Days Gone By

As many are aware, camp has ended, and I have begun my new job as a permanent substitute at Lincoln.

One might think that the extra sleep after camp made me feel good. But I might ask, "What extra sleep?"  As soon as camp ended, I began the next chapter of my life. Yet it is hard to really wrap up the ties of my previous chapter. I ended camp with a mixture of emotions. As Karl and I prepare to be married next August, RFKC would begin a week after our wedding day. We are not sure where we will be living, but before camp, I had honestly been considering taking a year off from camp. Both my campers graduated from the camp, so it seemed like the perfect time to do so because I would not be so committed to a pair of campers.

However, Karl worked with two young boys who seemed to adore both Karl and the entire staff.  After camp, instead of thinking about what chaos could be awaiting our return from a honeymoon, all I can think is, "How could I have possibly even considered that?" Remembering that God is in complete control of today, tomorrow, and next year is quite the comfort at times like these.

I surely appreciate God's plan involving getting a job locally. It has answered a lot of my prayers and not a moment too soon.  Although I am coming to respect Lincoln's history and devotion to education, in my heart of hearts, I am deeply missing the atmosphere of Beaver Falls. I never guessed that one day I would feel a deep longing to continue being a part of the community, but God always works in mysterious ways. Much of my college education was spent in the high school building, and while I realize that it is time for me to move on, I miss the warmth and familiarity of the staff and students.

However, it is comforting to think that the staff and students there have come to respect and care for me. It was certainly a learning experience that I will never forget.

Mommy for a Week

For the past five years, Karl and I have had the privilege of being involved with Royal Family Kids Camp (RFKC).  Although Karl has not been able to be a full-time counselor as much as he would have liked, he has always been there in some capacity, and I have been lucky enough to serve as a full-time counselor.

If you know me, you know this camp is dear to me.  It is one week of ministering to local abused and neglected children through songs, stories, meal times, and activities with counselors and staff members.  RFKC was founded by Wayne and Diane Tesch in California, and there are now 157 camps throughout the United States, as well as 27 international camps.

The very first camper that I was assigned is "graduating" from this camp this summer.  She broke all of our hearts with her shy smile and silence; so much was said without saying anything at all.  Although she speaks now, that little girl suffered.  And no one would believe the stories these children bear.  No one would believe the burden that the counselors and staff bear as they watch some of the children go to homes where they are not wanted--a place where free gifts are rejected because it is considered unnecessary junk, when all that is in the box are school supplies, clothing, and small toys.

One week may not sound like long enough, and in a sense, that is correct.  How could I possibly shower enough genuine love and attention on my two campers?  I go to the camp, drain myself emotionally and physically in a week, then come back home and continue leading my privileged life.

But I find that I've changed at the end of the week every year; for a week, I get to a be a mommy.  Not a "mother" and not a "mom."  To me, "mother" is what I say when I'm feeling annoyed, sarcastic, or silly, depending upon the tone.  "No mother, I didn't get a chance to do that," or "Yes mother, I will do that right away."  I also tend to use "mother" when she has not heard me say "mom" fifteen times before.  "Mom" is a word that I have come to use as I have grown.  When I made the transition from childhood to adolescence, I learned to use "mom." At camp, the campers are shy and scared on Monday.  However, the moment I see that I am making a difference is when they look up and ask if they can call me "mommy" for the rest of the week. They are asking me, with that request, to love them unconditionally.  With some campers, it is easy; others involve a lot more work and prayer.

So basically, I'm asking for prayers.  Lots and lots of prayers for the following:

• It's difficult to give 100 percent all day. Nap time is surely appreciated.
• It is even more difficult to focus entirely on the kids without thinking about their lives outside of camp.  Sometimes, anger and bitterness come into play, and those are not the attitudes that I should have.
• Prayers for the entire camp--staff members, kids, and counselors all around the world.
• Karl.  Emotionally and physically, I rely on him heavily as someone who can sense my moods without me talking.  Also, he has his own two campers to think about and pray about.
• That I remember that God's love is steadfast.  Sometimes I think that I've got to rely on my own strength alone...and that is far from the truth.

During training week every year, we listen to this story.  It is truly an encouragement and inspiration as we begin camp.

The Starfish Story

While walking along a beach, an elderly gentleman saw someone in the distance leaning down, picking something up and throwing it into the ocean.
As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, picking up starfish one by one and tossing each one gently back into the water.
He came closer still and called out, “Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?”
The young man paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean.”
The old man smiled, and said, “I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?”
To this, the young man replied, “The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them in, they’ll die.”
Upon hearing this, the elderly observer commented, “But, young man, do you not realise that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can’t possibly make a difference!”
The young man listened politely. Then he bent down, picked up another starfish, threw it into the back into the ocean past the breaking waves and said, “It made a difference for that one.”

If you are interested in becoming involved with the camp in some way, please visit Royal Family's official website to learn more.

I Promise I'm Not Narcissistic

 I've tried to blog before. All of my attempts were a bust. I'm hoping that, by making this more public, I'll be guilted or nagged into writing posts that are on somewhat interesting matter.  However, it wasn't just sheer laziness that kept me from blogging in the past.  The task in itself is a hard journey and requires both patience and interesting life details.  I find that those qualities are somewhat...elusive.

The following are problems with creating a blog:

• template choices and issues
• color choices
• technology issues
• distractions

And the biggest problem? A title and website link name!  Who knew that everyone and their brother thought of the same names as I did?  So what did I do?  The best fallback that there is in the world.  Google "poetry" and let the title reflect upon literature.  Plus, I figured that it would be fitting, considering the whole "English teacher" profession.

As I was browsing, I came upon a poem that I first read in high school.  I had forgotten the power of poetry, and more specifically, I had forgotten how Maya Angelou makes me feel like I can run a marathon.  So, before I proceed with defending the title of my blog, you should probably read this first.

Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

 Okay, so maybe I really don't feel like running a marathon.  But it does make want to gracefully walk about in a pair of red high heels.  Unfortunately, I lack both grace and red heels.  But Angelou infers that my inability to walk in a straight line without falling does not make me any less of a phenomenal woman.  And I was thinking about the women in my life-coworkers, family, friends-and they are all pretty phenomenal.  Teachers, mentors, mothers, wives, servants of Christ...all adjectives that I hope will describe me one day or describe me currently.  I'm hoping that this blog chronicles my steps to becoming all of these.

So, no, I'm not being entirely narcissistic.  I'm just hoping that living my life, loving people, and serving God make me a phenomenal woman without actually being any sort of phenom at all.