shouts of joy

This week we cleaned the blob. It’s a long tube that serves as a catapult for the person sitting on the end when another person jumps on to the opposite end from the blob tower. Kids love it. Adults love it. Seagulls love it, too. It’s also served as a popular spot for seagulls to congregate in the early mornings, evenings, and weekends. During the week kids jump from the tower onto the blob covered in bird droppings, feathers, and fish bones. The smell is one-of-a-kind. Nobody likes to lifeguard for the blob, unless their a first time lifeguard, and after an hour they never want to guard it again.  Cleaning the blob reminded me of how I've done my job at camp this summer. Cleaning off the seagull poop because I have to, because I hate those seagulls and their smell. But it was actually kind of fun, I really hate admitting that I might have enjoyed it, but it was so different from the norm that it was the salt to my day. There's a verse I read this morning -  Cons

Three summers ago at one of our family camps I was opening the program for the Sabbath on Friday evening by explaining why the Sabbath was so important to me. After worship that night a husband and wife asked if they could talk with me and pray for me. Throughout the week we exchanged stories and they made me part of the family during meals and events. Many times they would pray for me, and after the weeks was over they sent a large package of books, a few specifically for me and others to share with staff. Since that summer I've thought about them often and wondered when I'd see them again. Yesterday afternoon as I was cleaning up the beach for dinner their family came and sat at the picnic table. They started by asking me about the summer (which seems like it just started) and then told me that their eldest daughter was planning on attending Fountain View Academy, an Adventist boarding school in Canada whose purpose is to train young people for active mission service. Later

Willem (in Willem's world), Will (super ornery), Michael (aka Mr. Cool), Dillon (taking it easy), Karson (Mr. I-know-how-it's-done), Emily (the super model and question asker), Carolina (the brown noser), Enjoli (so into it)  I like this picture of my 2nd period skin diving class. I like it because it sums up the thousand words in one shot. They've got 'tude. They are a crazy, out of control bunch of hoodlums. I repeat myself, a lot. They do the opposite of what I say, mostly. I hear my name 100 times a minute. I'm always interrupted. And the questions never stop. They're wild and crazy out of the water, curious and super excited jumping in, and sometimes nervous and scared after we start swimming. I find myself wearing their same shoes, or fins in this case, but maybe a different size. I don't want to listen to the rules either, or talk about what I think or feel, I've got questions, feel out of control, scared and nervous. Let's just jump i

Change has become something that I open my arms to with enthusiasm and optimism. When I'm prepared for it though. This summer I knew that change would happen at camp, I think that's partially why I dropped my summer plans, to come back and watch it happen. I have been observing the changes for the past few weeks, not jumping in on it, nor wrapping my arms around it, but just watching. I wan't convinced or won over until yesterday. I've been sick, sick, sick the past couple weeks and not performing at my normal peak of energy or fun. I've felt mean, grumpy, standoffish, and distant, definitely not camp-friendly. But one of the new leaders took a seat next to me yesterday and affirmed me. My uniqueness, my coolness, my work, my enthusiasm. After a long, sick period of crappy feelings, that leader saw past those things. That says a lot about them and meant a lot to me. It brought me back around and helped me make that 180 from sick to energized. The changes have

Blogging has been one of the most releasing outlets for me in the past. Now I'm here at camp where I have little time to myself and very little time to think or process and it drains me to the point where I am now fighting a miserable cold. I think a possible solution might be to start blogging again. I pull away because there's a lot of messy stuff going on and I don't like to share my mess with the world wide web, although not many people check here, but there's always that fear of being judged or rejected, especially by the people I know. To intro you into my summer at camp, I'd like to say it's been super fun and the best summer ever. But it's been hard, lonely, and rather frustrating. The theme: Grace Is Enough, isn't enough for me. I'm not sure I like grace, actually, I'm pretty sure I hate it. We hear that we need it and I know without it I'd perish on this earth, but I don't like giving grace. I can't get it if I don't giv