I’m beginning to get to be a bit homesick.
No time or energy to really write much, but facebook is making me sad. I miss everyone so so much. I miss my life. I’m loving it here, really. But it’s hard and it’s tiring, and I miss the support and the love that I get from everyone at home. My Rev, Longshanks, the Beauty… all of you! I just keep reminding myself of that John Donne poem.
It’s crunch time. I can pull through this. Three weeks left. Three weeks to move mountains.
I’m extremely tired. To the point where people cough and I want to snap at them or rip their lungs out or something. Luckily, I seem to be good at controlling these urges.
Five of my girls left today. First session ended, we packed them up, and now they’re gone. It’s strange. I went from having the fullest, or one of the fullest, bunks on Girls’ Line, to having six girls.
Good news, though. Bible #1 has passed into the hands of a worthy reader. My Diva, if you’re reading this, you know who you are, and I hope you enjoy it. Read it, and look at it from as many different angles as you can: as a story, as a religious work, as a way of life (for some people like me). I hope when you read it, you’re able to see, perhaps, why I am the way I am. Or something like that.
Eleven more. I think Jesus and I can do that.
The day after tomorrow, I leave for Cooperstown, New York with the kids for three days. Pray for us.
Arthur the Computer Lounge Mouse just ran by. I think it’s time for me to head to bed, to deal with Henry George Jones, Jr., the Mouse of G-16.
To all who read this: I love you, and I’ll be seeing you soon.
I went to Boston again yesterday and today. I am officially in love with that city.
I fell in love on the subway today. He was tall and had long dark hair, and he was carrying an old, beat up guitar case. His shirt had a hole in it, right near the very bottom hem.
Perhaps it wasn’t love. No, I don’t think it was. But it was acknowledgement of another person, a person I never knew existed, and of all the visible details about him that made him different from everyone else around me. It was an interesting feeling.
I’m very tired. I must go to sleep.
Today has been a long, long day. The only times I was out of my work space was to eat lunch and now. The stress is sometimes overwhelming, especially when there are people who are so much more experienced than you, when everyone is waiting for and counting on you to pull through.
But I’m proud of my work. I’ll see if I can post an image of it here, but I’m so proud of it.
That being said, I’m certainly learning a lot about humility, and what it means to bite my tongue when I don’t get the credit that my earthly self thinks I deserve. I feel sometimes like I’m not appreciated. My activity director and my co-advisor for the newsletter make jokes some times that my real job is to keep the bunk clean, or at least that’s how I interpret it. And I’m sort of invisible. But I’m used to that.
Things aren’t bad. I’m enjoying myself. I’m just tired and stressed. And still feeling slightly ineffectual. It’s just a slump, that’s all. Or at least that’s what I can tell myself.
Things are ok. Things are all right. Things are getting better all the time, because God is at work all the time, and his plans will come to fruit.
“The rain and snow come down from the heavens and stay on the ground to water the earth. They cause the grain to grow, producing seed for the farmer and bread for the hungry. It is the same with my word. I send it out, and it always produces fruit. It will accomplish all I want it to, and it will prosper everywhere I send it. You will live in joy and peace. The mountains and hills will burst into song, and the trees of the field will clap their hands!” -Isaiah 55:10-12
Life is good. God’s in control.
First off, to those of you who have written to me, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your encouragement and love means more than anything in the world at this point in time, and I want you to know that. I value and treasure every letter, and it makes me smile like no other every time I read over them again.
I’ll admit it, I’m getting tired. I have very little time to rest and recoup on this job. It’s a 24/7 type deal. Everyday, I’m working from 7:30 when the girls get up until 9:45 at night when the lights are supposed to go out. Usually, I don’t get to bed until past midnight, if not past 1am. I’m not complaining, I’m just simply stating that it’s tiring work. It’s exhausting, actually, and many times I wish I could just sleep until my body was so saturated with rest that I can’t help but feel refreshed. That doesn’t happen here, though. At least not often.
Because my physical self is suffering a bit, my own personal needs have moved to the forefront of my thoughts. I’m constantly desiring sleep, food, water, rest, a moment to be by myself and just sit still for a while. You all know me; I’m a very quiet and personal person. I like my privacy, and I like my alone time. Another fantasy of the real world that does not happen here. Because of all of this, I’ve let my true mission slide to the side a bit. Things are still going well, or at least they’re not moving in a negative direction. But God doesn’t call us to be lukewarm. In fact, that’s appalling to him, and I’m afraid that’s where I’m at right now.
I could put more effort into this. I won’t lie or hide it. I could pray more, I could squeeze in some time with my Bible (like right now, for instance). And I want to.
Today, Mr. Perfect (ahh, bringing out the old pseudonyms) sent me six New Testaments and six Bibles for the people here who need them. This is a challenge now. I have twelve books. One for Rosy, one for the Diva, one for Shakira (the girl who sleeps next to me looks JUST like her, I swear). Nine more. I’m terrified by this. Now I have a physical goal. Now is the time for personal conversations in which said literature may be distributed and the like. You can’t just hand them out. This is a challenge, but I also know that Jesus will make those books vanish. He will provide the opportunities to give them away, to discuss them.
Mother Teresa once said, “I know God will never give me more than I can handle, but sometimes I wish he didn’t trust me so much.” I know what that feels like, even if not on the scale that she did. It’s a challenge of promise. Twelve. Such a significant number.
Please, pray for courage and endurance as we near the half-way point. The Diva leaves in a week, as does the Slow Poke, the Long Islander, the Twin and the Epileptic. I think. Lord, open doors. Fling them wide open and let the sun shine in. Give me stories to tell them, songs to sing to them that proclaim your beauty and your love and all that is good about you. Reignite our previous conversations and let the fruit bloom on the branches here.
Jesus, I love you. Father, I adore you. So, so much. And Lord, I have a purpose here. I AM something, because I am here for you. Work in me, work through me. Tear down all of my reservations and my fears. Make me like your Son, like your first followers.
I’m afraid that I’ll get in trouble for this. And for those of you who know me, I hate breaking rules, and I hate getting into trouble. But this passage comes to mind:
Then they called them in again and commanded them not to speak or teach at all in the name of Jesus. But Peter and John replied, “Judge for yourselves whether it is right in God’s sight to obey you rather than God. For we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard.” - Acts 4:18-20
Lord, give me that boldness. Break the bonds that earthly opinion has on me. Set me free!
I don’t care. Vive la France.
I just found out today that the on-call doctor at Camp is a OB/GYN. What the heck does he know about kids’ pulled muscles and earaches? Um, pretty much nothing. But hey, he’s here just in case anyone needs to have a baby or something.
I’m tired. And SO hot. I wish my clothes came with internal AC.
I really want a falafel. With hummus. From the Mediterranian heaven that’s right down the street from my apartment. I’ll probably eat something fried for dinner. That seems to be the only option here, except for stark white iceberg lettuce that tastes like lukewarm water.
I’ve begun on a new story, about a wanderer. I don’t know who would want to read it, but it’s all right so far. I’m afraid of becoming an author consigned to the section of Barnes and Noble with the paperbacks with dragons and purple fire on the front covers.
I’m too hot to write anymore.
There is a boy here whom I am slightly interested in.
Tonight at dinner, he gave me the thumbs up.
I’m really hoping that he’s just so enamored that he feels gawky and awkward, because that would be cute.
More greetings from camp.
Yesterday, I had my first day off in two weeks. Praise Jesus, for serious. But I think I’m more tired today than ever. I’m falling asleep in the staff lounge. In fact, I wish I were sleeping on the couch right now, but I haven’t written in forever, and so here I am.
Things are going well. There is so much drama in my bunk right now, but you’ll have that with 12-year-old girls, especially when one of them is notorious for stirring up trouble.
One of my girls got the female lead in the 12’s musical. I’m so proud of her! And she’s taking it really well, not making any of the other girls feel like crap because they got a smaller part. I’m so proud of her. She’s also the one, we’ll call her Rosy, who will read My Utmost over my shoulder and ask about the verses and what they mean. Today talked about how Jesus’ way is narrow, but it leads to life. And so she interpreted it as like, doing the right thing is harder, but it’s better. Which is true, and is such a secular way of interpreting that verse, but she at least understands the concept. It’s amazing the level of understanding that the Holy Spirit imparts upon us, how powerful that really is. It’s like all of a sudden being able to understand a different language.
Rosy’s also read scripture outloud to the other girls. I don’t know what will come of this, but God gives us vision. And I have a vision for her, as does Jesus.
Lord, give me the strength to get through today. Refresh me, more than any nap or Starbucks could. You have the power, you are all glory.
