I have bittersweet feelings towards camp.
Bitter part: I've always been a fairly shy person, and it takes me a while to warm up to certain situations. Once that time period is over, I usually do fine, but every year I get these little butterflies in my tummy around the end of May because I know that a summer full of personality-stretching is headed my way.
My personality does not explode with excitement at the outgoing-ness that is required for any camp-leading experience. It pretty much boils down to being able to scream your throat sore, make up creative cheers, make sure all students are involved, and pretend like you are more excited to do this than anything else in order to do your team well. It's just not me. I HATE being the center of attention.
[Insert side note: This is ironic for a few reasons. One, I'm a teacher. Two, my husband is at his best when he's got the crowd looking his way. Three, my husband is a student pastor which means in some regard or another, we are very likely to be the center of attention a lot. For the rest of our lives. Shudder.]
And besides all of this, I'm not competitive enough to care, but I am competitive enough to want to be the best. Make sense? It doesn't to me either, but it's a strange quark of mine from childhood. I only participated if I was sure that I was going to be one of the best at whatever I was doing. Needless to say, I missed out on a lot. A lot. Anyway, all of this, of course, is only for about two hours of every day, but it's just that stressful that I felt compelled to share this deepest, darkest secret with you. Now that I have that out, I can really tell you about camp and much of the sweetness that nullifies the bitterness.
First, we get on a bus, I mean six buses, with around fifty-plus, excited and ecstatic teens hoping and praying that the fact that it's the night will cause them to sleep. Please sleep.
They slept. We made it. Then we meet our teams. In this case, they are named so cleverly for a villain or a hero. As mentioned before, this is where my anxiety begins. Cheer, will you please come to me or them quickly and cleverly so that when we perform in front of the 400+ peeps, we don't look like fools? Please.
"B to the A to the T to the MAN. BATMAN." That was one part of it. Clever? Maybe. Possibly. Not likely. The most important part of this is for all to know that we may or may not have won one game (as shown in this picture after winning volleyball) out of twelve and placed twenty fourth out of twenty-four teams. The next most important part for you to know, World, is that we still had a complete blast with each other. Win, lose, or tie. Cheer, no cheer, or complete silence. It was the fun that matters most!
And now for the things that most people stop doing once they leave high school/college. For us, however, the fun continues. 25 going on 16, at least for a couple of weeks a year.
Dressing up with the bling and rockin' it with Grits.
Yes, it is what one would think, a fake tattoo on my back. Why? Everyone else was doing it.
Husband's tat. Sweet.
And in our week full of loss of age recognition, we'll possibly be caught enjoying this.
I just like this picture. Here they are, all 400 students, waiting to get into worship services.
The anxiety is lost and forgotten at the sight of this: students completely surrendered in worship to the One who is worthy of our worship. It has the ability to stop you in your tracks. And it did.
And then there's this moment. The moment where students desire at this very second in time to choose Him above everything that they have placed their name on in their life up until this point. It's this very moment when a year worth of distraction from my central focus for our life in ministry is redefined because not just one, though that would've been plenty, but eleven WCE students, and around forty more from other campuses, decide that being obedient to Him is a choice worth making. These kids deal with some crazy stuff, stuff that no kid should ever deal with, but this week, they decided that even in the midst of crazy stuff, Christ is the real deal. It was life change, and it makes everything else completely worth it.
I love these kids, but more than them, I love this man. He loves them and desires for them to know Christ no matter the cost to him--sleep, time, text messages at all hours. It's a calling, and the longer I live with him and love him, it becomes clearer just how much the Lord has equipped him for this job. I sat in the crowd one morning this week and listened to him teach these kids with a passion that has done nothing but increase from the day that I met him. I'm just so proud of him.
3 Comments:
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Monday, June 15, 2009 12:03:00 PM
I miss you and am honestly, jealous, of your camp experience and even moreso that you got to share it with the one you love. I think the hardest part of camp is coming home because you have to return to real world, the world that doesn't understand or accept the place you were just at or THE REASON you were there. But I pray the fire in your kids' hearts continues to burn brightly no matter who or what tries to put it out.Thursday, June 18, 2009 3:21:00 PMI love that The Lord uses BOTH of us to guide, challenge, and lead students to Him. I can't imagine what it would be like to do this with out you there each Sunday, camp, and at home groups. Love You!Friday, June 19, 2009 9:11:00 PMCan I tell you how much I love the pic of all the students eagar to enter worship? Praise God that He beacons us to come to Him!!
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