On Not Pursuing "The American Dream"

You know who was a really wise man?

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

I'm glad we have a celebration of his life, because I bet he didn't really get celebrated much while he was here.

I sometimes think even if people had publicly celebrated him during his life, he was probably too busy humbly making things happen to allow himself to be celebrated.

I've never seen a quote from him that I didn't like, but today, one hit me extra hard with it's depth of truth:

"The end of life is not to be happy, nor to achieve pleasure and avoid pain, but to do the will of God, come what may."

I might be wrong, but I've always thought maybe his goal wasn't to create a political movement, but more to do what he knew God wanted him to do.  His boldness and gentleness sounds almost superhuman sometimes - he must have had more motivation than just a "cause."

I've been reading the Psalms lately, and there is so much there about our God being a God of justice - He never forgets the needy or afflicted (Ps. 9:18).

Dr. King did so much for America, but I don't know that he did it with America in mind, and he certainly didn't do it because society expected it of him (society in general didn't seem too keen on what he was doing).  He did it because he served a God of justice and he couldn't ignore that calling on his life.

To me, that's the bravest thing he did - he didn't do what people expected of him, but he did do what he knew he was supposed to do.

But what about when you're not called to bold action?

What if you're called to silent service?

Like me, what if you're working quietly and invisibly in the background?  I've been called to the background, and I'm staying there until I'm called to the front lines.

And if I'm never called to the front lines and I stay in the background for my entire life on this Earth, I will have done the best thing I could have possibly done with my one wild and precious life.

I wonder sometimes if we do our children a disservice by raising them to be movers and shakers just because that's what we do in America.

Don't get me wrong - I'm all for leaders and world-changers, but let's be sure we're not doing these things because they're what will help us be happy, achieve pleasure, and avoid pain.

Let's do good because it's right, even when it's hard and counter-cultural.

I'm a nanny, and I love those kids, and I would love to think that I'm helping, in some small way, to raise the next president of the United States (who knows - I might be), but I'm also totally on board with the kids' dad, who says frequently that he doesn't care what his kids do with their future - they could be ditch-diggers or garbage men, as long as they are being the best ditch-diggers or garbage men they can be.

The leaders and the world-changers will emerge, whether we raise them to be such or not, because they will know, just like Dr. King did, that they can't do anything but what they've been called to do.

Micah 6:8 says "He has shown you, oh man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you?  To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God."

Let's raise up a generation to do that, and see how they will change the world.

Told you this posting-every-day thing wouldn't last.

I am pretty proud of the fact that I was able to do it as long as I did!
And don't you worry - I'm not leaving you for good.  But, really, the past couple of days' prompts for writing were just a little...immature(?)...for my taste (first love and first kiss/night of your 21st birthday/tattoos you have and their meanings [okay, so maybe that one wasn't immature - just not applicable here]).  I mean, I could tell you about my incredibly awkward first kiss, or about the recent realization I've come to that I've probably never been in love.  I could also tell you that I don't remember my 21st birthday - and not because I got drunk, just because I had no interest in celebrating it in a typical American-College-Student way, and probably went out for dinner with friends or something - but those just didn't feel like blog posts that anyone would get any enjoyment out of. Neither I from writing them, nor you from reading them.

So, we come to today's topic, which was definitely worthy:



I always hated the "Where do you see yourself in five years?" interview question, because my heart answer was always "In a happy little home with 2 or 3 kids," while my mouth answer had to be something more like "In [insert name of leadership position] with [insert name of company], hopefully having used my creative abilities to add [insert name of program that would advance company goals]."

Oh yeah, I knew how to do it the right way.  After all, I worked in career services, and coached everybody else on how to be successful in their job search.

But my answer to that question has changed significantly.  I'm not sure there will ever again be that significant of a difference in my heart answer and my mouth answer.  At this point in my life, I don't really have a desire to ever enter the 8-5 office job world again.  I enjoyed being in that type of environment, being able to serve and help make other people's lives a little bit easier, but the way I answer this question now has much more to do with my heart than logic.

If threre's anything the last four or so years of my life has taught me, it's that you never know how things will turn out.
No.  That's too mild a way of saying it: Things will turn out differently than you expect.

So, now, I'm learning that I lean very heavily toward creativity.  I've got enough life experience under my belt to know that I cannot possibly predict where my personal life will be in seven years - there's no way of knowing where I'll be living, and with whom, and why.

But I do know what I'm working toward in my "professional" life.  There are three specific areas I'm working towards, but they all need more work than I'm giving them right now, so maybe this is me writing it out to keep myself accountable.

1)  I've recently been given an opportunity to work with a writing curriculum as a training consultant, which basically means I'll go to schools after they've adopted the curriculum, and train their teachers to implement the curriculum in their classrooms.
Writing and literacy are my passions, so to be able to do this for a company that I believe in is beyond amazing, but y'all!  It's almost like I've been afraid to make it happen.  I'm in the middle of training, and the next part is completely in my hands, and I'm just petrified to complete it...
I don't know what it is, but it's almost like I feel like this is too good to be true, so I don't want to invest in it for fear of losing something I've been happy about - like I'd rather leave it in my future, because as soon as I put it in my present, it'll be headed into my past.
But that is the WRONG way to look at this, and the job itself is one that requires a lot of effort on my part if I'm going to go anywhere with it, so I'd better start making efforts now, at the beginning.

2)  In case you weren't aware, I have an etsy shop where I sell homemade earrings (and, hopefully, sometime in the future, more than just earrings).  You can find it here.  Or just type essiejean.etsy.com in your browser.
The thing about that is, just like so many other things I do, I started it, and it didn't magically bloom into a thriving business, so I just set it aside and didn't do anything actively to make it grow.  I've recently begun studying up on how I can be more intentional and strategic in building it up over the next year - learning from other creatives and using marketing strategies that work for me, so hopefully you will hear more about that in the coming months.  I had big dreams of doing a Holiday marketing blitz, but I feel like I need to focus on other things this holiday season, and just steadily build up my little etsy platform with the goal of maybe doing something huge next holiday season after I've learned more about what actually works for me and my little shop.

3)  Grad School is still on my horizon as far as I'm concerned, but it's probably going to have to wait at least another five years, if not seven, for too many reasons to list here.  But here I am, putting it on this list, because I really do want to make it happen one of these days.  The nice thing is that my goal isn't grad school for grad school's sake.  I want a Master's Degree because I would love to one day teach college writing.  I don't know what I mean by "one day" - Lord willing, maybe it won't be until after I've raised a passel of kids, and taught them how to write.

Nonetheless, someday I'm going to wake up and realize that one day is here, and when that happens, I want to have the skills to meet the day confidently.

Let's Talk About Social Media

For my first topic in this November challenge, I ended up drawing the slip of paper that corresponded to the first day of the challenge - what are the odds of that?

Seriously, somebody *cough* mathematician-brother-in-law *cough* figure that out and tell me, because I actually kinda want to know.

I'm supposed to write about "Five Problems with Social Media" and it shouldn't be too hard for me to come up with those, but really?  Could we not start this out on a more positive note?

Let's just see what I can do with this:

• We're constantly competing with our friends' phone screens/social media accounts for their attention.  I personally don't watch movies for entertainment.  I could count on one hand the amount of times I have sat in my house by myself and thought "I really want to watch a movie."  This is something I do with friends as a way of spending time with them, but lately I've noticed every time a friend suggests movie night, we're not sitting around looking at a glowing screen and talking about what's happening 10 feet in front of us.  We're really just each individually absorbed in the glowing screen one foot in front of us instead.  Same goes for dinner out - this was once a time reserved for spending face-to-face time with people, but no more - we're constantly checking our instagram, twitter, facebook, blog, etc.

What is the deal here?  Are we afraid they're going to disappear if we don't connect with them every 5 minutes?  What about the actual friends in front of us?  What'll happen if they really do disappear because we ceased connecting with them in significant ways?

• Social media is a great vehicle for jealousy.  We're all putting our best foot forward, so to speak, and we're all afraid to put our mess out there for everybody to look at.  Consequently, we think we're the only ones in the world that have a mess, because we don't see anybody else's mess on social media.

Preaching to the choir, but seriously.  What kind of messed up logic is this that we assume we're the only ones masking our life here.

• Social media inhibits our ability to acknowledge each other's basic humanity in a major way - it's so easy to shoot off a quick, maybe cruel, comment or message when all you're looking at is a perfect smiling face on a 4.7-inch screen.

Let's all just agree to take a breath and re-read before sending anything that could be even slightly hurtful. Just consider for a minute how we, in all of our tender thin skin, would feel if somebody said exactly that to us.

• People find you.  Creepy people can find you, and you can even engage with them thinking that they're harmless.  This is a reality a lot of us become numbed to, because social media is so easily logged out of or locked, but it's also super easy to unwisely put too much out there and get into trouble for it.

Sometimes even, as sad as this might sound, you just need separation from a person in your past - maybe a past relationship that will keep holding you back unless you cut ties, or just someone who has hurt you emotionally.  These ties to our past are So. Much. Harder. to cut than they were before the advent of facebook, etc.

• Social Media is MURDERING good grammar.  Maybe I punctuated that last sentence in the above paragraph the way I did because I wanted to make a point here, or maybe I did it just because it somehow seems appropriate since everybody else does it.

I'm as guilty of this as the next person, but that doesn't mean it doesn't make me sad that "proper grammar" may be a thing of the past by the time my children are old enough to learn about it.

People, what if a sentence someday becomes just an old-fashioned convention nobody uses anymore?!

Somebody please stop me before I really become a drama queen about this.

Whew!  I just wrote a list of five negative things about social media!  Where's my award?

But really, I couldn't close this post without saying a few good things too:

Social media keeps me in touch with people I would have lost contact with by now if I'd lived a generation ago.

In my past, I was blessed to work with people from all over the world (I'd like to think I'd have housing, or at least connections, if I wanted to travel almost anywhere on this big planet).  My mom at my age would never have been able to keep up with as many people in as many different places as I have.

I can make friends with people anywhere - I'm not restricted to meeting people in person.

Before I say anything else about this, let me be perfectly clear - no one should ever have only online friends - there is no substitute for an actual make-eye-contact, touch-your-hand, buy-you-ice-cream friend in your real world, but I am learning that online friends are fun too.

Remember pen pals from when we were little?  I have one of those that I met on Instagram, and I am so happy we're in each other's life "for real" now.  Maybe I'll actually get to buy her ice cream someday.

Also, no one should just throw personal information out there willy-nilly because they think they made a friend - always always be careful and wise in your actions and words.

And finally, networking! Most of us could theoretically get a job anywhere on this green earth through just putting out feelers to our friends on social media. 

In more personal aspects of life, even - tonight, I sent an email to a random blogger, just to tell her she'd sprinkled a little inspiration onto my life, and she actually replied, expressing interest in supporting me along the way.  How wonderful is that?

Social media is truly amazing if used wisely.

What's in My Bag, aka I Want a Diaper Bag SO Bad Right Now

When I became a nanny, I had no idea how difficult it would be to find a bag that would suit my needs.

Frequently, I go straight from work to run errands, or to exercise class, or to Bible Study, depending on the day, so carrying everything I need, plus the things I need for the kiddos has become quite the challenge.  And it only gets harder in the summer when we head to the splash pad, etc...

I started off with backpacks, but, y'all, I may be willing to wear shorts, t-shirts, and ball caps all day for work, but carrying a backpack on top of all that?  I honestly felt like I was 12, and probably looked like it too, thanks to my great non-aging genes, which I'm sure I'll be grateful for when I'm 50 or something...

So it became necessary to carry something a little more mature.  Plus, I realize it may murder my back, but I've always loved over-the-shoulder bags more, simply because they can be accessed without ever taking them off - just pull out the sippy cup and voila, you never even had to stop walking - look at me being all practical!

I found this Fossil bag, which I can't complain about, because I know it will serve me well for many years, and I scored it at the outlet for only thirty-something bucks, but it's better for carrying around a lap-top and a few books than all the things I need with the kids.

Sometime after I found this bag, I discovered Lily Jade, and immediately began jonesing over their beautiful and practical Caroline.  I mean, goodness gracious, the thing is red, not to mention exactly my style.

You can imagine when Lily Jade announced that I could make a blog post and be entered in a giveaway, I was all for it, so here you go - What's in my bag:



Notebooks of all kinds (planner, meal-tracker, sketchbook, you get the idea), and usually a few letters to reply to or a knitting project to catch up on in case I get the chance during nap or something. (Doesn't really ever happen, in case you were wondering, but a girl can hope, right?)

Tissues and Lotion for me, wipes for the kids in case of ice cream stickiness and what-not.

Honestly, there are usually way more kid's meal toys floating around in my bag than just those three, but most of them are in the back seat of my car right now along with last week's potato chip crumbs and fruit roll-up wrappers...

Anybody who knows me much at all, knows that I always have more pens than any one person has good use for, and it seems that I either have zero lip balm/gloss, or a ton.

I've learned that it's best to keep a smaller bag in my big one, packed with "purse essentials," (phone, keys, wallet, glasses, more pens and lip balm) so if I'm going straight somewhere after work, I can just throw the big bag in back of my car and carry my valuables around with me.

I also usually have a sippy cup or two, a water bottle if the big boy is with us, a special blanket, a diaper, and the toy of the moment (the size of which I heavily regulate). But I leave those things at work for obvious reasons, and this photo was taken at home.

Imagine adding all of those things, plus my water bottle, to this:

Yeah, I need a diaper bag.

Never thought I'd say that at this point in my life, but I guess you never know where you'll be...

She Shares Truth: Commissioned Moments

I love that She Reads Truth has asked us to talk about "Commissioned Moments" (rather than big mission trips or other such things) based on the verses in Matthew 28:16-20, which are often called The Great Commission.



There was a time when I was in college, when I suddenly noticed that the Christians I'd been around talked almost exclusively about The Great Commission as if it meant to go away from where you were to spread the gospel.  Suddenly, after encountering teenagers here in the US who had never even heard the name of Jesus, I realized it is absolutely not just about going elsewhere.  It's also about staying right here (we are part of "all nations") and listening for that still, small voice that says "Speak now, here, my child."



During my last two years of college, I was taking full-time classes, and working two part-time jobs, which added up to almost full-time hours - we're talking full schedule from 8am-8pm every day.  I was busy.  It was not necessarily easy or fun, but I did it, and mostly successfully with a smile on my face.  I loved my major and both of my jobs.

One afternoon, a girl from my major, with whom I had taken multiple classes, walked up to my desk at work and said something along the lines of "Esther, I've decided that I need to get a job, because you are always so happy, and I'm just sure it's because you have this job."

Would you believe, friends, that I just looked at her and said "I think that's a great idea!"
My job, after all, was to connect students who wanted jobs with employers who wanted to hire them...

I didn't even say anything about the true source of joy in my life - Christ and his Helper within me.

When she left my office, I was devastated.  I knew I had missed out on a fantastically clear calling from the Lord.



To a certain extent, I still carry regret from that experience, but ever since that day, I have tried to live more with an open ear and eye on what the Lord would have me do.

I have tried to bring him into every conversation I have.

"Tried," of course, is the operative word here.  I fail more times than I succeed, but I am continually encouraged by the multiple scriptures which tell me that God is more powerful than I, and He will accomplish His purposes, whether or not I listen to every little command He gives.



But oh, the pay-off when I do listen.  He is a wonderfully giving and loving Father through our obedience, and even our disobedience.

The Upstairs Neighbor

All my growing up years, I said I would never live in an apartment.  My parents had never lived in apartments, so why should I ever need to? When you're 10, this kind of logic makes perfect sense.

Well, I made it through college without ever living in an apartment, but obviously I had good friends that lived in apartments.  And I heard nothing but bad from them about the noise from the neighbors.  All these friends lived on the first floor, so most of the noise they complained about came from above.

When I graduated college, I went to work at Camp Tejas.  I was still sticking to the childhood resolution of no apartment living - yay on-camp housing!  But then the CEO decided to start moving people off camp, and I was one of the first.  Turns out, moving off camp was a really great decision.

However, there was the small problem of the fact that there were not a lot of houses for rent anywhere near my price range.  I decided to go with an apartment, because that seemed like the most financially wise decision.  Also, the one I settled on was only 2 and a half years old, so surely it was well constructed enough that there wouldn't be any problem with noise.  The final determining factor was that the available unit was on the second floor in a 2-story complex - yay noise-free life!

Well, I did have a noise-free life for a little while, until we got new neighbors next door.  Turns out, that, if you do life one wall apart, you're going to hear each other - TV, fights, opening and closing of pantry doors, etc.  But I really got used to most of it.

Also, a friend of mine from work happened to be my downstairs neighbor, and one day he sort of jokingly told me I had to stop wearing my boots in the house. I had just gotten a new pair of cowboy boots (my first) and been wearing them a lot.  I started just wearing them into the door and taking them off immediately as soon as I got in the door.

However, that encounter made me a little more aware of my on noise-making capabilities.  It began to dawn on me that I must be a really annoying upstairs neighbor.

Guys, I'm a dropper by nature.  I drop things a lot - mostly on accident, but sometimes, I just drop things on purpose - my empty laundry basket, or my shoes, or what-have-you - instead of bending all the way down to set them down (I know, I know.  Super lazy of me.)

So I began to be a bit more thoughtful about the kind of noise I made.  Then they moved, and I got careless again.  In the time since they moved, I've had various short-term downstairs neighbors, none of which inspired me to be very respectful.  I'll spare you the tale of the ones I regularly stomped on the floor at.  Mostly I'm sparing you because I certainly could have conducted myself much more appropriately in that situation.
Those were the last neighbors before the ones who moved in yesterday.

As I said, I felt a little sheepish about the way I behaved with the last neighbors (not that they were angels, but, you know, I wasn't either.)  Therefore, when the new neighbors came yesterday, and I got the chance to meet them, I introduced myself and welcomed them, then I told them I wanted to apologize in advance because I'm a bit of a dropper, so there may be some noise from upstairs every once in a while.  They laughed and said it was fine, and apologized in advance for the fact that they have kids, so we may hear them.  I was totally fine with that, and everyone was happy.  We chatted for a little while longer, then I walked off.

Funnily enough, as I was walking away, I dropped my keys. We all laughed, and I picked them up, and went upstairs. And promptly started dropping things as usual.  You guys, it's embarrassing, the amount of things I drop on the floor.  I've tried to cut back on the purposeful dropping, but the accidental obviously continues.

Everybody will tell you about how terrible it is to have upstairs neighbors, but seriously, why doesn't anyone tell you how terrible it is to be that upstairs neighbor making all the noise?
I'm tiptoeing around my house and fumbling desperately to catch things when I drop them (probably making more noise than would happen if I just let them fall...)

I think I'm getting an upstairs-neighbor-guilt-complex, y'all.
I'm ready to be on the bottom floor and be on the receiving end of the noise; it's less stressful to be offended than to be the offender.

I would do it all over again if I could.

The first writing prompt in the Blogtember challenge was to write about where or what I come from.
First, lets just say that my cousin pretty much said it all last week with her Where I come From post.
Also?  I've already written this, and the end of this pretty much sums up what I call home.
If you want to see pictures of one of my many country homes, you can go here.
And these two poems say a lot about growing into who I am today, and what family means to me.

I'm big on being aware of your past, of knowing the building blocks of who you are today, and I think most of my poetry would tell you that.  I write almost exclusively personal poems dealing with my past - the good and the hard.

But sometimes, "where you come from" is not so distant in the past.  If you're like me, who you are today started about 5 years ago, and who you were then is someone that you hardly even know now.

I came to Camp Tejas in the Summer of 2008, hardly having any idea what I was in for.  Yes, I had learned all the facts about my job in my interview, and probably the words "Live, Serve, and Grow" were tossed around in that interview, but I had no idea just how much living, serving, and growing were going to happen in this place.

My first two summers - 2008 and 2009 - were filled to the brim with living and serving.
So much living.
And so much serving.
I was exhausted at the end of both, but so happy.  That living gave me the best friendships I could ever hope to have.
(The highlight of 2009? Meeting this girl, and knowing within the first five minutes that we were going to be friends forever.)

The growing, though, oh the growing.  That part is hard, and not always happy.  I am so glad we grow physically the most when we are tiny children and our memories are not fully developed enough to store that pain.  Growing emotionally is hard.  I can't imagine how hard growing physically is.

2010 was the year of growing - of fighting battles and learning there isn't always a clear winner.  Things aren't always as black and white as you think they are.

I stayed away from camp in 2011.  I realize now it was probably a mistaken effort to avoid more painful growth, but I also realize that it was a needed absence.  Without that absence, I wouldn't have returned after I graduated and become full-time in camping ministry.
Sidenote:  It's still weird to me to say "Oh, I work in camping ministry" like someone would say "Oh, I'm a banker" or something.

And if I thought 2010 was hard, I had no idea what was coming for me in 2012 and 2013.  I have fought more Apollyons than I thought existed in my life, and most of them stemming from unrefined parts of myself that I wish would just hide in dark corners, so I wouldn't have to chase them out.
But that's not the way it works in real life.  We have to fight those dark things out of the corners and into the open, or we will never grow.  We will never come from anything.

So, all that being said, I'm going to go ahead and cover the second writing prompt for Blogtember:

If you could take three months off from your current life and do anything in the world, what would you do?

First of all, when someone says three months, regardless of what they're talking about, my first thought is Summer - May to August - three little months in which so much happens.  I can't help it.  That is the 3-month time frame that my mind jumps to.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the thing I would really love, more than anything else in the world is to do Summer 2010 over again - to open up to all that growth that wanted so badly to happen, but had to wait; to more quickly welcome the me who would eventually come from that time.

I've never had a big desire to travel or do something crazy different with my life than what I'm doing now.  Sure, I have dreams, and I've been to some places, and I'll probably go to some more.  As a result of camp, I now have friends in Australia, Thailand, South Korea, South Africa, Kenya, Wales, and Ireland, for goodness' sake.  I feel like I will probably do some traveling in my time, but the thing I would actually spend my 3 months on without regretting a minute of it?
Washing dishes, and fixing bloody noses, and cleaning cabins, and laughing, and crying, and growing.

She's Alive, and She's Even Guest Posting!

It is now September, and woefully past the time when I should have picked this poor little blog back up out of the dust I left it in for the Summer.  But man, did this Summer require a doozy of a recovery time.
I sat back and looked at my life the other day, and realized that, just about every season since January of 2012 I've been doing new things and learning new aspects of Camping Ministry.  Summer was the same thing again.  This Fall retreat season is the first time that I know what I'm doing because I've done it before.
That's a whole lot of growing and stretching and learning to experience.  I have succeeded at things I never imagined myself capable of.
I've also failed miserably, and received much grace, for which I am so grateful.
For curiosity's sake, I just went back and read last year's coming-back-from-the-summer post.  Friends, I could say most of those things word for word about this year and they would be equally true.  Summer at camp is beautiful and fulfilling in a way that a relaxing vacation could never be, but it sure is hard.

That's all you're going to hear about that.  I'm going to pick this blog back up (sort of) like I never left off, with my first challenge!  I've decided to participate in the Blogtember challenge this month... and since I'm already a week late in hopping on this bandwagon, we'll just have to see how it goes.  First post - about where I come from - to come tomorrow!

Now, as some of you might suspect from the title of this post, I have another first going on as well - my first guest post!  My cousin, Kassie, texted me a little while back and asked if I would be interested in guest posting on her blog even though I hadn't posted on mine in a little while.

Guys, I've seen guest posts on other blogs and thought about how fantastic and exciting it would be if I ever got to do one, but that was always in terms of years and years from now when I actually have time to focus on blogging.  I was blown away and so incredibly honored that Kas would ask me to guest post for her.

Kassie and I have been friends from day one.  So many of my friends talk to me about how they don't really know their cousins or family members, and every time I have that conversation, I am so grateful to have the Kitchen family in my life.

From blowing out each other's birthday candles and wearing each other's clothes when we were tiny to Sushi and cupcake dates today, I wouldn't trade my friendship with Kas for anything.  So to have her admire my writing enough to want it on her blog was so encouraging.

What I would trade?  My entire wardrobe for hers any day...

A Buzzword Study

Christians have a lot of buzzwords, almost to the point where it's kind of hilarious. (Dare I say a little ridiculous?)  But, I have to say, some "buzz-words" really do strike a chord in my heart and express, quite well, what we're all about.

One of those words is community. Christians are called to live in community. If we really wanted to be like the early church, we would "all be together and have all things in common." (Acts 2:44)
That's a big calling, and one that I don't see a lot of people living out on the daily. I know I hardly ever live it out - maybe once or twice a year when I get a sudden urge to make dinner for my friends.

Living in community is a huge calling and one we're never going to excel at because, lets face it, we're humans and we're selfish, and we're sinful. That's never going to change.

God does give us times in our lives, though, where it's easier to do the community thing. I'm in one of those right now. Ironically, it started about the time I moved off camp.

When I lived on camp, I was literally living out the whole "they were all together" part of Acts 2:44. There were somewhere around 30 of us believers (including children) all living on the same piece of land (in separate houses, thankfully, but still...) and I rarely took advantage of the opportunity to "fellowship" (sorry, you know I had to fit that one in here somewhere) with the others. Yeah, we had monthly pot-lucks, but I left as soon as I was done eating, and yeah, I ate dinner at people's houses, but I was usually one of the first out the door and I never bothered to have people over to my house. I was totally ignoring the whole "they had all things in common" part.

But since I've moved off camp, I've found myself lingering longer and longer in the evenings and not rushing off. I've found myself being hyper-sensitive to the little evidences that we are a community, and, though we (I) may not always get it right, we do sometimes get it pretty close to right:

A few months ago, we (the ladies in the office) were discussing the menu for the day and Paul was working away, but still listening, apparently, because, when we named lunch, he practically jumped out of his chair with a gasp and an over-joyed (and perhaps over-dramatic?) "We're having Hawaiian Stack-ups?!"

We share meals together quite frequently. Also? We all know what Hawaiian Stack-ups are, even if we don't all love them as much as Paul apparently does.
We live in community - we have food in common.

A while back, I was walking past my car, which had been parked in the same spot in front of the office all day, around mid-afternoon, and noticed a styrofoam cup sitting on the back of it. I didn't have to think twice - before I even walked over to it, I knew it was a full cup of coffee that Mike had left there. A few hours later, I teased Mike - "hey, you left your coffee on my car." He replied "yeah, I realized that later on, but then I though 'ah, Esther will know its mine and she'll have thrown it away already.'"

We know we each have our own little quirks, but even better - we know each other well enough that we're okay with knowing that other people know our quirks.
We live in community - we have quirks in common.

This past Spring, I was privileged to be a part of the first "Community Group" I've ever been involved in.  All my growing up years, I went to a small church that definitely believed in community, but we are an unusual church.  We have a very specific purpose that has been laid on our hearts by God.  Maybe one day I'll write about it.

But, because of the fact that we have that purpose, we don't have many of the "bells and whistles" (beautiful bells and whistles, might I add) that characterize so many churches in our American Christian culture.

Being a part of that community group was a very eye-opening experience for me.  I realized that living in community is not at all easy or natural.  I had to work hard to make sure that I actually made it there, and I won't lie, there were nights when I didn't particularly want to make the 30-minute drive to get there, but I did, and it was so worth it!

In our community group, we shared stories, we invented ways to help others with our meager resources, we learned, we grew in our faith, and we walked with each other through difficult times.

Also?  We walked together through good times - through baptisms, lunches at Ramos, happy-baby-days, weird baby TV shows, and cook-outs.

That's the thing about Christian community - it's not reserved just for sitting in a circle and talking about Jesus and how to love Him more and how to be more like Him (although that's one of my favorite parts), it's really about sharing His gifts with each other and facing life together whether it requires laughter or tears...or both at the same time.

Sometimes

Sometimes people you love have unexpected health issues and surgeries as a result.
Sometimes one of your second-graders in Children's Church, the precious doe-eyed one with dimples and shaggy hair, sits against the wall, and when you go to check on him, he tells you he just wants to blow up all the supplies and burn the whole place down.
Sometimes the sun doesn't shine for days.
Sometimes it hits you that you might be single for the rest of your life and you have to fight Apollyon as a result.
Sometimes you cry and you don't know why.

But sometimes, oh friends
Sometimes you call your Mom and she already knows because she's been praying for you for the past three days so you don't have to explain anything and you can just listen to her voice for a little while.
Sometimes the wind is at your back and the sun is on your face as you jog next to a precious friend.
Sometimes you are unexpectedly in possession of a new (to you) car.
Sometimes your boss sets half an orange on your desk just because.
Sometimes you escort a nice Grandfatherly stranger to the Marmax on a golf cart because he has nothing better to do than to drive all the way out to camp to see if it's easier to fit 7 or 8 chairs around a round table, and for a minute, the two grandfathers you lost are right there beside you.
Sometimes a friend whom you haven't talked to in a while sends you just the words you need to hear.
Sometimes Orion comes out of hiding and reminds you again that you're not alone.

Today Was Sunny

The past five days or so have been possibly some of the worst I've had in many years, culminating with me crying in the office last night in front of my director and the CEO, both of whom I love and am incredibly comfortable with, but really, Esther?

(Sheesh, how about that for a crazy run-on?)

Okay, so maybe some of you have really good memories that stretch all the way back to the episode where Esther cries in the dentist's office.  And maybe those of you with the long memories are beginning to doubt all of this Esther-really-doesn't-ever-cry business that I keep trying to feed you.

But let me tell you, ask anybody outside of my family, and they have probably never seen me cry.

I mean ask anybody outside of my family other than the CEO of camp, my director, and my dentist...

I mean, seriously.  After the whole crying-in-the-dentist's-office experience, I felt like I was scarred for life.  I had no idea how that happened.  It was just like it came out of the middle of nowhere.

Also?  I'm pretty sure he was scarred for life as well.  I had an appointment last week, and he was about as nice as he could be.  I mean, talking to me like I was an emotionally fragile 5-year old kind of nice (which, come to think of it, is probably pretty much how he views me now).

And do you think he mentioned a single word about my wisdom teeth, which are all four still firmly lodged in my mouth?

No sir, he sure didn't.

In the office yesterday, it was the same way.  One minute, I'm talking like a normal person, the next moment, I'm sobbing.

Many times, I've expressed to people how frustrated I am with this crying-less-than-once-a-year way of "handling" my emotions, or rather this lack of emotional maturity and appropriateness.  So maybe this crying-at-the-drop-of-a-hat method of emotional expression is just a step on the journey to learning how to cry at appropriate times?

No, don't answer that.

One thing I did notice was that, aside from the real reasons for the emotional turmoil of the last several days, there was hardly any sunshine to be seen until yesterday afternoon.  Now, we all know that Esther does not do well with lack of sunshine (see item number 1), so maybe that had something to do with it.

Maybe I'll never know, and maybe that's okay, but I do know two things:

1. Currently I'm listening to Jack Johnson, Michael Franti, Bob Marley, Colbie Cailait, and Van Morrison, and if that doesn't cheer you up, you're probably not entirely human
2. Today was sunny

So, folks, I'm pretty sure Esther-who-doesn't-cry-all-the-time is well on her way back from wherever she ran away to.

Sick Day

In college, I always gave myself one day out of the semester on which to be sick.  I'd feel a bug of some sort coming on, and give it one day.  Just one day.  On that one day, I would literally lie in bed and do absolutely nothing until I felt better...all day if necessary.

This actually always worked out very well for me.  Maybe because I rarely get sick.
I do, however, tend to run my body into the ground.  I stay up late, eat on anything but a well-regulated schedule, and sleep with my hair wet more often than I should.  So, eventually, after several months of this sort of treatment, my body would say "Okay, Esther.  Enough is enough."

Turns out, after college, I still need about one sick day a semester, and today?  Today was sick day.
But this time, I didn't feel it coming.  It came out of the middle of nowhere - I jumped out of bed at 4am to go vomit (TMI? Sorry.) and went back to bed, and repeated the performance about three times before I realized this was actually happening and I was not going to be able to go to work today.
It was quite a bummer because I actually really like work.

But I actually really liked today too.  Today I:
drank yellow Gatorade
ate M&Ms (not too many, though)
also ate chicken noodle soup
got plenty of mail (my birthday and Sarah's graduation are both coming up soon)
watched National Treasure 2.

After all these good things, and feeling somewhat better, I debated the merits of going in to work incredibly late, but decided that, just like in college, I needed that one full sick day.

So I stayed here at home where I made Peppermint tea in the morning, using my new kettle, which I'm pretty much in love with.



And drank Chai Green tea out of my favorite mug in the evening.  By the way, if you haven't heard of Chai Green tea, please go hear of it immediately.  Regular Chai has never been something that I crave, but man, this Chai Green business is wonderful!



I put my Christmas Tree up a few weeks ago


I may or may not have shamelessly stolen (*ahem* borrowed *ahem*) it from the unused LOT stash...

And I have these HUGE Christmas lights (also borrowed) hanging all along my living room wall


Seriously, they're enormous.  I've started hanging Christmas and birthday cards between them, and one bulb is as long as the short side of your average rectangle Christmas card!

And, as I said in an email about Lights of Tejas the other day, I love Christmas probably slightly more than your average five-year-old, so my otherwise dreary day was quite cheerfully spent at home.

Stay tuned tomorrow for one of my favorite recipes!

A Quick Bit of Advice for Your Professional Life

If you're trying to get a job, don't set your phone to make your number simply say "blocked" when you call people about said job.

When you call said people and they don't answer (because their phone just says "Blocked"), leave them a voicemail.  10 bucks says they'll call back if you leave a voicemail, and 20 says they won't call back if you don't leave one.

Above all, if you don't leave a voicemail, calling them 8 times a day, beginning at 5:34 in the morning and ending at 10:01 at night is not going to make them call you back, much less answer.

That is all.

Regarding My Recent Absence

Well, I guess it's safe to say that I will never have anything like what you would call "regularly scheduled programming" on this poor little blog.  Sorry for the incredibly long absence. There's no real excuse, but here's what I've got . . .

Towards the end of the summer, I got the incredible opportunity to join one of my wonderful friends from camp on a vacation in Florida.

That's right.  Florida.  I was beyond excited.
Jennie and I had earned a week's worth of paid vacation over the summer to be spent in August or September.
It was perfect timing.
(Also, let's just step aside for a moment and observe how ridiculously grown-up it is of me to be earning paid vacation.)

We planned our vacation for the week after the Summer Staff all went home.
Apparently that wasn't perfect timing.

That also happened to be the week that Hurricane Isaac hit Florida.
After much drama and many days of dealing with airlines and hotels, Jennie and I transferred all of our reservations to the next week and made it to Florida.

It was the perfect "recovery time" from the summer.  The basic itinerary for every day there was as follows:

1) Sleep in as late as you want, then change straight into a swimsuit and eat breakfast/have coffee on the veranda while looking at this



Those three boats (or some variation thereof) were sitting still in the the water the entire time we were there.  One cab-driver told us they were waiting for permission to dock and would sometimes wait there for weeks at a time.

2)  Lay on the beach as long as you want and alternate between reading books and cooling off in the water



That book?  It's Bloom, by Kelle Hampton.  I bought it because a) I've been wanting to read it and b) I figured what better place to read it than on the beach in Florida? (She lives in Florida.)
I loved Bloom, but there was another book that I borrowed from a friend at the last minute before leaving for Florida that ended up being way better.  It was a collection of personal essays called Cold Tangerines and it was honestly so good that, by the third essay, I asked why in the world I couldn't have been the one to write it.  Really.  It was just so refreshing and real and hilarious and I could go on and on about it, but I won't.



And yes, that's me in the water.  You should be aware that I am somewhat (no, incredibly) terrified of sharks and that I have rarely, if ever, put my head under the water in the ocean, but I decided, on the last day of our vacation, to swim all the way out to that green portion of the ocean, which, by the way, doesn't look that far out, but was actually very far.  I had been spending a good portion of our vacation looking at the line between the green and blue in the ocean and wondering what happened at that line.  It took forever to swim out there and it turns out that what happened was exactly what I thought would happen - the floor of the ocean dropped suddenly and the water got waaaaaaaay colder.
I promptly freaked out and swam back to shore as quickly as I could.
I have to say though, I was rather proud of myself for getting all the way out there.

3)  Go to the porch when the rain comes and wait it out.  Eventually decide the rain won't go away, and go upstairs to get "dressed for dinner" just like in old-fashioned books and shows.
You see, in Florida, it rains every day at 3 in the afternoon.  I never wore a watch, but I always knew when it was 3pm because the rain would come and chase us to the veranda.  We "waited it out" on the veranda every afternoon we were there, but every afternoon, the rain lasted at least until sunset, so we'd eventually give up on waiting.



Mostly, the rain was just little drizzles and sprinkles, but that's not something you want to be on the beach in, so we'd use the rest of our afternoon to shower and get dressed in normal clothes to

4)  Go to dinner somewhere in town. (Sorry.  No pictures of this event)

5)  Watch the moon rise





Since we were on the East Coast in Ft. Lauderdale, we didn't have a sunset, but we got moonrises and sunrises.  Both were so beautiful!  I caught one moonrise and two sunrises.

The first sunrise I watched was the second full day we were there.  It was a stormy and cloudy one, but breath-taking nonetheless.  I sat on the beach, camera in hand capturing every part of the sunrise - every subtle change in light, every new cloud that appeared, every shade of blue-green-grey the ocean and sky went through - and ended up with a lot of pictures that looked like this:



or this:



All during the sunrise, the boats were covered by this giant mass of cloud and I couldn't help but wonder if they were even aware that the sunrise was happening.  It looked so dark where they were.



Then Jesus sent me such a sweet message in those clouds.  I looked away for a bit, and when I looked back, the sun had broken through and illuminated the boats.



It made me think of those times when you feel like everybody else's life is going well/making sense/coming together perfectly and yours isn't.  Then, suddenly, there's the thing you've been waiting for and who knows where it came from or how it got there, but there it is, plain as day.

After that, I went back upstairs and stepped out onto the balcony to see my boats one more time and somehow, in the time it had taken me to get upstairs, the storm had come, concealing all but the closest boat.



But it didn't touch the shore.  It just came to that boat and it reminded me of that place in Job where God asks "Who enclosed the sea with doors when, bursting forth, it went out from the womb; when I made a cloud its garment and thick darkness its swaddling band, and I placed boundaries on it and set a bolt and doors, and I said, 'Thus far you may come, but no farther; and here shall your proud waves stop'?  Have you ever in your life commanded the morning and caused the dawn to know its place, that it might take hold of the ends of the earth and the wicked be shaken out of it?" (Job 38:8-13)

The other sunrise I watched was on the last day - the one we were leaving.  I woke up not much before the sun and sat down in the sand, propped my camera on my knees and click, click, clicked until the sun had fully risen.  I got a lot of crooked horizons, but several good ones as well.





After the sunrise, I turned away to take pictures of the beach/waves/skyline behind me, then turned back to see this little sail-boat making it's slow and steady way toward the sun.  Sailboats always make me happy because they make me think of my Pop (my mom's dad), so that was a nice little present from Jesus.

He really out-did Himself that morning actually.



During that sunrise alone, I took 600 pictures.
I know.  That's crazy.  And, combined with all the other pictures I took during the vacation, it's taken me this long to get them all sorted out and decide which ones I wanted to include on my blog.
(Such a tough decision!)

If there's one thing I've learned from this vacation/absence, though, it's that I love having a blog, and I don't like to take long breaks from it.
Sooooo, you can bet the next time I come back from a vacation with almost a thousand pictures, I will not be waiting to post other things on the blog just because I don't want things to be out of order.

"Regularly scheduled programming" isn't all it's cracked up to be anyway.

Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish

Living and working at a Christian Campground has it's good and bad sides.  Sometimes living here makes you forget that there's a "real world" out there.  Sometimes it can be shocking to walk around in town and hear people cuss at each other or see violence.

Pause for a second.  This doesn't mean that I live in a perfect little world out here.  Sure, we're humans.  We hurt each other with our words sometimes and don't always make the best decisions, but we have Christ as our example of how to love each other through the hard things and it's difficult to leave camp and see that the rest of the world doesn't have that.

Working for a Christian organization has many benefits as well though, not the least of which is getting emails with the best closings and signatures.  For example, my office mate's - "Grace and Peace."  How wonderful is that?

I'm pretty sure I found my all-time favorite a few days ago - "Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish."

I think the reason I love it so much is that it is SO contrary to what the world would tell us to do.  I even had a negative reaction when I first saw it.  Who wants to be hungry and foolish?

No, really.  Think about it.



The answer is nobody.  We don't want to be hungry, but . . .

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied."  Matthew 5:6
"For HE satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul HE fills with good things."  Psalm 107:9



We don't want to be foolish, but . . .

"The foolishness of GOD is wiser than men, and the weakness of GOD is stronger than men.  For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth.  But GOD chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; GOD chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; GOD chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of GOD.  And because of HIM you are in CHRIST JESUS, who became to us wisdom from GOD, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, 'let the one who boasts, boast in the LORD.'"  1 Corinthians 1:25-31

The world tells us to combat things like hunger and foolishness.  If you're hungry, make yourself a healthy meal.
It will satisfy you.
If people see you as foolish, study harder.  Read a textbook to gain knowledge.  Get a college degree.
It will bring you glory.



I'm not advocating not eating or not getting a college degree.  I'm not even saying we shouldn't try to combat hunger and foolishness, but the fact is, even when you do make yourself that healthy meal, you're most likely going to be hungry four or five (or less if you're me) hours later.
The hunger doesn't go away.  It's your reminder that you need to keep meeting your body's needs.
Even when you complete that college degree, you'll still trip down the stairs sometimes or get tongue-tied and forget what you were trying to say in a voicemail for that important client and end up feeling foolish (take it from one who knows).
We human beings weren't made to receive or possess glory, though we strive for it.



I spend a lot of my life trying to meet needs like hunger or wants like approbation because those needs and wants are a familiar and constant nagging at the back of my heart and brain.
But do I feel spiritual hunger and foolishness?  Do I feel a desire, an insistent need for Christ and His Word in my life?
I feel like half the time I'm just reading my Bible because that's what I'm supposed to do.  God can use that in my life, I know, but how much more could He use it if I was hungry for it?  If I knew I was foolish and needed Him to be wise?
I want to be hungry - to need and want the thing I'm reaching for.



So stay hungry, my friends.  Stay foolish.

Transitioning

Familiar:
The gold ring I wear on my right hand and the crown of thorns on my left
My chaco tan-lines
Hazelnut in my coffee
My cream colored dresser
The blue puffy chairs and indoor/outdoor carpet of the Mission - If I close my eyes I see it clear as day
The smell of "Linger" in my Scentsy warmer

Unfamiliar:
Aspartame in my coffee
Purple polish on my toes
The ticking of the clock in my living area
My flowered couch - I think I need to slipcover it
Clothes washed with scented laundry detergent

There's something so comforting about familiarity . . .  and so disconcerting about things you're unfamiliar with.

The other night I had to go home in the pitch darkness and I was not about to walk around camp in the dark, so I took a golf cart.  A golf cart without lights.
The night I'm speaking of didn't have a moon worth mentioning, so I drove the whole way home with hardly any light.  I was struck by the fact that I naturally turned where I should to stay on the road the whole way home.

It was familiar.

I recently made the transition from one office to another on camp.  In the "Summer Camp Office" where I was all summer, I wore shorts and a t-shirt all day.  There was no point in wearing anything else because you never knew when you might be required to jump into a game or climb up a ladder or run somewhere to solve a problem.
I didn't mind because I knew it was temporary.
To make myself feel pretty, though (because who are we kidding?  I can't feel pretty in shorts and a t-shirt), I made it a point to wear jewelry every day.  But the only necklace I wore was a small chain with a tiny map of my hometown hanging from it because anything larger than that would have been foolishness indeed.
When I moved into the "Retreat Office," I started wearing familiar cute clothes and decided to dig into the rest of my jewelry again after my long break.
The first day I put on anything other than my map necklace, I felt like it was literally weighing me down.
We are not talking about a big chunky necklace here.  (We're talking about the necklace with the purple shirt in this post, which, by the way, makes me incredibly excited about fall being here and having the chance to wear all my office-y clothes again.)
The necklace I put on may not have been heavy, but halfway through the day I had to take it off because it was bothering me so much.

It was unfamiliar.

Eventually, my feet will be familiar in their untanned state, I'll be able to wear other necklaces, and I'll be comforted by the ticking of the clock.
For now, I'm in a state of transition in lots of areas and I'm okay with that.

Don't mind me.  I'm really just playing around with the bare bones of a poem here.

While I Was Gone

Man, I've missed this little space.  It feels good to be back.  I have to say, though, leaving for the summer was definitely a wise decision.

The summer.  Wow.  It's funny how, from the time you first learn the word even to the time you're earning a college degree, summer means freedom and escape - hammocks and beaches and picnics, you know?
Then you grow up and find out that the summer holds obligations and responsibilities just like any other time of the year.

Don't get me wrong here.  I loved my summer.  I treasured every day of it.  Well, maybe treasured is a little too strong of a word for every day, but it was a good summer.

Also?  It was a hard summer.  Frankly, the last three months were the hardest of my life - harder than any semester of my college career.  But hard doesn't necessarily mean bad.  This summer alone, I've learned so much about myself, my family, my Jesus, my heart, my friends.  I've been stretched beyond what I thought I could endure, and come through it all standing taller than before.



Remember last spring?  I thought I had grown so much then and now I've grown twice that much in confidence, though maybe not ability - I'm pretty sure all of my summer staffers knew I wasn't very adept at wielding any tool other than a screw driver or staple gun . . . and even those were probably sometimes doubtful.

It's strange to me that I've noticed this, but there's something different about the way I stand and walk and hold my head up, literally and figuratively, that wasn't there before.  It's seems the more responsibility placed on my shoulders, the more they straighten up.  I handled responsibilities on my own that I never knew I could.

I wasn't the only one growing this summer, though.  Baby came to work at camp for her first summer and it was a privilege/delight/blessing beyond words to watch her gain confidence in the beautiful young woman that we all know she is.  When I originally graduated from high school, I made the decision to go to college close to home and live with my parents for one reason - Baby.  Even at that young age, I knew she and I were similar.  We handle stress and friendships and life the same way.  I wanted to be around to help her through things that I had gone through.  Not to protect her, necessarily, but to be an example for her to follow - to let her learn from my mistakes because I didn't want her to make the same ones.

There was one thing, though, that was her own personal struggle - the thing between her and Jesus that I couldn't help her through.  She never knew she was beautiful.  Not that she thought she was ugly.  She just never saw the beauty that the rest of us saw in her.

I never struggled with self-confidence growing up.  I never thought I could win a beauty pageant, but I knew I was beautiful inside and out, so it was incredibly hard to watch Baby struggle through years when she probably didn't even fully know she was struggling.

Then this summer came and I watched her bloom under the influence of sunshine and hard work and good teaching and solid friendships.  She still has a long road ahead of her (don't we all?) but her eyes shine with a new light and that makes this far-away sister's heart happy.



I still remember my first (and second and third) summer, and all the growth I went through, so clearly, and it was beyond wonderful this year to watch that growth happening in the hearts of so many of our summer staff.  Baby was really just one of many that I watched bloom this summer.

This summer, my family came through the hardest trial we've ever faced and we're not out of it yet.  If there's one thing I've learned, it's that dark storms will come, but when we walk through them together, we come out stronger on the other side.


This storm rolled in suddenly as we were taking a walk around camp, our whole family together for the first time in eight months.  I didn't think of the beautiful symbol it was until weeks after I took the pictures.


Please forgive the blurriness. I just had to take a "family picture".

I have a new respect for Mom, Daddy, and both of my sisters.  That is all.

The thing, though, is that I know I couldn't stand as tall as I do now, Baby couldn't have her eyes opened to her own worth, and we certainly couldn't have come through our trials and faced our demons, collective and individual, this summer without help from One greater than ourselves.



Every good and perfect gift comes from the Father of lights and all glory goes to my Jesus for the changes and growth that happened in my life this summer.

Whew.  If you lasted to the end of this incredibly heavy post, I have a new respect for you as well.  And tomorrow I'll reward you with something lighter (maybe).

PS:  Are you missing My Life the Movie as much as I am?
Not that I have anything of that caliber coming up.  Sometimes, though, I just go back and read them to entertain myself.
That's all.  Good night!

Didn't I tell you I'd be back?

Well, here I am.

It's strange how something I've always really loved doing is hard after I've gotten out of the habit of it.
I'm not just talking about blogging.  This is about writing in general.  I haven't written any poems or essays lately either.  I've had countless ideas for blog posts or essays or poems, but I always told myself I didn't have the time to devote to actually writing them.
You know, people always tell you that you'll never have more time to do the things you love than you have right now.  I'm beginning to think they're right.
I probably should have just gone ahead and written.  It's hard now, sitting here staring at this old familiar box to think of anything to type into it.  I have a lot of pictures, just of pretty things that touched me this summer, but I don't have a lot of words right now.  Pictures will come in a huge photo-dump soon.

For now, know that the summer is almost over - we only have one more round of camp and then it's back to Retreat Season.  I'm in the process of moving into the retreat office here at camp to settle into my more permanent job.  People around here tell me I'm not going to get a break for a whole year - I was working on the Summer Camp side of things in the spring and summer (busiest times for Summer Camp) and now I am transitioning over to the Retreat side of things for the Fall which is the busiest retreat time.
But you know what?  I'm okay with that.  And not only that, I am happy.  There is no joy in life like that of knowing you're where God wants you to be.  I love my job working here, even if I don't really know what my new job entails yet.
Also?  I'm finally moving into a little apartment of my own.  I've been a nomad for the past 8 months and I cannot begin to tell you the satisfaction I feel at knowing that, in exactly one week, I'll be sleeping in my own little place.  Granted I'll still be a nomad because I'll only have it until next April, but I'm determined to make it a home and enjoy it while I have it.

Pictures to come as soon as I've moved in and gotten settled . . . And don't expect me around here again until then.

Believe it or not, I'm still alive

Well folks, it looks like this new life of mine doesn't leave much time for blogging.

And it's only going to get worse.

Actually, that depends on what you call "worse".  Personally I'm pretty excited about what's coming next.

Working at a Summer Camp, naturally I'm excited that summer is almost here.  When the camps arrive, this place comes alive with an energy and excitement that is just a pure joy.  Don't get me wrong.  There's still plenty of things about my job that stress me out.  It is a job and I am a human after all.  But I'm beyond excited about this summer, regardless of any stress that might befall me.

The bad news is that I've pretty much decided to shut down my blog for the summer.  It just seems to make sense because I'm going to be in between houses and I won't have much room in my schedule for anything other than camp stuff.  Plus, one of my favorite things about the summer is that it's an incredible chance to invest in other girls, something I'm very passionate about.  If I want to invest in the girls all around me, it just doesn't make sense for me to sit staring at a computer screen while they're right there.

So, I'll see you all on the other side of the summer!

Concerning Golf Carts

Before working at a camp, I never really thought that much about golf carts.

Now, they're a part of my everyday life.  There are several golf carts at camp and they each have a number.  And, I know it seems crazy, but each numbered golf cart has it's own personality.

Take, for example, The Phantom.  My first summer at camp was the same year all the golf carts arrived.  I was only summer staff, so I didn't have much to do with the golf carts.  I didn't pay too much attention to them, but at some point, Number Three began going by "The Phantom."  I don't know the story behind this nickname, but I'm pretty sure there is a story of some sort.  Somebody actually put vinyl letters below the number 3 that said The Phantom.

Recently, I was doing my laundry late into the night, as in later than one in the morning, so I was going back and forth through the same passage rather frequently.  The last time I walked through that passage (very late), The Phantom was there in the passage, plugged into an outlet and charging, next to a room where no one lives.  It hadn't been there before, so I jumped out of my skin when I saw it.  (Come to think of it, strange things tend to happen when I'm doing my laundry late at night.  Maybe I should change my laundry time.)


The next morning, I got up around 7:30.  The Phantom was already gone.

Nowadays, as full time staff, I frequently use a golf cart during the day if I need to run several errands around camp.  I almost never drive The Phantom.  Not because of the name; simply because The Phantom lists dramatically to the left and that gets rather annoying.  However, a few days after the laundry night incident, The Phantom was my only option other than my feet, so I took it.  After accomplishing a few things, I realized I had left something behind in my office, so I drove back, parked The Phantom in "the golf cart shed," and ran in my office.

I was in there maybe two minutes.  When I came back out, The Phantom was already gone.

Like I said, I almost never drive The Phantom, but I'm not picky.  I usually just run to the golf cart shed, hop in a cart that isn't The Phantom, and take off.  I never even look at the numbers, because you don't have to look.  If you just glance, you can tell which one is The Phantom because it leans so much.

Probably 9 times out of 10, I end up grabbing Number Five.  I don't know why.  I just do.  Out of any number of carts that may be in the shed, I almost always hop in that one.

You wanna know Number Five's quirk?  It beeps when it's in reverse.
It beeps in about four different tones, choosing randomly at it's own free will.

You wanna know my favorite tone?  (please sense the sarcasm here)  The one that sounds like a cat dying.  Something like "mrrraaaammp" (yeah, I should never try to be an onomatopoeia-spelling-inventor).  It's just an awful sound.

Number Five is a green golf cart (as is The Phantom).  I've started trying to only grab red golf carts.  We'll see how it works out.

Also?  I'm considering giving Number Five a new name - The Dying Cat.
Oh, you don't think it would be a good idea to get vinyl letters made?