Camp
I’d been afraid recently that when I got to camp I wouldn’t be the same. I was afraid I’d be tired all the time, that I wouldn’t be able to be in charge of programming the way I should and that because of being here I wouldn’t care as much. It’s awful being tired like that at camp and I was/am afraid I will be.
Liz had wanted to have a VBS for a long time because we’d been sent so much stuff for kids but it’s seemed like recently I haven’t had the drive or passion to help with it. Everything just too different and I’m already so tired all the time. So she worked with Noel, the terrorist turned hospital chaplain. It was decided that we’d go down to his house to have it. This meant we’d have to walk down to Bendalay and back every night. The first night, Monday, was a big culture shock. A camp prog dir I have my ways of doing things and taking over if things get out of hand and chaotic. Well this was so far out of my league and comfort zone that I didn’t say one word, especially because it was all in Nandjere. I even told Liz we shouldn’t even try to lead out in songs but to let Noel do it all. Whether it was right or not, I don’t know but that’s how I felt. Day two I was no better. I was only a bit more aware of what was to come and to be honest I didn’t want to go. But someone had to, and my kids wanted to go. Then came yesterday, Wednesday, the day I was scheduled to speak –to tell the story of Noah. I was also worrying a lot about camp – the affor mentioned worries (tiredness, lack of drive ect . . .) Luckily all 4 of us were able to go along with some of Esther’s, Liz’s and my kids. WE made quite an entourage heading down there. The one thing that had been nice about walking the sometimes 30 min walk (small kids = long time :o) was my kids would hold my hands and walking with them at night with a light felt like being a counselor again.
Back to Wednesday, while the kids were singing and Noel asks questions about Monday nights story ( no story Tuesday because of strong crazy winds) I stood in the back across the path in the shadows and looked up into the heavens. I asked for help. I knew I hadn’t been trusting like I should but I also knew I needed help to tell the story especially because I turned down Hans’ offer to translate into French for me. Then I heard Noel say my name and other things in Nandjere and I knew it was time. Then like always because God never fails He helped me to tell a story to open ears and hearts. I hadn’t even planned on telling this way until I was up there. I told the story with kids as the actors/mimes/visuals. And the words in French were okay. Noel understood enough to translate.
You see all those fears I had about camp are silly because it’s God’s show. If He’s called me He’ll give me the energy the drive and there will be children’s lives touched – not by anything I or anyone else can do. Only by the work of God through me/us.
I’m still unsure about how I’ll feel when I get to camp but I know that when the time comes to work God will give me His strength and passion to do the job. Last night was proof and the reassurance that I needed to feel.
Liz had wanted to have a VBS for a long time because we’d been sent so much stuff for kids but it’s seemed like recently I haven’t had the drive or passion to help with it. Everything just too different and I’m already so tired all the time. So she worked with Noel, the terrorist turned hospital chaplain. It was decided that we’d go down to his house to have it. This meant we’d have to walk down to Bendalay and back every night. The first night, Monday, was a big culture shock. A camp prog dir I have my ways of doing things and taking over if things get out of hand and chaotic. Well this was so far out of my league and comfort zone that I didn’t say one word, especially because it was all in Nandjere. I even told Liz we shouldn’t even try to lead out in songs but to let Noel do it all. Whether it was right or not, I don’t know but that’s how I felt. Day two I was no better. I was only a bit more aware of what was to come and to be honest I didn’t want to go. But someone had to, and my kids wanted to go. Then came yesterday, Wednesday, the day I was scheduled to speak –to tell the story of Noah. I was also worrying a lot about camp – the affor mentioned worries (tiredness, lack of drive ect . . .) Luckily all 4 of us were able to go along with some of Esther’s, Liz’s and my kids. WE made quite an entourage heading down there. The one thing that had been nice about walking the sometimes 30 min walk (small kids = long time :o) was my kids would hold my hands and walking with them at night with a light felt like being a counselor again.
Back to Wednesday, while the kids were singing and Noel asks questions about Monday nights story ( no story Tuesday because of strong crazy winds) I stood in the back across the path in the shadows and looked up into the heavens. I asked for help. I knew I hadn’t been trusting like I should but I also knew I needed help to tell the story especially because I turned down Hans’ offer to translate into French for me. Then I heard Noel say my name and other things in Nandjere and I knew it was time. Then like always because God never fails He helped me to tell a story to open ears and hearts. I hadn’t even planned on telling this way until I was up there. I told the story with kids as the actors/mimes/visuals. And the words in French were okay. Noel understood enough to translate.
You see all those fears I had about camp are silly because it’s God’s show. If He’s called me He’ll give me the energy the drive and there will be children’s lives touched – not by anything I or anyone else can do. Only by the work of God through me/us.
I’m still unsure about how I’ll feel when I get to camp but I know that when the time comes to work God will give me His strength and passion to do the job. Last night was proof and the reassurance that I needed to feel.
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