2.55 The one at the end, or the beginning...

As I post this... I just want to say thank you. Thank you to all of you that have faithfully read and encouraged over the course of two summers. Thank you to all of you that mentioned you read what I wrote and that it meant something to you. I could not have done this without that boost. I also am grateful for those that supported me financially and who kept me in your prayers. 

Without further ado... the last post of the summer. 

I was incredibly blessed to have a desire of mine satisfied by someone else at the end of camp. Our beloved Captain (as previously mentioned) arranged through his own labor and provision to provide a last supper for the staff on Friday night. Some of our number chose not to remain for a host of reasons but it was remarkably well attended. The food was simple, heartwarming, and delicious not only because of our fatigue but because of the quality and skill in its preparation. I recall many times at rainbow where we sat down to eat and said farewell (sometimes for the last time) and raised a toast to a job well done. I was blessed to do that again with this motley assortment of people before we went our separate ways.

I recall two years ago sitting in the end of the year meeting and sharing that through some insane process I had gone from this place being a place filled with strangers (none of which I had met) to a new family that I loved. Now a few years later I am filled with joy that even though I say farewell to some... This ministry is a part of my life, and as long as I am allowed to be involved I will do all I can to provide that opportunity to others.

I also cannot help but remember midway and at the end of last summer where we were so tired and frustrated that we could only put one foot in front of the other and just fight to keep moving but knowing we had to... compared to the joy of the race this year, not that last year wasn't good because it was. But that this year was better (the hope for every season eh?).

Since the crowd has dispersed and camp has once again become eerily quiet I look around and I see the ghosts and memories of a powerful place. I sit at the campfire as I write this and I can't help but remember dozens of campfire songs (or dozens of renditions of the same campfire song). I see the place where I first talked with my friend Kristy and how that inspired our annual “how are you” conversation that goes way beyond the simple answers. I see the road in front of cabins where I've deterred fights and stayed up late to make kids feel safe, and in the same place where I've seen pillow fights, and soda drinking contests... I see a line of kids singing African songs parading around camp, and I can hear the screeching of kids running for cover when the bizarre rainstorms hit. I hear the crack of rifles and the irregular chunk of a tomahawk hitting a target.

I look out over the hills and valleys and I remember hikes during training this year and last. If I look close enough I can see my friend Hunter running across the tops of the cliffs trying to get his space and spend time with the Lord he so obviously loves. I remember flag tag, grog, blop-blop, capture the flag, mission impossible, and alpha wolf. I can see three years of wranglers acting crazy at 10pm even when they got up at 5.

I remember walks with the captain and by myself, times when I was so broken I didn't know what to do. I remember pouring my soul out on this parched dirt not knowing what it would yield and being humbled by the grace and peace given through the people and places around me. I remember tears and blood shed in countless places to keep this work going and the faithfulness of so many different people.

I remember powerful men, incredible in their meekness and abundant in love, passion, and wisdom. I have witnessed them lead young boys without ever talking, and I've seen young eyes soak that in and want to be those men. I have stood among them and felt unworthy of their company, and blessed by their friendship.

I remember gracious women, never weak or breakable, but vulnerable and nurturing. I have seen mama bears rise up to protect the weakest among us and I've seen hugs and tears offered without judgment or condemnation. I have marveled from afar and am humbled that I call them friends and sisters.

I have stumbled and fallen time and time again. When a follower I've had leaders who pick me up and inspire me to greatness. When I aspire to lead I've had those around me who are gracious and kind to my mistakes and stumbling. And when I succeed I cannot help but give God the glory and those standing with me my gratitude.

Now I sit on the edge of a cliff... in a few short days I'll be moved in at school, and the next chapter begins. I know this is where I'm supposed to go, but I've never been there and know very few people there. But then again... this place I sit right now was strange and foreign three summers ago as well. Despite the speed bumps (and they are many as some of you know) It's time to stop swinging my feet here and hope the cliff breaks so I don't have to actually jump. Parachute or no... here we go!