Freddy Francis

Today I found out that one of my campers, Fred Francis, passed away. He was in his eighties and had been coming to camp for longer than I've been alive. I don't think I've ever met a more adorable, funny, and all around wonderful old man. The stories are endless, and like all camp counselors I store up little treasures of memories I've had with each of my counselors because I never know when I won't see one of them again.
When you work with people with disabilities, you get to see some of the fragility of life, and yet, in that fragility are some of the most beautiful moments you may ever have the chance to experience. Moments that simply slide by because you can't really grasp the importance of them while you're living them. Its these moments that I've come to treasure in my heart as the times when I really lived. I can't explain it, except to say if you've ever had an experience like it, you'll know what I mean. I can't help but be touched by the people who have so shaped who I am today. Fred Francis was one of those people, though he may never have known what an impact he had on me. His life is one of many that has given me hope and joy (italian accent, glasses, singing opera, what more do you want?) and a dream that maybe some day I can give back what I have been so graciously given. So he sits now in my heart pocket, as Ellen Pew would say, to remind me of the reasons why I want to be a social worker.

greyishness that maybe isn't even grey

Have you ever wished that everything was black and white? Or wondered if maybe everything really is black and white and we just can't see it? Are ethical dilemas really there or do we just not have eyes to see things the way they really are? Or maybe we do, and thats why we have the dilemas in the first place? If everything really is black and white is that a good thing or a bad thing? And if its not then is that ok too? I'm no good at understanding most of these thought processes because I've been raised to see things as black and white, yet understand the world so much better in terms of perspectives, but want to somehow combine these two concepts to a way of black-grey-white. Not sure though...
I seem to be caught in this what I like to call "dance around in the middle of every issue" stage, which bothers me because I've also been raised to take a firm stance on something. Know something and defend it. Instead I feel as I wallow around in wishy-washy not-sureness. But at the same time, if I understand where another side is coming from, its really hard to say they're wrong. And yet, I have to think that some things in this world are just plain wrong. Like murder (not that I know many people who defend this). uh...I guess this is where discernment comes in...

needing theology?

I have a lot of thoughts recently about hell/ God's goodness/ how maybe the reason we have theology and so many different sections of the church is that we need these different interpretations of our faith, not the other way around. I don't really like saying that because it seems really liberal to me, but the more I examine my own life, the more it seems to be true. Except for I started out thinking I would find predestination to be objectively true or not, and wound up six years later realizing that maybe the reasons I believe in predestination run a little deeper than whether or not it is objectively true. I can honestly say that I hated the idea when I first heard it, and I searched and searched and searched for over a year to make some sense of something I found to be so horrible. And then once I did decide it to be true, I spent the rest of the time begging God that I be one of the elect. I know firsthand how destructive believing in predestination can be. But then when I actually experienced the concept of predestination on a practical level, I realized how beautiful it was. Maybe it was selfish of me to believe in a doctrine that says some human beings are ordained to hell because it brought comfort to me, but I think I can safely say that without believing in predestination, I might not have made it through the past two years. There were moments in which the only reason I somehow didn't cut myself were because I believed that God had control of my future, and that he would use these hard, difficult times to shape me for the better. I had to cling to this concept that God refines us by fire, that he doesn't just watch what happens and can't offer any immediate aid or help. My God had to be one that could heal me through this, bring me through and transform me into a beautiful child when all around me I saw only despair. And so, I see evidence of God working in my life through predestination, I see him entering into my suffering, and bringing me through it by allowing me to cling to a belief no matter how "right" or "wrong" it is.

So now it gets down to the tricky part. I guess I would have to say if this rings true in my own life, then the doctrines that everyone else around me believes are somehow the way in which God works in their lives. That even if they prove to be unfounded, these doctrines are a means of God's grace in the world to us. But is there a line then? Is there a point in which you cross from God's grace into a false understanding of God that negatively affects your faith? This is my point of struggle this year. If this line exists, where is it? And how do I love individuals who have crossed that line in my mind, but yet so evidently love and worship the God of the Bible? How can I reconcile all these things?

At some point I believe we reach a place where questions and doubts and an inability to grasp these concepts can't help us anymore. At some point we have to simply believe. For me, it’s nice to know that I don't have the ultimate authority in the universe, that I am subject to a God, who however you choose to define it, is good. It is this good God that we will stand before, and it is he who will finally decide how all these things work out. It doesn't make it any easier for me. Sometimes its harder, but I have also found that in surrender and obedience there is great joy. But that's a story for another day.

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.