A New Home, Church, and a Bit of Camp Wisdom
I'm home.
It feels different to associate that word with this place. This place holds no memories. This place holds few friends. This is not the house I grew up in. This is not the bedroom my mother and I (well, mostly mom) spent hours painting. I've never skinned my knees here; I've never spent hours playing Monopoly with my brothers here. This is not the room in which I've grieved, praised, grown and prayed.
Yet it could be. It's going to be.
I think the hardest part is that "home" isn't so much a place as people. That's what hurts so much; it's not that I'm 567 miles from a place, it's that I'm 567 miles away from these hearts that I cherish so much. I'm thankful, though, for the small ways I can bring these people with me. I'm thankful for the pictures that line my new bulletin board, filling my eyesight with images of those I love. I'm thankful for postcards in the mail. I'm thankful for the comforter on my bed, for even that reminds me of the IKEA trip with friends (and I'm even more thankful that Meghan persuaded me to buy it. I love it now). I'm thankful for the Dr. Who poster behind my head and the blanket in my drawer, both thoughtful presents from dear friends.
In that sense, home doesn't feel very far at all.
Skype helps, too.
Some moments are easier than others. Church this morning was hard. There was no Elizabeth to shout my name and give me a big hug; no Lauren to tell me about some new puppy she saw. Brayton and Josh weren't there to pray. Dagan wasn't there to rock out on his bass, nor was Evan there to despair over the electronic drum kit (though I mourned that aspect for him). I didn't have the chance to compliment Meghan on her outfit only to learn that she got the whole thing for $3.75 at Goodwill.
And it was equally hard and a bit weird to simply walk in and sit down. I didn't need to reset communion between services, clean up color crayons, or fix a slide on the PowerPoint. I didn't get the honor of praying with people or teaching my kids. When the service ended I just went home. No cables to wrap. No lights to turn off. No trailer to load.
I miss it.
I'm nervous, though, too. I must admit that I'm slightly terrified about my classes starting in the morning. My first class starts at 9 tomorrow (8 o'clock Wenatchee time). I'd really appreciate prayer!
I'm recognizing that these struggles are probably good for me, though. God's been teaching me a lot this summer about drawing closer to Him even when it's hard.
I really struggled at camp this past July. I found myself wrestling with inner questions, doubts, and problems that made speaking and leading really hard. If I'm being completely honest, I have to admit that I'm still struggling through some of the aftermath. Yet I can't be sad that it happened, nor can I sit here and wish that it had been easier. I feel like I grew- maybe not a lot, but it's making me go deeper into my faith in ways I haven't before. I found myself understanding James 1:2-4 on a whole new level. "Consider it a pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." I'm thankful for that. I'm thankful for growth.
Throughout the week I spent quite a bit of time talking to the director, Jack. As I mentioned the aspects of struggling that I appreciated- how I prayed more than I ever had before, how I found myself leaning on God for strength and words in ways I hadn't before- Jack said something that really resonated with me then and rings through my ears now. "I've never understood why people pray a 'hedge of protection' around someone," Jack said. "Protection is great, yes. But it's in the fray, when we're broken, that we grow more. If we never struggle we'll never be challenged, never grow."
So I'm grateful today for loneliness, for nervousness, for struggling, because I'm excited to see how I'll grow from it. I'm excited to see how this perseverance makes me more mature, a little more complete. And I'm trusting that though I'll probably mess up, Jesus can still work through that, too.
It feels different to associate that word with this place. This place holds no memories. This place holds few friends. This is not the house I grew up in. This is not the bedroom my mother and I (well, mostly mom) spent hours painting. I've never skinned my knees here; I've never spent hours playing Monopoly with my brothers here. This is not the room in which I've grieved, praised, grown and prayed.
Yet it could be. It's going to be.
I think the hardest part is that "home" isn't so much a place as people. That's what hurts so much; it's not that I'm 567 miles from a place, it's that I'm 567 miles away from these hearts that I cherish so much. I'm thankful, though, for the small ways I can bring these people with me. I'm thankful for the pictures that line my new bulletin board, filling my eyesight with images of those I love. I'm thankful for postcards in the mail. I'm thankful for the comforter on my bed, for even that reminds me of the IKEA trip with friends (and I'm even more thankful that Meghan persuaded me to buy it. I love it now). I'm thankful for the Dr. Who poster behind my head and the blanket in my drawer, both thoughtful presents from dear friends.
In that sense, home doesn't feel very far at all.
Skype helps, too.
Some moments are easier than others. Church this morning was hard. There was no Elizabeth to shout my name and give me a big hug; no Lauren to tell me about some new puppy she saw. Brayton and Josh weren't there to pray. Dagan wasn't there to rock out on his bass, nor was Evan there to despair over the electronic drum kit (though I mourned that aspect for him). I didn't have the chance to compliment Meghan on her outfit only to learn that she got the whole thing for $3.75 at Goodwill.
And it was equally hard and a bit weird to simply walk in and sit down. I didn't need to reset communion between services, clean up color crayons, or fix a slide on the PowerPoint. I didn't get the honor of praying with people or teaching my kids. When the service ended I just went home. No cables to wrap. No lights to turn off. No trailer to load.
I miss it.
I'm nervous, though, too. I must admit that I'm slightly terrified about my classes starting in the morning. My first class starts at 9 tomorrow (8 o'clock Wenatchee time). I'd really appreciate prayer!
I'm recognizing that these struggles are probably good for me, though. God's been teaching me a lot this summer about drawing closer to Him even when it's hard.
I really struggled at camp this past July. I found myself wrestling with inner questions, doubts, and problems that made speaking and leading really hard. If I'm being completely honest, I have to admit that I'm still struggling through some of the aftermath. Yet I can't be sad that it happened, nor can I sit here and wish that it had been easier. I feel like I grew- maybe not a lot, but it's making me go deeper into my faith in ways I haven't before. I found myself understanding James 1:2-4 on a whole new level. "Consider it a pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." I'm thankful for that. I'm thankful for growth.
Throughout the week I spent quite a bit of time talking to the director, Jack. As I mentioned the aspects of struggling that I appreciated- how I prayed more than I ever had before, how I found myself leaning on God for strength and words in ways I hadn't before- Jack said something that really resonated with me then and rings through my ears now. "I've never understood why people pray a 'hedge of protection' around someone," Jack said. "Protection is great, yes. But it's in the fray, when we're broken, that we grow more. If we never struggle we'll never be challenged, never grow."
So I'm grateful today for loneliness, for nervousness, for struggling, because I'm excited to see how I'll grow from it. I'm excited to see how this perseverance makes me more mature, a little more complete. And I'm trusting that though I'll probably mess up, Jesus can still work through that, too.
So proud of you my baby girl!! I miss you already. I know you will do great because you are a strong and incredible woman!!!
ReplyDeleteI definitely Understand what you're going through. I think God likes to shape us through suffering and waiting sometimes. Struggles can be a blessing. Praying for you.
ReplyDelete-Eric Moseley
Thanks for sharing your struggles at camp. Helps to know what our loved ones are dealing with. Being away from home is really tough. However, you can look forward to coming home for a visit.
ReplyDeleteOwen had his 6th birthday party yesterday at Eastmont Lanes. What treat for him and everyone there.
Bob F