We are home from Children's Camp, and
In the good way.
Two who are ministers' daughters.
Two from foster families.
A handful who are at the church every time the doors are open.
One with an alcoholic parent.
One who has been to "church" exactly twice- this week of camp, and the same week of camp last year.
A handful who live with grandparents.
Four who did not bring a Bible- two who forgot, and two who did not own one. They do now.
One who said she did not want to go home, because "we all love each other here".
We snow coned.
We Alpine Towered and ziplined.
We Big Show-ed.
We sticky bunned and Ladybug headbanded (see hairstyle below).
We Taco Tuesdayed.
We counted off. A zillion times.
We Lunch Crunched.
We sang. We danced. We laughed. We complained about the heat. We begged for golf cart rides.
Speaking with S. She met Jesus this week. A quiet, intellectual, girl with no church background whatsoever who said she felt God very clearly communicating with her and inviting her into relationship. What a special, beautiful girl.
Crying with Y. The last night one of my inner-city girls said I needed to go in the bathroom to help Y because she was "on the floor". Alarmed, I headed in there. Sure enough, Y is weeping, sobbing on the bathroom floor. She's yelling "why, why did she have to die" and crying so hard she can barely breathe. She lost an aunt a week ago. I sat on that bathroom floor with her (with an adult buddy standing at the door- because of our 987,792,983 hours of child protection training, we are all on high alert against 1-on-1), no good words, just holding her hand, for a long while.
One part that is always special-
Spending time with the other counselors. Every summer I am re-amazed at how much I love, admire, and enjoy these people.