's not sadness, but it manifests itself similarly. 

The feeling that there's a blender at the bottom of your chest. Like it's creating a vacuum that churns your stomach and pulls on your heart till your insides feel like an indistinguishable mass. 

This is a symptom of sadness or of melancholy. 

Sadness is an attack, but melancholy I think is simply a complete inability to process, brought on by exhaustion.

So in an effort to combat the melancholy that makes me want to curl up in a ball and sob till I am drained of everything that could be confused, I'm redirecting with a list of things that make my heart happy.

1. The perfect asymmetric design of the white clouds, stretched out across the perfect blue of the sky. A sky so blue that the exact color has never and will never be harnessed or trapped to any medium other than reality.
2. That Laura, our photographer, just narrated her approach to hug me. "A walk, into a run...into a...jump!"
3. That I woke up and put a skirt on. I literally always wear bike shorts on under my skirts and dresses, but stil, wearing it and feeling the wind move the fabric around my knees or hearing the swish sound it makes as I walk. Something about wearing skirts makes me want to run on my tiptoes and use the words, "Flit" and "Flutter". 
4. Similarly, walking in bare feet. Something about being so solidly connected to the earth makes my hippie heart happy.
5. The phrase, "my hippie heart".
6. Finding different ways to capture and record life.
7. The silhouette of the leaves and trees against the sky.
8. Composition books and G2 pens. 

This is all I have written in the entry. For the purposes of this blog I am continuing the list for the rest of the evening. 

1. The smile on Danielle Harris's face and the way she let me borrow her car and escape the crazy melancholy of sitting by myself at camp.
2. Nearly every Ingrid Michelson, or He is We, song.
3. Overalls
4. The way my wheels turn while wandering Walmart alone. 
5. The conversations you have at random with cashiers in Walmart or Ingles.
6. Sitting by myself at the counter in Huddle House and enjoying a Western omelet and cheesy hash browns.
7. The conversations that people have with each other. (I heard a lot about eating cake from the cooks at Huddle House). 
8. The conversations that people have with me, especially after I tell them I can't eat bread. In case you were wondering the cook who expertly flipped my eggs in the pan by throwing it up in the air and catching it back "blows up" when she eats bread, but she still does. But she's starting to break the habit. She also compassionately scraped the griddle before cooking my food to get any break crumbs off. 
9. People surprising you with unexpected compassion.
10. Finding a present for someone that makes them laugh.
11. The feeling of being back with people, because going so long without interaction left a small hole in my fabric of being that was only partially filled by hugging a bunch of people and laughing way too hard with Mary Beth and Katlyn.
12. The way writing is therapy, worship, creativity and a processor at the same time.

PS - The title is what my sister said about me in a text when she asked what I did with the rest of my day.

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Grace: \ˈgrās\

unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification

I'm sitting on the cement square on the top the hill. My back is against the fiber glass rock that covers camp's well. As I sit I look down at, "The Oven".

"The Oven", by any other name is "Field Two" and it sits largely by itself, baking in the sun until 3:30 in the afternoon, when SNAG (Starting New at Golf) comes in.

Eight students and two instructors stand at the edge of the field, in the sun, and hit brightly colored, miniature, tennis balls at longs strips of tri folded velcro (the 'holes').

The moisture in the air starts to pool in the my bend of my elbow and along the back of my knee. Even though I've barely moved for twenty minutes, the sun is pulling sweat out of me like a magnet till it is running down my head and gathering around my nose.

Gross.

Then...grace comes.

A vacuum of air opens in the atmosphere around me and the particles of air rush to fill it.

A breeze.

Suddenly the sweat on my skin is helping me feel cooler. Making the breeze count for more than if it had been dry.

I want to take moments like this as reminders of grace, of the fall.

We fell away from God in the Garden. We fell away from His will and took the consequences of that. Pain, sweat, toil...sweat. But in the Garden God also saved our shame, and clothed us. One of the first acts of Grace.

Now we sweat and toil through and afternoon of golf in "the oven", and through colds, and long walks, and high temperatures, and bruised and scratched limbs, and difficult campers, and heartbreaking situations, and then, a breeze comes. Nothing but a vacuum of air being filled.

God created vacuums of air and it is Grace. We fell, we take the consequences, and God gives Grace.

The grace of a beautiful breeze.

^"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will—  to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemptionthrough his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us. With all wisdom and understanding..."  -Ephesians 1:3-8

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My Heart Will Sing, No Other Name

"You are good, You are good
When there's nothing good in me
You are love, You are love
On display for all to see
You are light, You are light
When the darkness closes in
You are hope, You are hope
You have covered all my sin

You are peace, You are peace
When my fear is crippling
You are true, You are true
Even in my wandering
You are joy, You are joy
You're the reason that I sing
You are life, You are life,
In You death has lost its sting

Oh, I'm running to Your arms,
I'm running to Your arms
The riches of Your love
Will always be enough
Nothing compares to Your embrace
Light of the world forever reign

You are more, You are more
Than my words will ever say
You are Lord, You are Lord
All creation will proclaim
You are here, You are here
In Your presence I'm made whole
You are God, You are God
Of all else I'm letting go

Oh, I'm running to Your arms
I'm running to Your arms
The riches of Your love
Will always be enough
Nothing compares to Your embrace
Light of the world forever reign

My heart will sing
no other Name
Jesus, Jesus"

Ramblings of an Arhythmic Night Owl

My day.

I woke up to my roommate and partner in crime, Mary Beth, informing me that we had somehow missed our alarms and in ten minutes I was supposed to be at the lodge helping to lead assembly. Made it on time...with time to spare. But I did loose my cellphone with the alarm on it until about four o'clock in the afternoon when Mary Beth's younger sister, also on staff managed to climb deep under my bed to unearth it. What would life be like for me without them?

Led assembly, more or less. I said the "Gooood Morning Strong Rock!!!" Then tried to lead a song that requires speaking in rhythm to the children's clapping. Every time I think about the rhythm I loose it. I continued in this for a few minutes until my other half (boy's head counselor) had mercy and took over...he had to take a minute to turn and laugh at me of course. I laughed a lot this morning.

I filled an empty spot in our Super Science class. We made cardboard cars propelled by balloons. Two boys set records as the best car in Strong Rock Super Science history. It was call the Shi-poodle.

I graded cabins. Overall a good day, 3 B's and 7 A's. The oldest boy's cabin finally broke the 90 marker. They also left a letter apologizing for a mis-led day of cabin-wrecking in an effort to achieve the lowest score...even though they even failed that.

I stayed in a cabin at rest hour to cover because one of their counselors was off for the day and the other had a doctor's appointment.  I told myself I wouldn't fall asleep...I did, but this time I got the alarm and successfully made it to outpost on time.

I ran outpost for the girls, then came up and met with Daniel about covering the afternoon festivities.

I watched a video that my brother posted on his wife's wall. It was this one. He said it was for the chorus.


I set up the screen for the movie and pinched the skin off the center of my finger. Then had to enlist Thomas to help put the screen on because I fail at getting it stretched the proper distance.

Filled in for fifth period cooking for the same two counselors who were absent in rest hour and learned how to make a buffalo chicken dip.

Went to the waterfront to do final set up for the girls beach party and discovered in was thundering pretty badly out. We pressed forward because the rain was not here, but when the conditions got worse we had to pull an audible and sent them all the cabins.

Pulled the videographer to help get the sound equipment put up and then made sure all the cabins were accounted for and that Pebblebrook was covered by our fantastic media staff in absence of either or their counselors.

Spent a ton of time on the radio trying to figure out what we were doing.

Hung out in cabins then went up to the lodge and helped get the food for the boys campout and run outpost and see them off.

Trip dropped me back off in the girls cabin area so I could tell them the newly formed plan for the evening.

Ran ahead of the cabins as they came to dinner and led an assembly with just the girls.

Set up the movie, "How to Train Your Dragon." Sat in the back with Trip.

Served ice cream halfway through then had an easy going staff meeting with the girls on the porch.


Watched the end of the movie.

Sent the girls back to their cabins with smiles on everyone's faces.

Decided with Trip to watch the second half of the movie we missed while in meeting.

Had a photo shoot with Trip, Spark, Dora and Justice. For no real reason.

Listened to the Lumineers.

Laughed an insane amount.

Downloaded Picasa to my computer so I could make photo collages.

Made a collage.

Watched Range kick herself out of the lodge.

Listened to Mary Beth cackle at "absolutely nothing" on facebook.

Posted this blog.

Went to bed.

 "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice!  Let your gentle spirit be known to all men. The Lord is near.  Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, willguard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." -Phil 4:4-7

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Teal and Ash

This weekend I got to go home. It was restorative.

I was exceedingly blessed by so many people. People that had enough faith in my assurances to want to drive and hour and a half (thank you Dustin, Tyler, and Angela for giving your cars for rides!)

I was exceedingly blessed by my family, planning and hosting and loving the twelve of us.

There was dancing, food, movie watching, just sitting and talking, tetherball tournaments, pick up basketball, coffee, thrift stores, hiking, and a ton of laughter and music.

So much fun. In one of my favorite places in the world.

On Saturday, half the group went back to home but four boys decided to brave a day in my town which included hiking Wesser Bald and jumping in creeks (not photos of that) but before that we had to handle their laundry.

We spent about half an hour sitting in the laundromat finishing it up so I started taking pictures.

There were some fun details and fun colors.

I could write more, but as far as speed...photo blog was the easiest. Enjoy.

(And the boys didn't realize I was taking pictures...Brandon just smiled at the camera cause I filmed all weekend...every weekend.)

An Hour of Learning

“Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour? But for this purpose I have come to this hour. Father glorify your name.’” -John 12: 27 - 28a

We are in that hour.
As a staff we have been attacked, we are being attacked. Fatigue is the monster of the hour. It lurked in our weekends, and sucked at our return. It has stolen our energy and made off with our strength. Its the horror of the beast that makes it worst. We grab every moment of rest, of sleep and are met with more yawning, more falling eyes, more tired muscles, screaming at us to just let them rest, let them collapse where they are, whether that be grass, gravel, or pavement, in the sun or the shade, to just be still.

What do we say? Do we ask God to restore us to our strength? 

How freaking lame.

Our strength is waning or even depleted. We can ask for it back or...

Stop thinking about our issues. Because for this purpose we have come to this hour.  We are fast approaching the point when we can take no credit for anything because we have no more ability to do anything. I love this point! The fantastic knowledge that anything good is God working through us. God working in us! Think about that. 

Herein lies the faith within the summer. 

On our dedication night we talked about God’s call to be here this summer being enough, point blank. He brought us all here with a purpose and when we get caught up in all our weariness or irritation we are actually mocking God’s purpose, so forget it all.

Take my strength God, I don't want it hindering yours. Take my life, my energy, my pride and leave only You. You are the best work. The best gift. The best thing. 

Every morning get up and acknowledge your issues, then make a decision every moment for the rest of the day to forget them, lay them aside. We are eternal souls in temporary shells. The shell does not control us, we owe it nothing. We are concerned solely with God and He has set us up perfectly to blow the socks off of this summer for Him. 

Anyone can see our failure. We can spot it in ourselves and in others so instead of dwelling on it, shift focus. The more attention we give a problem, the more power we give it, an undue power, because we serve and live in the power of God, and nothing is bigger or better or stronger than Him.

So... shift focus. How?

When we think about tired we are, focus on the fact you can walk, or that you are not deathly ill. Or, better yet, imagine that the person next to you feels even worse, whether they look it or not (some people are fantastic actors) and find a way to encourage them.

When we think about how little time we have in the grand scheme of these campers lives and decide to settle for giving them just a fun time, break the session down to minutes (about 8,000 on a one week session and 18,000 in a two week). Now think of significant, life altering moments you’ve had in our life and those you could fit into that time frame. I've had conversations or read a notes that took five minutes or less and it changed things. 

Finally, just assume (safely) that you are blessed. Assume that even the tough stuff is a magnificent alternative to something that God’s grace is saving us from. We serve a God of unending Grace. Let’s not get high on ourselves and forget how great God is, beyond even a fragment of comprehension. His ways are higher than our ways and His thoughts higher than our thoughts. How untrusting to think that He does not have a perfect plan in our success as well as our struggles. I was reminded the other day that we are "being made into glory". Its a hard fought process. 

Finally, pray. Pray and talk to God when we want to rant or complain to ourselves. Pray in your walk between classes. Pray with your kids at rest hour. Pray and thank God. The best way to abide in Grace is to live in gratitude. We do have so much (so much, so much, so much) to be thankful for. 

Read This Too! He speaks better than I could hope to. 

On the In

Mystery. 

Traditionally the word is used to describe something that no one can figure out. In the ancient Greek a mystery was some sort of rite that only initiates were admitted to. Exclusive.

I have been reading in Colossians and found that within six or seven verses at the end of chapter one and into chapter two the word “mystery” is used twice. The note on the word in my bible says, 

“Paul changes the meaning ( from it’s exclusive connotation) radically by always combining it with words such as “manifested”(Col 1:26), “made known”(Eph 1:9), “Bring to light” (Eph 3:9) and “revelation” (Rom 16:25). The Christian mystery is not secret knowledge for a few. It is a revelation of divine truths– once hidden but now openly proclaimed. 

Ephesians 1:9-12 is one that I particularly appreciate right now: 

“He made known to us the mystery of His will, according to His kind intention which He purposed in Him with a view to an administration suitable to the fullness of the times, that is , the heaven and things on the earth. In Him also we have obtained a inheritance, having been predestined according to His purpose who works all things after the counsel of His will, to the end that we who were the first to hope in Christ would be to the praise of His glory.”

For those of you just tuning in, I recently graduated college and I am currently working at a job that ends in August (camp). After that my life is a blank slate. Well, let’s say, “my life is unknown”. 

The idea of a biblical mystery is a word phrasing that is not new to me. I grew up as the daughter of a theologian, so not a lot sounds unfamiliar. However, what is always new is when I will suddenly understand or connect wording, or concepts that I have heard my entire life and just passed over. 

I always considered “the mystery” of God to be that He was God and we will never understand Him. Isaiah 55:8-9 stuff, “His thoughts are not our thoughts” and all that. Not that this is not true, but upon closer inspection it appears that Paul’s use of the word is nearly sarcastic, because it is always used to describe the revelation or destruction of a mystery. 

In the past (pre-Jesus), a life with God was more exclusive, reserved for a particular people and communicated in a particular way. Jesus came and won victory for all people, not just the Jews, and opened the door to God. More so the Holy Spirit came and lived in us. God in us. So if we take the time to pay attention and listen then we can know the will of God in our lives. 

Please go back and re-read that paragraph (ignoring what is sure the errors you are almost certain to see). 

God’s “mystery” is out of the bag, but I keep wanting to live like He’s keeping it from me. 

I have previously liked the word “mystery” because it gave God power. Something that He holds over our heads to help maintain His God-ness. But that’s not God’s mystery. The part of God we don’t get is the part that is way too much for our heads to handle. If we knew all about God and every aspect of Him, our brains would explode. The part about God we don’t understand is not a mystery, its a faith-growing, brain saving Grace. The mystery of God is gone. 

So in my life I have no plan. I have a Bachelors degree, five grand worth of school debt, no car, and a terminal job. I feel like a pretty typical college graduate. But why be typical?

I do not have much power over the list above. That is my situation currently, it will not magically go away. I will remain typical on paper. But I am not bound to think “typically”. I am not bound by the pressures of my culture, my world. I do not have to think that way because I am in on the “mystery”. The “mystery” being, there are no more mysteries. Jesus blew them away.

Psalm 139 is a chapter that i have referenced countless times on this blog, specifically verse sixteen:

“Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; and in Your book were all written the days that were ordained for me, when as yet there were not one of them.”

God wrote my story, where I’ll go, what I’ll do, who I’ll be with. And if a God who created the billions of tiny details that has kept our very existence in functioning balance for thousands of years, took the time to write me a story, why should I worry about it if I don’t know the next step? Why should I worry about paying bills, or having a job, or where I’ll live? It’s not a mystery that I need to solve, its a story, a life, that I need to live, day by day. 

So once again, I end on essentially the same note, because it is one that I will probably spend the rest of my life learning: the god of the age is not my God, and the struggle of the quintessential college graduate is not my struggle. I am not sitting on a bench anxiously reading a Sherlock Holmes story, I am Sherlock Holmes, calmly waiting within the pages for Arthur Conan Doyle to tell me where to go next.

So I sit on the concrete porch of the lodge at camp watching the flags blow in the gentle morning breeze and enjoying the way the same breeze has raised the goose bumps on arms, chilled the end of my nose, made my chest contract and my shoulders roll in. The rarity of feeling cold in the Georgia summertime. 

In the next thirty minutes this porch will be filled with over seventy precious lives singing crazy songs and getting excited to embrace their coming day, whatever it holds because they trust in camp to give them a fantastic time. 

Faith like a child.

I am surrounded by children every day, so I should have a basic idea of what it looks like.

Children have very little big picture perspective. They are worried about the present moment.  “I’m tired”, “I hurt”, “I’m hungry” etc. As adults we get frustrated with that because in our minds, if you are tired, you are tired, drink some coffee and get to bed earlier. If you hurt, “walk it off”, if you are hungry, “lunch is in twenty minutes”. But these kids get up in faith that their day at camp will be amazing, they live where they are in the moment. 

If we get past the whining and the selfish nature, we can learn. Faith like a child isn’t just the example of a blind trust that their daddy will catch them when they jump off the side of the pool or that no matter what, mommy will come back and get them from school. Its a faith that the exact moment they are in has the potential to be the most important of their life. 

Another unplanned lesson from camp. 

Fragments of Life

First step check-in on Day one.

I was going to write about a day in the life, but there is so much that happens between 6:35AM and 12:35AM, which is about my daily hours,  I will pull out some of my favorite moments from June 5.

I came into the gym with Trip, a program director, to lead stretches for Team Sports class so the teachers could meet up and get on the same page. We just went to town with the ridiculous stuff till Stealth (a Team Sports teacher) came and took over.  We jumped up and down and did the sprinkler with as much energy as I could muster, but they were a tough crowd. For some reason they seemed more interested in playing basketball than doing group yoga moves.

I went to sit on the basketball goal and sat.

While I sat, I looked out over the team sports and tumbling classes and felt the beater that sits on my diaphragm begin to spin. The beater that starts spinning and and pushes all my emotions up through my heart and through my chest into my throat and sometimes all the way to my eyes, where it comes out as water.

Rookie and I playing a game. Working on our ridiculous status.

I sat watching thirty-nine campers who were laughing and learning and getting so excited. More so, 6 college students, investing their time, their heart and energy into their lives. People have such a low standard for college students and it is often deserved, but this summer I have the privilege of working, knowing, and loving a whole mess of students who think bigger. Whether or not they came here for that purpose they have it now, because they have been given that standard and everyone one of them is fighting, and succeeding, to meet it.

Later in the afternoon I went to our 'golf' class. It has brightly colored plastic putters that they use to the equivalent of a small tennis balls. This session the class is made up of five small boys and the two male teachers. Both of these guys were placed in older cabins because they did not feel as confident working with younger boys, but they own it. They continually set them up to succeed and encouraged them to keep trying and had so much fun.

Sidebar: As I sat watching, as fun as it was, my eyelids fell down over my eyes and the next thing I knew, Spirit (a teacher) had the boys yelling, "Wake up Hugs!" (Again days go 6:35-12:35AM). Whoops.

I got to help lead assemblies full of songs about Beavers, Little Green Frogs, Cabins in the Woods, Baby Sharks and competitive praising of the Lord.

After dinner we went up to Field Two to play a game and it came out that a large amount of the campers had jumped on board with the idea that I look like Katy Perry. To the point that kids were asking if I was Katy Perry. This got Trip and I talking about ridiculous pop stars as we cleaned up, post-game. I brought up Ke$ha, GaGa, Nikki Minaj, and mentioned how a lot of people get paid for simply being ridiculous.  Trip commented that we should get in on that.

Pretty sure we're there. We get significantly less money, but if those of you who know a staff member of Strong Rock, there's a chance you wouldn't recognize these normally self-respecting college students when they are in the midst of summer. Ridiculous is what we do.

I am so blessed and proud to be a part of this camp and this group of people.

I will end this evening by locking up the lodge and turning out the lights and walking down to my cabin. The moon will be shining insanely bright over my head, highlighting the passing clouds with silver. In the woods a whippoorwill will be singing and down by the lake there will be a ensemble of bullfrogs and crickets lulling me to sleep.

This is a fraction of a fantastic day at a fantastic camp with a fantastic group of people under the servitude of a fantastic God.