Camp
It's now 9 days before we move. The house is close to being packed up, but it's not done yet; there are a few more closets and piles to stuff into boxes. If I were smart, you'd think that'd be my sole agenda this week.
I'm not that smart.
This week is also our diocesan youth camp. This is a program, a ministry, which captured my heart decades ago. I got involved as a counselor when I was 15 (yes, I said counselor, not CIT. This was back when all the counselors were teens, and the only legal adults on staff were the director and the nurse!). I've been connected with it in one form or another ever since.
As I head out the door, knowing I'm coming back to a last minute packing marathon, the question is obvious: What the #@$%^ was I thinking, agreeing to be camp chaplain this week? Why am I doing this?
I guess it's because I believe.
I believe in the possibilities. I believe in the kids and the counselors and the staff. I believe in the way God meets people over sunrise swims and campfires and mosquito bites and mediocre mess hall food. I believe in the faithful music I hear in laughter and tears and whispered midnight conversations. I believe in the unreasonable, radical acceptance in Jesus' name that allows kids to be wholly themselves, in ways that happen nowhere else for some of them.
See you in a week.
I'm not that smart.
This week is also our diocesan youth camp. This is a program, a ministry, which captured my heart decades ago. I got involved as a counselor when I was 15 (yes, I said counselor, not CIT. This was back when all the counselors were teens, and the only legal adults on staff were the director and the nurse!). I've been connected with it in one form or another ever since.
As I head out the door, knowing I'm coming back to a last minute packing marathon, the question is obvious: What the #@$%^ was I thinking, agreeing to be camp chaplain this week? Why am I doing this?
I guess it's because I believe.
I believe in the possibilities. I believe in the kids and the counselors and the staff. I believe in the way God meets people over sunrise swims and campfires and mosquito bites and mediocre mess hall food. I believe in the faithful music I hear in laughter and tears and whispered midnight conversations. I believe in the unreasonable, radical acceptance in Jesus' name that allows kids to be wholly themselves, in ways that happen nowhere else for some of them.
See you in a week.
posted by Jane Ellen+ at
6:00 AM
6 Comments:
Me too. Have fun!
I believe too.
John asks what is a CIT?
I assume CIT is Counselor in Training as it is in most camps. I remember my time as a CIT in scout camp. I am not sure what was harder, that or Program Director.
you posted on my journal so i shall post back. no worries about you finding my journal, and my fear isn't so much the diocese, but more a few of the less joyous members of my own parish, who have actual dialogues about my wearing flip flops to church. so me joking around about stuff, well, you know.
anyway, it was keen to hear from you. i think we have met before. i am pretty sure you are the preist who had the husband that tried to fix our network ( and did nearly successfully ) while you met with the bishop in our guild room.
rock on. have a safe trip to montana. it's not that bad most of the time.
Welcome Home.
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