Last week I went to the Providence Hall annual retreat. Granted, I had secretly hoped when I rotated out of the role of youth pastor that I would be DONE with camp. I went to camp at least four times a year since 1984... yes, even my basic math skills tell me that I went to camp over 100 times... geesh. I've paid my dues, right?!
Regardless, last week I somehow found myself driving up San Marcos Pass in my 1997 dirty Subaru wagon with the bumper sticker "Junky Car Club" on the rear window, packed full with 4 students and all their luggage. After a stop at Cantwell's for Swedish Fish (naturally), we headed off. Despite temps hitting at least 90 degrees, we had to drive with the windows rolled down and the AC off because poor little Subie can't get up the hill with all that weight if the AC is on. Some things never change.
Yes, I still hate sleeping on a twin-sized bed with a plastic mattress and yes, a cabin full of girls swearing to me "we're gonna stay up all night talking!" is sort of torturous, but the conversations with them, the laughter, the time and space to really talk and listen and be with God is still awfully great. I am grudgingly grateful that God insists, on a regular basis, that I go past my self-imposed lines in the sand. This is what faith and selflessness and service and surprise is all about.
I won't ramble on with lots of stories... but these photos do a good job of capturing our time together. I am inordinately blessed.
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