Week 5: June 28-July 4
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As I am writing this, I am sitting in the dining hall, in a chair, with my legs propped up on a windowsill, facing the front beach. It’s a beautiful day outside—probably in the 70s with clear blue skies—as opposed to every other day this week, where it was probably in the low 50s and overcast and drizzly. There’s a slight breeze outside, and I can see the ocean water moving with it. The mountains are a pale bluish gray against the greenish blue of the water. The hummingbirds are swarming around the feeder as usual. I forgot to mention how many hummingbirds are around here. I’ve seen probably fifteen or twenty at a time around one of the two feeders, and Pat, our cook, has to fill up each of them about four times a day. Last weekend I got to stand outside with the feeder in my hands while the little birds landed on my fingers and drank the sugar water.
The first Colt camp week is over. In case you forgot, Colt camp is for the 7- to 9-year-olds. To be completely honest, I wasn’t excited at all about counseling this week. I was tired of getting assigned to little kids, as it often felt more like glorified babysitting than spiritually guiding. On Monday morning, I was tired, the weather was yucky, and my heart just wasn’t feeling the joy that it should have been. And I was called out on it. And it was humbling. I was asked why I was tired—since I had essentially gotten the weekend off—and whether I had prayed about it. I realized at that moment that I hadn’t prayed about it at all. So after I finished mopping the dining hall after breakfast, I headed to my cabin for the week and prayed. I asked God to help me be joyful, that He would bless each of my girls, and that He would give me the strength, endurance, and wisdom to do His work this week.
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It’s a little later now. We just got done with our praise and prayer session for the week. The adults have now taken off their “counselor” suits and given full vent to the wild and crazy that has been building up inside of them for the past few days. It happens every weekend after the kids leave. Tomorrow the group is going to town to sight see, shop, and be in the July Fourth parade. It’s supposed to be a pretty big deal around town, so it should be a pretty good time.
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It is now Saturday evening, and we just returned from town. It was a blast. The weather was hot (80s) but absolutely gorgeous. We drove into Auke Bay/Juneau on Thursday afternoon. Half the group decided to hike up to the Mendenhall Glacier, and the other half did the tourist thing downtown. I chose the latter. We did get to see the glacier from a distance, though (and a little black bear cub wandering near a neighborhood on the way there!). There were icebergs floating in the water around it. It was probably the most Alaskan thing I’ve seen so far.
When we got into downtown Juneau, I walked around with a few other counselors and hit every souvenir shop ever. I spent a pretty decent amount of money on Alaskan gear for my family (and Ashley). The highlight of the day was probably hanging out at Heritage Coffee Company and ordering coconut/chocolate gelato and a London fog. I haven’t chilled in a coffee shop since I left home, and it was glorious. I also had the opportunity to make a bunch of phone calls, so that was refreshing as well. Ashley and I did our usual hour-ish conversation, and I talked to each of my family members for varying amounts of time. I ate at the Twisted Fish for dinner and had Alaskan lox and salmon on mini bagels. It was kind of gross.
That evening was interesting. We gathered with the rest of Juneau near the docks to watch the fireworks. It doesn’t get darker around there until 11:30 or 12, so they started around midnight. The people there are fascinating. I told a couple others on staff that this was not the Alaska I expected. Whenever I thought of this state, I always pictured snow and Eskimos. I wouldn’t expect “real” people to live here. But there are emo and goth and punk rocker kids here in Alaska, just like anywhere else. There are also the adults who walk around drunk, high, and/or scantily clad. And there are also the “normal” folk, the granola, the tourist. You will find every type of person in that city. It was neat to see the natives as well – they have very distinct features, almost like a mix of other, more familiar races. Anyway, the fireworks were good. Not the best show of all time, but nowhere near horrible either. We had fun. Being out in the “real world” makes you homesick for camp, though. I think I mentioned this last time I went to town. You get accustomed to the “bubble” of camp life – free of excessive distraction, loud noises, “worldly” people. You learn to love being immersed in an authentic and spiritual environment with people who lead that kind of life. It’s stimulating, refreshing, reviving, food for the soul. You learn that the world is none of those things. It’s good to get a taste of it, though. You find out what kind of life those kids go home to. Your heart breaks for the souls of the lost. You become all the more driven to do the work the Lord has set before you – to go forth and make disciples of all nations. It’s a beautiful and yet sweetly bitter task.
Today was the Juneau parade. Like I said, this thing is a big deal. Echo Ranch made a “wild, wild West” themed float, and we handed out candy and camp brochures to the spectators. There were so many people! People were watching from bar entrances, rooftops, balconies, sidewalks, everywhere. It was awesome hearing so many people cheer for Echo Ranch as we walked by. This place has more of a reputation than I had expected. I’m pretty sure about every kid ever got a brochure. As we walked down the streets, I prayed that God would use this opportunity to bring all kinds of new kids to camp to hear the Good News. I hope our work was not in vain. We ran into several kids who had already been to camp this summer, including a few of my girls. It was great to hear the girls yell my name, and a couple of them even ran up to give me a hug. I guess I wasn’t the worst counselor ever after all.
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And now, back to our story. I had the privilege of toting around six little girls Monday through Thursday. (One of them was named Arwen. When I asked her if her parents named her after the elf from Lord of the Rings, she said that she was given the name because she was born with pointy ears.) I also had a JC (junior counselor) in my cabin, so naturally it turned into a good cop/bad cop situation. Oh well. Emily, my JC, did a fantastic job with the girls, and I don’t think I could have survived the week without her. The girls were sweethearts, but they were a little wild sometimes. Someone made this observation: “The thing about Colt campers is that they’re alive. They’re not dead.” These kids move. They talk. They fidget. They don’t really understand the depth of the Father’s love or the magnitude of salvation, yet the faith of a child is nothing to scoff at. While I can’t remember any specific comments, a few of my girls said some very simply profound things about God. It was incredible to hear their perspective, to get a taste of the simple and endearing faith that they had in Jesus. Three of my girls were already saved, so three weren’t. One of them prayed on Wednesday night, “Dear Jesus, I want You to come into my life. Amen.” And did those angels in heaven ever rejoice.
Passion for the gospel and service was a big theme this week for the counselors. It seemed like that passion had already fizzled out, and people were turning into robots. We brought it up during our daily counselor devotions. One guy told a story about how he could have shared the gospel with a new friend he met at basketball camp when he was 12, but he didn’t. Two weeks later, he learned that his friend’s dad had shot his whole family and himself. The story really brought the urgency of sharing the Good News to the forefront. It’s nothing to be shy or embarrassed about; as Christians, we are supposed to go out and sow the seed, and the Lord is the Lord of the harvest. As if I wasn’t already, I felt like I shoved the gospel down my kids’ throats every night during devotions this week. It probably got redundant and maybe even annoying, but I hope they don’t forget it.
That was another of many lessons God taught me this week. He didn’t stop there, though. I let my guard down this week and decided to go all out for the camp songs. You see, the camp songs are all super cheesy kids tunes with motions, and they were probably created to make you feel ridiculous while singing praises. Kind of like the Bible story about David dancing before the Lord. So I gave up looking cool and just went crazy. My girls loved it, and it helped them get into the songs too. And I actually did have a blast.
Colt camp includes a carnival in the gym on the last night. All the counselors wore funny hats and were put in charge of different stations. I ran the single-holed mini golf station, which was a good time. Everyone also got lots of free popcorn and cotton candy. As far as I know, only one camper experienced her cotton candy consumption in reverse.
The girls had been excited all week about getting to ride horses on Wednesday. When we got there, though, one of the younger ones became scared to death and started crying because she thought she would fall off. After much coaxing, she finally got on the horse and was led away for the ride. When the group returned about twenty minutes later, however, she was beaming from ear to ear. She had a blast and wanted to go again – only this time she wanted to go faster than a walk. It was pretty cool to see such a little kid successfully overcome a big fear.
The worst part of Colt camp was definitely when the girls had to pack up. They got distracted every five minutes and could never get it all knocked out at once. I discovered that one girl’s mom packed her five pairs of shoes into her giant suitcase: sparkly pink flats (which, of course, she wore all week long), tennis shoes, rain boots, and two pairs of the same shoes (different colors). Nice. I can’t even count how many times I heard, ‘I can’t find ____!’ before they actually looked for it. I think we probably spent somewhere between one and two hours packing Thursday.
A five-page letter from Ashley brightened that day for me, though. I started reading it in the Trading Post while my children were running wild with their most recent purchases. I had just turned on the coffee maker to heat up the existing coffee and produce a fresh brew (free for the counselors!), so I got through most of it while the coffee brewed away. I felt like I was in a movie scene, where the main character is standing in the middle of the picture, still and silent, in the midst of the chaos and madness around him. I decided it was a good time to check on the coffee – and then I came to the realization of my terrible mistake. The pot was already mostly full when I started brewing a new one, so the new coffee had filled up the pot and then started spilling over onto the floor. Sweet. I let Emily handle the crumb chasers (another endearing term for our Colt campers) while I ran to get some towels. I guess I should start saving the letter reading for nights and weekends.
So that was the camp week. The previous Sunday was awesome, although I didn’t get to see a bear. The counselor group canoed along the cove out to Sawmill Creek, which is a beautiful creek that runs through the woods and has an incredible waterfall. When we got to the creek, we crossed a log that went over the water to the other side and then hiked up to the waterfall. When we got to the fall, I decided I wanted to see it from the other side of the creek, so I tried wading along the edge of the water (in my rain boots) to see if I could find a shallow place to cross. Bad decision. I slipped on a rock while stepping through the water, and fell in, waist deep. That water was cold! I had a minor freak out moment as I tried to catch my breath and find an actual foothold (and then slipped again), but eventually I made it out. And then I just walked through the water to the other side since I was soaked anyway. It made for a funny story, however, even though I had to pour the water out of my rain boots more than once.
In addition to counseling, I have been asked to lead worship for Maverick II camp (12- to 15-year-olds) this week, which is crazy. I like being able to provide background vocals every now and then, but I’ve never led before. I’m a little nervous, and it probably won’t get better come Monday. But, as it has been said, Echo Ranch is a place where someone becomes someone they weren’t originally because they learn to do all kinds of new things. Maybe this is one of those things. God has a funny way of working out that kind of stuff. I’m a lot more nervous about counseling, though. This will be my fourth week of counseling but my first week with “big” kids. These girls will probably have bigger issues than not being able to find their towels or needing to go to the bathroom in the middle of chapel. As deeply affected as the counselors were during the last Maverick week, I can’t imagine how this one will go. But God will move. And I have a lot of praying to do.
I think that basically wraps up the longest post ever. Thanks to Ashley, Nina, Mallory, and Bethany for the letters last week! And happy (late) birthdays to Maddie, Morgan, and Mom!
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