I feel like I'm being pulled in a million directions right now, but none of those directions are where I'm supposed to be. As the days grow closer to when I will begin a new school, a new year, a new major, new friends, new life, I can't help but desire the old, the comfortable, the mundane of the past three years again. I want that connectedness, the feeling that I was part of something bigger and greater than myself. Maybe thats my problem. I don't know. All I do know is that I feel for the first time since realizing that Im not going to be at SPU and on group, a deep sense of loss, of wondering how I will grow and change on my own, without those familiar experiences shaping me. A new world of possibilities has opened up and I suppose I should be excited for the endlessness of them, but right now I just want that comfortable familiarity of the Teacup on a rainy afternoon in October. I want to set up light trees and eat subway three times a week with beautiful people that I love dearly.

I know we don't always get to see the full picture and so I'm trying to embrace the little piece I have now or maybe cling to it is a better word. I'm trying to be patient until the day I get to see clearly what has been so muddled now, but its hard. And so I have days like today where it takes all of my willpower just to be content...

Just a little glimpse of how much plaid love there is at camp and how much love there is in general at good old Camp Harkness!

bite-sized pieces

I just got home from camp this morning after waking up at 3:30am eastern time to catch my 6am flight. I'm pretty wiped out and haven't had much energy for anything other than sleeping and picture organzing, which is quite a task since I have over 2000 pictures.
Even though I go to camp year after year capturing it in images and video clips is nearly impossible to do. I try to bring as much of it back with me so that in those long winter months when the sun feels like its never out and the chaos of camp feels far away, I can still relive the moments I've experienced with dear friends.

But no matter how hard I try, those videos don't capture the soul of camp; its like C.S. Lewis wrote about his experiences of joy: whenever you search for it, its always a step ahead, eluding you with hopes of it being just around the next bend. Camp is like that. If you try to conjure up emotions that you once had because you're afraid of loosing them, you end up missing out on the actual moments and experiences in front of you.

Because thats what camp is: a series of profound life-altering moments. Its also why camp is so exhausting because no matter what is going on around you, there's bound to be something profound happening in the most mundane of tasks. But if you actually try to discover it directly, you end up missing out on both the moment and the discovery. You have to allow each experience to seep into your heart and mind and soul and let it stew there for a few days to years before you begin to understand the significance of brushing someone's teeth, pouring them a glass of juice, cutting up pancakes into bite-sized pieces, tucking the blankets in around them at night. Even then I still find myself wondering at the privilege of being able to experience so much in such short bursts of time. How can I ever fully utilize the tremendous gift I've been given in working at Camp Harkness, how can I ever fully explain the lessons I've learned? Are there any other people who understand, and can I ever help anyone to understand who doesn't?
I want so badly to live with camp in my heart: its images and moments and memories a place where God has spoken so clearly and yet so indirectly that I spend the rest of my life discovering how each of these gifts has shaped me into who I am and who I become.

perseverance

I’m clinging to the promise, the reward of my last day, the sure foundation of my hope and the source of life within me. I am drawing closer each day to that great day when I will at last stand face to face with Jesus. May I live each moment in light of the glory of your face, each grace-filled hour as a fraction of the beauty I will see there, and each difficult, lonely day as the closest to hell I will ever be. Praise be to you Lord Jesus Christ for keeping me in your hand, for showing me more grace and mercy and justice and love than I could ever have imagined. May my life this week and always be a testament to your righteousness and your overwhelming compassion.

what does it really mean to see someone as an image-bearer of God? How can I fully comprehend the imago dei when understanding the Creator of that image is beyond words?

What does it mean to see myself as an image-bearer of God? How do I see myself for who I really am? The good and the bad?

Camp has made me ask this question even more. I wrote a reflection for group about the image of God, but what words and experiences have I had that really capture this idea? Working with people with disabilities has definitely changed how I think about imago dei, but I still feel so uneducated, unable to express or comprehend the beauty and majesty of God found in each human being.

What does this even mean? What does it mean that we each bear a unique aspect of God's image?

The end of an era

I've reached the end of my time at SPU and I think this picture sums it up. Family. Of all my experiences here, group staff has had the most lasting impression on my life and I hope that I will have the privilege of seeing these individuals continue to impact me throughout my life. Here's to the end of a wonderful story and the start of another!

I'm sitting here like I usually do at the close of another school year, trying to figure out what exactly each moment in this place has added up to. A good experience, a bad one, neither? What have I really learned? Who have I become? Where am I going? All these questions and more are flooding my brain, and yet I don't have the answers to most of them. I'm too close to this place to really understand what it all means, and honestly, some things will always be a mystery no matter how hard I try to peel back the layers.
Its hard to try and figure out how these three years at SPU have changed me, and yet in one sense I see so many lessons learned, friendships built, dreams realized and others taken away. I've had moments of extreme sorrow and moments when JOY filled my heart against all odds. And in the background beauty has always been there. The beauty of people, hurts, deaths, peace, patience, and hope. The beauty of Christ healing my heart of so much pain, and seeing him dwell richly in others.
Honestly, I have a lot of friends who don't understand why I love spu when I was rejected twice from their nursing program, but each of those rejections was a needed circumstance, a good I didn't want, but wouldn't trade for the world. I have been shaped and fashioned by two things at SPU: relationships and rejections. I wouldn't give any of those experiences away, no matter how painful they were. I would not be who I am today or going where I am now if not for those people who have come alongside me, and for the circumstances that were beyond my control.
So as I sit here reflecting on the past three years, I feel more than prepared to go, to find a new place of growth and to live in the grace, peace, and joy that Christ so graciously provides.