The Magic of Beaver Camp

Tonight, Lewis was not ready to sleep at bedtime.  So I strapped him onto my front and headed out to "walk the floor" of Beaver Camp at dusk. 

This is the last week of residence camp for the summer, and the last week for several of our summer staff members.  It is surprisingly close to the end of this season of my life on year-round staff.  So it's a nostalgic time.  This morning, when I met with Rash, she commented that she's trying to soak in as many images of Camp's beauty as she can burn into her memory, because it's likely to be a long, long time before she'll see this wonderful place again.  I find myself doing the same thing because, though I'll be back here before Rash, I don't know when I'll be here next with campers, surrounded by the music of a summer camp preparing for nighttime.  

My walk around camp took me out to the end of the dock.  The evening is so serene, and the water reflects perfect images; the only ripples were sent out by my footsteps down the dock.  In each direction I saw, I listened to, many different scenes of quintessential Camp. 

At Fireside, behind the Pavilion, I heard the conviction of Jay Trainor's voice proclaiming the gospel for 13 year olds: "And they both heard the voice of God on the same subject--but Ananias heard that message out of a spirit of fear...Saul had to have a dramatic conversion, because..."  And then later I heard those 51 kids respond as one with their desire to take the message of Jesus to their peers. 

In Balsam, Ris and Libby's girls chatted and giggled as they dressed for tonight's game of Persecution.  Ris told me last Friday that when she was 14, she was my camper in Balsam for 13-14 week, and it was one of her favorite weeks of camp ever.  And now, during (likely) her last summer ever at Beaver Camp, she gets to counsel 13 and 14 year old girls...in Balsam.  She is so thrilled!  And my spirit rejoices and is thankful. 

Across the lake, a pontoon boat motors into port, it's buzz growing quieter as it moves further down the lake.  It reminds me that Beaver Lake is much larger than it appears from the shore of Camp.  That boat's home is marked by a small light shining brightly across the water. 

Somewhere out in the middle, two loons tremolo and wail to each other.  It is such haunting, beautiful music!  To be woken by loons on the lake at night is to experience quiet wonder, to smile in your half-sleep. 

Right next to me, the masts and moorings of our small fleet of boats squeaked and bobbed against their dock anchors and cleats.  That is a gentle murmuring, a comforting sound. 

On Chicken Coop Island, the jubilant shouts and laughter of 10 year old boys rose and fell and then turned into...wolf howls.  They are camping out tonight, and their fire and flashlights were barely visible through the trees at the middle of their little kingdom. 

This place has a large part of my heart, and I am so thankful for the ways that God has woven Beaver Camp into my own story.  I am so thankful for a son who wasn't ready to fall asleep, sending me out across Camp to discover the magic of this night. 

Topiaries

"Every branch of mine that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit...Abide in me, and I in you.  As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me."  John 15:2,4

Father, thank you for this encouragement today.  Because you know what it tells me?  That I bear fruit for you, and so am worth pruning.  Thank you for pruning me and shaping me in to the topiary of everything you mean me to be.

Today I can pull weeds, and bake bread, and do more laundry, and play with my boys, and call for appointments, and write thank you notes, and organize a library binder, and go to church early this evening to share that beautiful library, and even share a meal with my church family.  Thank you, Father, for all the good things I can put my hands to today.  Amen. 

That was my journal entry this morning.  (Only my fifth entry since Lewis was born almost four months ago!)   The latest thing I am thankful for is that both boys are currently sleeping, and I decided to re-read this morning's thoughts.  Because now all my priorities are fresh on my mind again, so I can go tackle 'em :0)

Sink or Swim...Is Flounder an Option?

I learned to juggle in elementary gym class.  Using silk scarves.  I succeeded with those slow floaters, but I have never managed to juggle anything more substantial.  Right now, I am trying to juggle what feels like way too many responsibilities, and it makes me feel pretty unsuccessful.  You see, it isn't so much the main bullet points on my list (mothering and sweetie-pieing, keeping house, managing the Beaver Camp office, managing a church library renewal, miscellany).  It's that each of those bullet points is made up of about 111 sub-points.  My dad would want to know the current "job description" of each of these different projects, but to make a long, not-comprehensive list here would just sound like complaining.  And he'll be up for a visit at the other end of this weekend, so I can describe for him directly :0)  

It's going to be OK.  The library grand opening is June 17.  We will starting living at Camp part-time the first week of July, which will allow me to work more days with greater focus (because Lewis will be with daddy and Lincoln tramping around with campers, instead of under my desk).  And then, before we know it, September will come and with the changing leaves I will come home to be with my boys full time.  Writing about this reminded me of a section out of Rachel Jankovic's book Loving the Little Years, so I just flipped through awhile and will share her thoughts on my current feelings:

It was somewhere around this time that I realized I had better strike the word   overwhelmed from my vocabulary.

God gave me this to do.  I may not be overwhelmed about it.  I can try as hard as I can, and maybe fail sometimes.  I can try as hard as I can and fall asleep at the dinner table.  I can try as hard as I can and be completely burned out at the end of the day.  But I may not be overwhelmed.  Actually, I may be overwhelmed, but I may not say that I am overwhelmed!  The words have a real power over us.  If you say it, you allow it for yourself.  You give yourself that little bit of room to say, "But I can't!" (p. 41)

For a friend last night, the fragment of a verse came to mind: "keep him in perfect peace."  I love that my Bible has a concordance at the back, and it took me right to Isaiah 26:3, which says "You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You."  What a fitting reminder for right now, when my quiet time might need to happen while brushing my teeth.  But it's so much better than no quiet time at all.  Jehovah Jireh ("my Provider") and his Word must be the foundation of all I undertake to do.  Because everything that's needed (and He'll help to know what is and isn't needed) I can do through Christ who strengthens me!  

The Best Laid Plans

I had lots of errands to run in Boonville yesterday.  It was beautiful outside, so I planned to end our trip with a picnic lunch in the park.  

But in Boonville, the sun shone bright...and the wind blew cooold.  That doesn't make for a fun picnic.  And boy was I bummed.

And then I thought, "Hey!  We'll have a picnic in our own yard, where it's just as sunny and not as windy!"

But when we pulled in the driveway, I found my toddler floppy-asleep, and Lewis content to nap in his car seat.  So I ate lunch without them, at the kitchen table.  

And at 2:00, we finally had our picnic :0)

"Dare Alla Luce"

"The Italian phrase for 'giving birth' is 'dare alla luce,' which literally translates 'to give into the light.'"


          From the 2011 Christmas letter of Ed Schwabenland, friend of my parents


I want to ponder this awhile, then paint a sign with the phrase to hang on my kitchen wall (or other often-looked-upon spot).  There are so many  beautiful applications for giving a person or a thing into the light.

Philadelphia Story, or Grace Upon Grace: the Prequel

With family and friends at Church of the Savior, Palm Sunday 2012 (4/1).

Several weeks ago my brother sent me a text message: "Is there any way you guys could come down sometime this spring?"  He's a junior at Eastern University, Philly, PA.  The first (and last) time our little family made it down to visit was during his very first semester, when Lincoln was roughly three months old.  Obviously we were overdue for another visit.  The only problem?  I had just promised my husband we wouldn't travel anywhere during his spring break this year!

We talked it over in the following week and decided on a solution: I would travel down with Lewis alone on Palm Sunday weekend, leaving Andy and Lincoln home for a "man's weekend" together.  That way, Will could at least meet his new nephew before the kid is crawling.  

During this trip, and on my way home, the phrase "grace upon grace" first entered my head and I looked forward to writing about it for you; yesterday's post just happened to get written first, during that grace-filled breakfast.  Here are some of the reasons why my Philly trip proved so grace-full:

1. The sun shone brilliantly all day Friday as I drove.  And I had new sunglasses :0)
2. Lewis and I were pretty in-sync with our needs for bathroom and nursing breaks, which made for relaxed stops in Chittenango, the PA welcome center, and Allentown rest areas.  At the PA border, I even got to enjoy a beautiful view of the valley before me and all the travelers coming and going while Lewis enjoyed his meal. 
3. I pulled in to Will's parking lot with just the right amount of time to hug him hard, deliver his loaf of banana bread and Earl Gray tea, and follow him to a good spot to settle in a bit before the start of his lacrosse practice.  
4. During those thirty minutes, I met both Megan and Abbey, the two most anxious to cuddle my newborn among Will's many friends.  Arranged for cuddling to ensue at the dining hall table while I ate with free hands.
5. Lewis had a diaper...meltdown...during that practice.  I congratulated him for not doing that in front of his uncle, who might never have touched him again.  And the thought of that made me giggle through the clean-up.  
6. Took a walk around Eastern's beautiful campus, soaking in the sunshine and blossoming and blooming.  On one of the walkways, the chalked message "Are you ready to be transformed by God?" spoke very directly to me.  "Yes," I smiled, "yes I am!"  No matter that subsequent chalk messages further along the path proved it was an advertisement for a play on campus that night.  God knows how to get this girl's attention :0)
7. I enjoyed an evening with college students, the first in a few years now.
8. Then I followed my dad's very thorough instructions to my weekend home at the Allison's house, family friends who I haven't really seen in almost 7 years.  And we had a wonderful visit.
9. Saturday morning their daughter Melissa brought her two boys over for awhile.  They are delightful.  I got to participate in a "road rally" on plasma cars in the driveway, and marvel with them at all the different birds visiting the feeders over our peanut butter sandwiches.
10. THEN I got a quick visit with my old friend Eric, the boy across the street with whom I palled around as a kid every summer during the weeks we house sat for the Allisons.  Fourteen years since I last saw him.  
11. I drove back to campus to meet up with my parents, who came down both to watch Will's game and to see their grandbaby.  
12. Though it was a rainy, raw day in southeaster PA, I stayed cozy in a comfy lounge overlooking the lacrosse field, where I watched an excellent game (2 goals, 2 assists by my bro, and a big win for the team) while visiting with my parents and meeting lots more college girls enamored with my baby.  
13. After the game, the team's "tailgate" party proved to be a muy bueno Italian feast.  YUM!
14. Then we headed back to the Allison's for some muy bueno dessert and more visiting.  
15. Sunday morning, we went all together to Church of the Savior, where I was in Sunday School from approximately ages 0-10.  So...almost 17 years since I've been there.  
16. Chatted with a few families still there from when I was a kid.  
17. Will took us to a yummy (though greasy) lunch at his local Five Guys.  
18. For the first half of the trip home, I got the company of my wonderful dad, with whom I sang and talked about all sorts of good, meaty things before parting ways at a New York rest area.  And so, even though the drive home was through crummy weather, the mood inside the car was happy and bright. 
19. My final nursing stop was in a comfy leather chair of an Indian souvenir shop in the Turning Stone Casino.  I'm not a big fan of gambling or the smoky game rooms.  But I'm just fine with their glitzy bathrooms and comfy, quiet places to sit...even if it is over the top to stock an Oneida Indian resort with Plains tribal artifacts.  
20. Last stop: I picked up the other half of my family from the Putnam's home in Remsen, and swapped vehicles with my hubby so I could sing songs to Lincoln in the last 30 minutes of my trip.  I missed that little boy <3

This is a long read.  If you're all the way to here, thank you!  Now go do this for me: look around you, whatever your day is holding, and find your own graces-upon-graces.  They are there, and you'll be blessed!

Grace Upon Grace

This morning, I return to my job as Office Manager at Beaver Camp.  I've been home for about 7 weeks, enjoying the opportunity to grow and learn about my "new" family of four.  It's a good family :0)  That alone is grace upon grace. 

But there's so much more! 

In the past several days, I have not felt stress about the start of this new season; indeed, I've even looked forward to the going-ahead-and-starting of these next ten weeks (then yet another season will begin with the close of school and the start of summer's camp schedule).

Last night, Lewis slept for his longest stretches yet.  He went 4 and a 1/4 hours his first leg of the night, then another 3!  This meant that for the first time, I was only up twice in the night. 

And this morning, he slept through my 5am alarm, my shower, my dressing and even makeup, my preparations of Lincoln's breakfast before either boy was up, my own "first breakfast," packing some of our supplies for the day, making the bed, and also Lincoln's first breakfast once Andy got him up.

There have been no long stretches of crying, and Lincoln is currently tucking Lewis into the bouncer using the mostly clean burp cloth I always have close at hand. 

It is an immature measure of God's care for us that says "if He loves me, He'll do good things for me."  Of course hard and even terrible things happen to us--that is just part of living in a broken world, a broken body, with a sinful nature that reaps us unfortunate consequences.  However, He DOES love to shower us, His children, with good gifts. 

And this morning has already been a good--no, many good--gift(s)!