Family Camp Weekend

Ever been camping? Way fun, right? (It's okay; you can disagree.) I love camping.

This weekend, I went on a wonderful "camping trip" with my church which involved plenty of people going home Friday night to sleep in their own beds. Wimps. I, however, slept on the rock-solid concrete in my sleeping bag, along with a good number of other families from my church. (Okay, so I'm a wimp too; I was in a perfectly safe building at the edge of Angeles National Forest.)

It was an incredibly fun experience, as well as an odd one. The trip is meant for families, but everyone is invited; I went alone. I do have a family, sure, but they're members of a different church, so everything I feel a little bit like an orphan when it comes to church. I only ended up going on the trip, really, because I had told so many people that I was going to go; I didn't want to hear, "How was camping?" and then have to explain why I was too lazy to go.

Prior to the trip, I only knew one person who was going, and he wasn't there when I got there. Everyone else there was a complete stranger to me, just as I was a complete stranger to them. Besides the check-in table at the front of our little campsite, my entrance was pretty much unnoticed. Parents were busy setting things up for the activities that were going to start, and kids were off running around. I'm, sadly, not the most outgoing person on the planet either, so I quietly asked a mom if there was anything I could do to help set up, but everything was pretty much under control. Basically, that just meant I stood around awkwardly, trying my best not to look awkward.

It only took a few minutes though, really, before I was talking to people. It wasn't like anyone was going to let me just stand around looking nervous. By the end of the first night, I'd made friends with some of the people there, and was definitely glad I'd made the decision to come. Even just those first few hours there reaffirmed my feelings that I really like this church; I've yet to meet someone there I don't like, and that's not even an exaggeration. Everyone is incredibly nice.

Saturday was even better. By Saturday morning, having slept on the same concrete floor as many of the other participants, I was definitely considered a part of the camp. After breakfast (and plenty of down time), we had a "scavenger hunt" which didn't actually involve much scavenging at all, other than scavenging for the numbered tables with activities to introduce everyone to a different church ministry. It was much more fun than I just made it sound with that description. It may just be out of my own love for kids, but I actually had loads of fun guiding and leading the kids in my team through all the activities.

I made friends with almost everyone there. Those I didn't befriend, I only missed befriending because there were just so many people for me to befriend, adults and kids alike. We wrote a song, had a talent show, saw a play, played games, talked, ate, relaxed, and enjoyed our time together up until it was at last time for everyone to go, we cleaned up, and that was that. (Yes, my car was the last to leave. Surprised?) It's over now, but I feel so much more like a part of the community at my church now that going alone seems so much less intimidating now. It was nice to connect.

Also: I met a 10-year-old and had a discussion on linguistics and the evolution of communication. Dead serious. Crazy, right?

Urgency

It's weird how certain things all seem to happen at the exact right moment. In my class last night (at my church), one of the speakers talked about a phone call she received at just the right moment and how, had she received the call at any other moment, she would have said no to the rector of my church's request for her to move all the way out here from North Carolina to serve in Pastoral Care here.

Last night's class came at the exact right moment for me. The whole course did, really. Yesterday, as I sat at the computer, trying to type up today's blog, my mind was consumed not with the usual obsessing over school and work (ha, "work") and band and all my usual day-to-day nonsense but with the idea that the moment was coming that my current routines would all end and I would have no choice but to leave. I always seem to be talking about and dreaming about all the things I'm going to change at the high school while working there, but yesterday, my mind was lost in the understanding that I would only be there a little while longer.

Class last night made me come to a realisation about something else we had talked about in a previous meeting: the sense of urgency that the church as a whole has. That day, we were talking about what we wanted to find in church, and I said I wanted to find peace and safety from the urgency of my every day life. At that time, I was overwhelmed; I needed refuge. It had been a horrible day, and so much going on had been stressing me out. Urgency was the last thing I wanted.

But I found the urgency last night. As we talked about those life-changing moments, about being called to begin a new chapter of our lives, I realised that the chapter I'm in right now will soon end. Suddenly, I began to feel urgent. I no longer have forever to take this theatre program and turn it into a force of nature; it has to be a force of nature now. Because who knows? I could be called to do something else at any moment, and I have to be ready.

I'm not ready. Not yet. But I have little time. Perhaps a year or two more, and then I will have to leave. I can feel that it is coming, and a new sense of urgency is filling inside me. I want to change this school, these kids, but I only have so much time to do it. Soon, my time will be up, and I will lose my chance to act.

I feel urgent. I am urgent.