Have you had an event recently that you've looked forward to so much that you've talked about it endlessly to anyone who would listen? One where you have reminisced and shared memories with fellow attendees on facebook, memories that may or may not have included viewing ridiculous photos and completing song lyrics from back in the day? An event that you have imagined and felt downright giddy over every time you think about it actually happening?
Well, that's kinda how I'm feeling today.
Because tomorrow is the day.
Once upon a time, 1972 to be precise, my sister and I spent a week at a Christian camp for girls situated on a little river in the northeastern corner of Maryland. I couldn't know then, the role that little camp would play in my growing up years but I've got 20/20 vision now. I went back to that camp as a camper for three summers and then joined their counselor training program which was another three summers, and then worked as a counselor for three summers.
Nine summers.
Ages 12-20.
Those are formative years, aren't they?
I'm pretty sure when I worked as a counselor I was paid $50 a week, $35 when I was a 'relief chief'. Oh, and room and board too which consisted of an un-air conditioned cabin and a latrine style bathroom that had to be navigated in the pitch blackness and which I had to clean on occasion. The showers had to be surveyed for spiders and other creepy crawlies before stepping your flip flopped foot inside because good heavens, you'd never step in there barefoot.
No blow dryers, no cell phones, no television.
I so appreciate the fact that my parents recognized the value of camp and allowed me to work at a job that paid $50 a week when I was a college student spending more than that. ahem.They saw that camp was good for me in every single way...physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
I haven't set foot on that campground or seen the people who filled the spaces of those long ago summers since 1980.
Tomorrow is the day.
A reunion of former staff, organized some thirty years after I packed my trunk and took a last lingering look at the waterfront...
thirty years since I sat on a hard wooden bench in a chapel in the woods and sang Come to the Water...since I stood on the bluff and drank bug juice in the dining hall...
thirty years since I helped girls make candles in the sand, memorize a bible verse and flip a canoe...
three decades since I made weekly calls to my parents from a pay phone outside the camp office, cooked rice krispie treats in a No 10 can over a fire I'd helped build or slept in a bunk bed with a mosquito buzzing in my ear...
thirty + years since I had morning devotions under the shade of big ole' tree, slid under a cabin to avoid capture in a counselor hunt, leapt from a high dive to the cheers of 'my campers', brushed my teeth in a trough, or ran to 'capture the flag'...
thirty years since I talked long into the night about the meaning of life, our place in this world, and how God has a plan...thirty years since I've been in a place called 'camp'
And tomorrow...
I am there.