It's always the left eye. Fervent prayers before bed, "I already used my backup, I can't deal with this, please heal this eye...make it stop hurting." I know better than to bargain with God, so I merely promised myself an eye appointment sometime in the next month. Prayers still on my lips, I slipped off to sleep. I dreamed the most vividly real dream I have ever experienced. I dreamed that you were leaving me, that you were resolute and I couldn't stop sobbing in disbelief at my utterly complete heartbreak. Gasping for air I broke the dream's surface, shocked to be awake. Tears in real life flowed out of me at 5:30am and wouldn't stop for minutes on end. The relief of the dream's transience, the devestation that racked my body, the overwhelming need to roll over and find you still there, only to find an empty bed, still miles away from reassurance.

As the tears died down, the comfort of your love and the ring on my finger reassuring me, I hear a whisper in the back of my head. "Your eye has been completely washed out, cleaned by your salient tears." Speechless, I thought "thankyou" and wished that it didn't take quite so much to fix that issue.
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I've been biting back tears most of the day. I didn't sleep well the next 90 minutes, restlessly afraid to fall back into the same dream. It seems fitting to be talking about identity to these campers when it is such a question for me. I don't fit, my friendships are changing...and I don't know what to make of it. But as we sing about finding our rest in God, our hope and our salvation I well up with tears. Where is identity when you don't fit right anymore. Joining the ranks of the marrieds alters the playing field. I have to reassure myself of what I tell these campers, that there's something deeper, something truer and less transient. That there's something uniting us all, there's a deep love that I can tap into...and I know I am loved by my creator and rescuer. I am struck that God never ceases to bring me here without something for me to hear, without something to work out in my own heart. Truthfully, I'm nervous to go back to sleep, unsure of what the night will bring. I pray for reconciliation and reunion...I pray for sweet, sweet sleep...I pray.

all this motion, just to stay the same

Coming back here for me is akin to slipping on a pair of your favorite something. Well worn, soft in all the right places...and you know who you are in the clothes. They fit you, they stretched with you. I say that this camp is like my heart's second home, but it's more than just the camp -- it's these people. It's these people who I've grown up with, who know me for me, and it's easy. I know who I am here. And it's these kids -- kids I've known since they were 6, kids I met for the first time today. It's the rugged hospitality, the southern drawl, the encouragement and excitement at this rustic, simple camp. It's Jonesville, and driving by the trailers and civil war houses. It's the beauty of the landscape, the lush rolling hills and 87% humidity. It's the simplicity and barrenness of life, the struggle to survive and the safe haven that CMMBC presents. It's all of the cultural and contextual issues that go into creating this environment of poverty and abundant living that fall by the wayside as you love the kids IN THE MOMENT.

Why does this feel so much like home to me? I'm truly conscious of what's missing here (you) and the skip in my heart tells me that all would nearly be complete with you here. I wish I could share this with you. I wish you could see what I see, live what i'm living, feel this second home for me. I don't know why this place gets me this way, I only know that somehow, I'm doing what I love to do, with people I love doing that ministry with. I need to bring this heart place back to Saint Paul with me, I can't imagine leaving this peace behind. I can't imagine the peace that awaits me. I just can't imagine.

Reawakening

When it came to it, I couldn't remember when I stopped reading. Moreover, I couldn't remember why. Between the pages required for class, anything much beyond some devotional time in my Bible and some long familiar pages from Bill Bryson or To Kill A Mockingbird, the drive flicked out. Until this Christmas, when I intentionally asked for three books and read all of them over the next three months. Muscles and determination long fallow began to slowly flex their muscles again and in the past month I remembered how much I love to read. I mean, this passion has exploded in the vaccuum of a schedule too programmed and full to accomdate this renewed love.

I narrate to myself as I think, weaving words together that cause yearning for an implant in my brain to record my monologues. I wish I was being melodramatic, I wish I was exaggerating...but help me, they sound that good in my head. Conversely, my lack of time to put pen to paper or eyes to novel seems inconsequential...my dreams last night found me hunched over a desk, writing a novel. If it doesn't get done on this end, at least I can accomplish great things in my dreams.
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Back from a great vacation. Lots of food, family and travels. There's a post brewing somewhere about slipping another's grandparents on like a comfortable sweater...but I'm not there yet. I only leave with these thoughts -- "you are the best one of the best ones...you have stolen my heart."

Members Only

Standing in line, ready to put our Discover card to good use, I turned to Dan and said "Having a membership at Sam's Club makes me feel like we are real adults." To which my dear husband laughed, nodded and said "You're going to blog about this, aren't you?"

Why, yes. Yes I am.

I also felt like a "real adult" going to the dealership and coming out with minimal repairs needed. A nice break from the bottomless hole in your gut of "please fix whatever is cheapest and can get me through until my next oil change/I get a raise/I total this car and have to purchase another. But it was, infact, the need for new tires with a vacation less than 48 hours away that prompted us to trek down the highway and apply at Sam's. I suppose that we are now officially "consumers*" complete with membership to a big lot, bulk packaged store.
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In other news, we head up to Michigan with Dan's parents tomorrow morning. This vacation feels well earned and much needed. In a bittersweet turn of a typical summer, this vacation also signifies the beginning of the end as far as my summer is concerned. I return on Sunday night, only to leave 4 days later. A trip where I will be gone for 8 days, and yes, leaving again 7 days later. Then two straight weeks of camps and trips...back to our Heroes in Training camp, which eats my days, then a 4 day break and we're off to the all-church retreat. Which brings me to the end of August. It's going to be fun, tiring, stressful and awesome.
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*It also feels very adult to have a membership to Sam's and not leave our first time there with a massive pile of things we don't need. A pair of running shorts, vaccuum, cat and bird food were all needed and reasonable. It's important to recognize the small things.