3.01 A request for support.

Dear Friends,

This year I have the incredible opportunity to return to Haven on the Rock for another summer of ministry.  This will be my fourth year out there and I’m quite excited to go back.  

That having been said, I’m only able to return to camp each year because of those who generously support me financially, prayerfully, and otherwise. And this year is no exception.

How can you help you might ask? Honestly, the most tangible way is financially. At Haven we want anyone to be able to come to camp, and to keep costs low the staff work for very little. Because of this and returning to school this past fall, I’m at a point where my continued ability to work at camp is dependent on raising support.

This year my financial needs will be $2500 in support. This will cover the costs of the summer and help with necessary expenses such as food, gas, and clothing. (No shiny new Ipad, don’t worry) and I’d be honored if you’d partner with me in this ministry.

If you are unable to give financially I also need your prayers and encouragement. To help you with that you can follow my (nearly) daily updates at nquadrant.blogspot.com. (You can also read the accounts of the last two summers there if you’re so inclined) It is a great way to live the daily highs and lows of a summer at camp. I always appreciate hearing that people enjoy my writing and an encouraging comment goes a long way. It is also a great way to stay current on specific ways to pray for me, and camp in general and without your prayers I would not be able to do what I do.

Donations can be sent via the following methods:

Mail a check to:                                   Donate Online:

Haven on the Rock 560 Rimrock Road Ft. Laramie, WY 82212 Write: "Nick Oegema support" in the memo line.

OR

Browse to Havenontherock.org Click on the “donate” tab. Login or create an account (a quick process) Select Summer Staff as the type of donation Enter “Nick Oegema” as the staff member Enter your method of payment and submit!

Blessings my Friends!

-Nick Oegema

3.0 Three years?! Let it begin again!

Yep you read that right! 3.1! The third chronicle has begun! While I won't physically be at camp until tomorrow I was doing a great deal of last minute prep today and thus it seemed appropriate to begin my annual recording now rather than tomorrow.

While this will actually my fourth summer in Wyoming, it is the 3rd  one that I've committed to keeping a record of. The first year was lost in the sands of memory and to be fair I was spiritually a walking-wounded that first year and thus it's probably for the best that I didn't share the inner monologue that year.

In any case, here begins the blog MKIII. It is highly likely that I'll be updating nearly daily (or as close as I can get). Judging from years past you can anticipate 4-7 posts a week. It should be an interesting journey as I'm always a little different person as I come into the season. This year is no different. I never know what the summer holds or what I'm supposed to learn this year...

Year zero (the lost year) I'd summarize it in the following: Hope Realized. I was surprised by the incredible richness of finding a new camp family (which is not to say anything bad about the one I grew up with) but I figured I'd aged past the opportunity to be involved in a camp full-time again. I was welcomed even though I was a mess... Physically I was VERY overweight (to be fair that isn't entirely untrue now.. but to a much lesser degree), pale as a ghost from working overnights, and spiritually I was still shaky from a dark season just prior. I didn't dare to hope that it would be as good as I remembered camp being, but I found healing and renewal and made many friends whom I still count among my closest even these years later.

The first year (the ones that are just labeled with days not year numbers in the archive) my best recollection (I could go back and read the archive I suppose...) would be Joy. I rediscovered a passion for camp ministry and realized the shadow I was the year before. Instead of being sad about the past I pressed forward glorying in restored strength and I look at the things I accomplished that year with a little jealousy because it came so easy, and at the end I was ready to collapse but I still had a huge grin because I felt so alive! I didn't even need a nap during the day until the last few weeks of camp!

Last year is the clearest in my memory. The theme in my mind was Faithfulness. I had recently lost my father and once again was spiritually a walking-wounded. But I had a host of new responsibilities and carried more on my shoulders than I ever had. It wore on me in powerful ways and always dogging my steps was a undeniable fatigue and a temptation to just give up. I'd like to say that I fought it off every time but in reality it'd be a gracious interpretation to say that I was just one step ahead all summer. For survival I was forced to put one foot in front of the other, and I knew that if I stumbled... it'd get ugly quick. Thankfully I was given the energy I needed when I needed it and despite some of the most difficult situations we've ever faced at this camp (at least in the horse program) we made it.

This year? Who knows... I've been at Grace University in Omaha, Nebraska for the last year scraping together the rest of my Bachelors degree (stay in school kids, it's easier the first time). I've grown and been seasoned in ways I didn't expect... and it seems that all of the odd and bizarre things I've learned in my "random" journey to this point has been useful in one form or another.

Combine that with the fact that for the first time in Wyoming I won't be working as a wrangler, nor will I be the head of the team that I will be working with. In an exciting turn of events I'll be the rookie at the rappelling wall! (not to be confused with repelling; that takes a bit more bug spray and far less carabiners)
To be honest I'm not even sure if I'll have any official leadership role at all this year. Except for the week at the end of June that I'm directing I'm just one of the crew.

To be fair all of that is based entirely on the few emails I've received and largely by my own failure to multitask well while in school I'm quite out of the loop this year. You might even say that if the loop were to explode for some odd reason... I might not hear the sound for a few days, if ever. Quite the contrast to this time last year.

Anyway, The long and short of it is... the year is beginning! I'm finalizing my support letter (which should have been finished and sent months ago) tonight, and will try to stuff envelopes tonight too. But I'll be looking for addresses to send em to! If you want one (and many of you are getting them already) I'd love it if you'd send me a message on facebook, text, email, or comment here and I'll send you a hardcopy. Otherwise if you're all digital It'll be posted here in the next 24 hours.

Whomever you are reading this... I'm glad you're here. I hope you continue to join me for the no-doubt whirlwind ride ahead. At very least it should be somewhat entertaining!

-Nick

Sitting in SLC airport and thinking about some major blessings.

About 17 hours ago I woke up to a horrific truth. My insides were quite determined to make themselves my outsides. This continued for many hours and to spare you the gory details I didn't sleep much at all. My gracious host n hostess (my big bro and his wonderful wife) discovered this horrific fact in the early morning. From then on they became even more gracious, supplying me with Gatorade, Tylenol, Pepto-Bismol, and so on and so forth. It's quite nice when you're all messed up to have sympathetic people around to make you feel less guilty about being miserable. 

In fact we were all concerned about my ability to travel today as scheduled... to the point that I was offered the ability to stay longer, and even nudged that direction (before I fully recovered just in time). I couldn't help but remember a similar situation a few years back when I was spending the weekend at some dear friends house in Casper, WY. Unfortunately their regularly scheduled weekend guest also became ill, for the better part of a week... this didn't faze them in the slightest and despite my cave-dweller recovery period I was well taken care of. And when I finally left I genuinely felt like they were sad to see me go. 

Having been through a similar situation twice now, I can't begin to express how blessed I am. Both in the friends and the family that I get to orbit. As I sit here waiting for my layover to end, watching episodes of Top Gear on my phone, I am content. (thanks to wendys and a rapid recovery my belly is full too) The road ahead just gets more and more filled with things, but at the same time I'm less frightened and more eager than I've been in a long time. 

-Nick

On Rest and Adventure, and the elusive concept of normal.

I haven't written in a month... and what a month it has been! (aren't they all?) As is typical the last month went by in what now seems like an eye-blink. But somewhere in that instant was packed weeks of projects and final exams, new responsibilities, successes, and failures. I know I should post more when I forget all of the things that I've done since the last post... but alas that's difficult to do and no one wants me to post another apology about that... so further up and further in!

Finals went well albeit hectically and it was with no small amount of melancholy that I bid farewell to a hall full of crazy, loud-at-the-oddest-hours, friendly, eccentric men. It was a good year and I learned a lot about myself and how I've changed since I was last in that environment. It was a great year and in many ways Omaha is as much a home as anywhere else because of those guys. I can't wait to get back and do it again in the fall.

The day after the semester closed down I zipped off to the (not) cool and breezy place known as Phoenix Arizona to spend some time with my Brother, Sister-in-law, and two nephews. I also had the opportunity to go to the Grand Canyon with one of the guys from school, and to hike a lava cave outside of Flagstaff on Monday. It was an incredible study in contrasts with the sheer scale and dusty majesty of the Grand Canyon set against the cold and smooth darkness of the lava tunnel. Well worth the sunburn.

This week of vacation has been anything but normal, but it has also been the most restful and recuperative time I've had in months. I've been outside of my normal by a fair bit, both in the big ticket adventures (see above) and in the ones that I hope I remember for a very long time (such as running around the house with my nephew). I've slept a great deal, been blessed by amazing food, and am honestly humbled by the experience of being welcomed into an already busy home and made to feel like I belong here.

I can look back and see a year of faithfulness. Where the call to Omaha has led me through some incredible things. When I set out from Rapid having never been to Grace, I remember saying that if all I had was a few months that I was supposed to spend it in Omaha, and looking I don't regret a minute of it. I feel the same certainty for next year and who knows how long any of us have? I know this is a place and a ministry field worth being involved in, and until I'm called away it's where I'll be.

My heart is full, and despite my head being borderline (or more) frantic with camp just around the corner and far too many things not going as anticipated with planning. I can rest on this fact, that whatever the next wild-and-crazy year holds (I have a few guesses but I don't really know) It'll be a crazy ride and that all the eccentric bunny trails I took to get to this point will only be helpful as I move forward.

-Nick
P.S. camp season is coming soon, and with it return the daily updates for the third year!

Proof that I'm not a morning person

Some days my only goal for the evening is to get to sleep in a timely manner, thus making the early morning looming on the horizon slightly less brutal. Inevitably I'm always up later than I should be on those nights and as tonight was a similar experience I have decided not to use such a predictable and repeated problem as an excuse not to write.

Yesterday I “survived” a compound deadline and got a surprising amount of homework done, so to celebrate I did next to no homework today. Makes sense in the crazy logic of my own head at least... tomorrow I'm off to practicum hours in the morning and the spring leadership retreat in the afternoon, another step toward taking on my eventual responsibilities as a Resident Director here at school. It should be a fairly low-impact kind of day but is also an exciting milestone. I'm sure I'll talk about this lots as the fall rolls around... suffice it to say that some small (or not-so-small) part of me is expecting that good fortune to just vanish into thin air.

If I'm OK with God taking it away (which I am) I should also be OK with the blessing that it looks to be. I've heard that the most difficult times to live out your faith are when things are hard, or when they're really good. After all the apostle Paul said that he learned the secret of being content both in plenty and in want... This conflicts with some old self-deprecating habits and a history of pessimism. While I'm improving and am miles ahead of where I used to be, this is still an internal struggle.

Hmm... what else to talk about tonight... I'm intentionally writing these posts on my laptop while it isn't connected to the internet so that I don't just inundate my posts with links and media clips, not a habit I think I'll do for long but in this small way it has proved productive. However I am still using Spotify to play some music in the background. I mean, why not take advantage of the trappings of “civilization” when they're helpful. Tonight the soundtrack is some old acapella albums by Glad. I haven't decided if I like them because they remind me of good times in high school, or if they are actually good stuff. I may never know...

And on that note I should probably attempt to get some sleep as 6 AM is far too soon. On the off chance that anyone actually reads this... I hope you sleep well as well.

It doesn't have to make sense... or dollars.

Recently it was brought to my attention that I haven't posted in quite some time, and that the particular timing/content of my last post was somewhat worrisome. Having re-read my last few posts I would agree, and to be honest I have actually missed this venue and process of thought. Not enough to actually remind me to write... because I often remain a slave to 'inspiration' instead of just writing and seeing what comes out of my brain and through my fingers. Lucky for you I've decided to scamper down that rabbit hole tonight and see what comes out regardless.

But which tunnel to follow?

Perhaps I should paint in broad strokes where I am right now. I could describe the incredible growth I've been through the last short months, how I've made more friends than I thought myself capable and how life far outshines what I could have ever imagined coming back to college would be like.

I could look forward to the future and talk about opportunities both terrifying and exciting depending on the moment I'm considering them.

I could talk about the fact that even though I miss the presence of those I've lost... that they feel closer than they have since those mournful days. That I can finally look at what I've been able to accomplish here and accept that they would be proud of me.

I could write about silliness and how my brain spits out the most bizarre and shockingly horrific things when I run a fever, or that I've got a legion of friends who still put up with me after they were forced to tolerate me without most of my higher brain functions...

Instead I think I'll just ramble a bit and see how it feels, and on the way discover that I should be writing all of these things but they're too much to take all at once. Instead I'll leave it at this because in some ways it feels like coming home... Yeah... this feels good. It doesn't make sense and it is borderline coherent but sometimes that's ok too.

A year.

Today marks the one year anniversary of my worst day.

One year ago I was forced to say goodbye to my Father in a hospital room in Rochester Minnesota.

I've tried to write this half a dozen times today... and failed miserably each time, until now.

Why? Because today was so very much easier than I expected. And so very much worse than I could have anticipated. To be perfectly honest I went to sleep last night somewhat dreading today, but when I awoke this morning I was so busy with getting to the right class on time that I honestly forgot to take note until I was sitting at lunch and a close friend pinned me down and asked how I was doing. And then asked again. And demanded a real answer. At that point it all began to come back. I left lunch and quickly headed back to my room... and curled up in bed in an almost identical fashion to a hotel room a year ago. An indeterminate amount of time later I fell asleep and when I awoke the numbness that was life for most of February had settled over me... and I haven't really been able to shake it, and I'm not sure I want to.

Now, I should also mention that today wasn't all miserable, in fact as I mentioned it was also easier than I expected. I've had several friends text, or ask, how I'm doing knowing and caring deeply that the answer was unlikely to be good and offering whatever support they can. I also get to lean on the wonderful picture of faithfulness we were blessed with this week; Even as we mourn the passing of a year, and the unfortunate truth that both John Sr. (my grandpa) and John Jr. (my dad) are no longer here... John David Oegema (my newly born second nephew, given a mighty namesake from both sides of his family) has joined us with impeccable timing.

I should also mention that even as I slipped out of the cafeteria with my rapidly decaying emotional state I checked my mailbox to find a letter from my dear Aunt and Uncle who were with us that day. Expressing the shared pain and an enduring hope: That Dad is gone, but that his (and my) redeemer lives and is at work even now through this.

The simple act of being given a plant as a reminder of life amongst the unavoidable pain of death. Not knowing quite what to send when her first choice was gone, my Mother told the florist to send "something that'd go well in a college guy's room" and having them deliver a vibrant bamboo plant. The same wood that was used to make a small box where Dad's ashes were placed. Coincidence? perhaps, but either way a blessing.

And the brotherly pride of reading the words of others (my sister) who are suffering through this in their own way, amidst the pain of searching for my own thoughts. And the blessing of finally finding some however inadequate this is.

I miss you dear ol' Dad... I wish you could have been there to see the coyotes game on new years, you would have had a blast. I wish you could have met your namesake. I wish I could have let you know how well I did this last semester, and the wonderful community I've found here in Omaha. And more than anything I wish I could give you a hug... and let you know that I love you. But I can't...

Right now I just have the pain, and the knowledge that for many tomorrows I'll be forced to walk this road without him. But thanks to the crazy, mind-boggling grace of God we'll be together again, and I can't wait to tell Dad everything I've learned while I waited for that time.