Anyway. Camp.
*breathes in, breathes out*
Let's see. Some of you might not know about camp. Camp Elohim is situated in the mountains *cough like everything around here cough*, away from all distractions like the Internet and family (yes, dears...you are distractions. I love you anyway) and tv and xbox etc. It is a week-long Bible camp, and thrown in are shooting, rafting, swimming, hiking, crafts, games, GREAT FOOD, etc.
I first went when I was in 4th grade, and I've been going ever since. This was my 9th and final year(I started late) as a camper. Now, with Elohim the focus is on God the whole time. There is chapel and class in the morning, and chapel and campfire in the evening. and singing. I think it's mostly the singing that does it, and the great teaching, but by the end of the week you feel closer to God than ever. I guess the term is "camp high".
So this is my 9th year. for the past...6 of those, probably, I've experienced the camp high. we learn amazing things, and get all ready to go face the world and be the best Christian ever, and by the time school arrives we've forgotten most, if not all, of what we've learned. The last 3 years or so I finally noticed what happened, and each year I'd rededicate my life to Christ and next year I'd come back pretty much the same. For the last year or so God's really been getting on my heart about finding someone, an accountability partner, to do life with. Last year I told myself I'd find someone, but I didn't.
Not this year, I said to myself as I signed the application, not this year. This year, God, I will take whatever You teach me and use it.
You will not believe what we learned that week. Yep, it was all about Paul's life, and how he was never alone. How he always had someone with him, helping him. A Barnabas, an encourager. I had to smile, you know? Just a little extra proof that there's a God, and He has a sense of humor. (See platypus)
So that was cool, and that was just Monday. Then Tuesday our cabin (and two of the boys' cabins) went rafting. Rafting, usually, means gently floating down the Kootenai River and pretending to be scared of the small amount of "big" waves they have. This year, due to the torrential downpour of a winter/spring/early summer we've had, the Kootenai is full and the dam is spilling a lot of water over the top just to keep Lake Koocanusa from overflowing--no floods, though, which is surprising--, and that meant we couldn't float the Kootenai.
Instead, we floated Bull River. Well, we were paddling and splashing each other--lots of fun, even though it doesn't sound like it to a water chicken like myself and I still haven't figured out how to splash with the paddle unlike JACOB MACABEE and most of the boys--and the river was so low we had to drag it across sandbars sometimes. It was fun. And hot. Tuesday was the hottest day we had, and we rafted. Oh, perfection hallelujah. (Hannah rafted on Thursday, which was not the hottest day. Hee)
Wednesday [it was slightly cooler and] we hiked the Trail of Tears. It's about...two miles?...of sheer uphillness, known to strike the most expert hiker to his knees from oxygen loss and dehydration. (I'm not really exaggerating, just kind of) The "first" part is the uphill part, and--oh, info needed. I have low blood sugar, which means I need to eat every meal and I burn off meals very easily. I'm also not very active--for lunch we had little wrap things that, in hindsight, weren't nearly enough for me. I was out of breath after the first five minutes. My counselor and one of the girls in my cabin stayed just ahead of me; they're so very nice. I discovered something: your heart is a muscle, just like your arms and legs. If you want it to be strong, you should exercise it. Suffice it to say I have not exercised my heart (or legs) that often. I burned off all my lunch, too, and had to survive on berries and honey. [I'm not kidding, either. I had to stop and eat a honey stick that I'd brought with me, and that just barely got my strength up and Jacob Macabee came back to check on us--me--and when we started going again I found a couple Oregon grapes and thimbleberries and Jacob found a huckleberry for me, which was very nice since I hadn't actually eaten a wild huckleberry ever before. *braces for shock from fellow Montanians*]
But then I found that we were almost there. Spiritual lesson to be learned: just when it gets the hardest is just when something will come along and you'll find out you were almost done anyway, and you'll feel an immense sense of accomplishment for not giving up. Also, that you can't do anything on your own. Remember how I said God was really pointing out the need for accountability partners? Well, that time they were Lindsey, Becka, honey, Jacob, and berries. In that order. Anyway.
The waterfall.
Oh, yeah: Camp Elohim rite of passage: sitting under the waterfall. The girl doing it now was from my cabin...Rambo. Or Laurabeth. She did it for a grand total of six minutes, which was the record that week until the day afterwards, when someone did it for ten minutes. The biggest record ever is half an hour.
I sat under the little one to the right for about one second.
I hiked up above the main part, which I hadn't ever done before--it's beautiful up there, and it looks like an elfin forest, with all the trees covered in moss and all the straight cedar trees all around--since it was my last year as a camper and I wanted to. I applied the same reasoning to the waterfall, and I almost sat under it (the big one), but I decided not to, convincing myself it was because I couldn't figure out where to sit. Oh well.
So that was Wednesday. Thursday it was even cooler, in fact I think it rained, but ha-HA! We were shooting and doing crafts, both of which were under cover. I did very well in shooting those 22's--the best out of the girl campers, a 77 out of 80--and the craft was fun, a scrapbook thingie. I devoted a whole page to my prize-winning target.
Thursday was also Family Night, in which the cabins introduce their family to their cabin and the cabin to the family and friends. And it is also the night in which the cabins perform skits for the attending family/friends/plus ones*. They were pretty good, with the usual mess-ups that only made it more perfect and voice overs from the plastic cone of awesomeness** and renditions of the Good Samaritan that had the priest owning a mad cow by the name of Angel Shirley Whompus. all good fun. I got to see my bestest friend*** and witness my four year old brother flirting with all the girls. I pity that kid's counselor already. And the camp director, Mr. Warren. And the other girls. I bet he'll have a blast at camp when it's his turn. Four years away, if I count correctly.
That Thursday quite a few people went home, what with sickness and work and other such stuff. It was kind of sad.
But that morning, we all were overjoyed--as in not--to hear what had become the camp theme song:
Way up in the sky, the big birdies fly,
and down in the nest, the little birds rest.
With a wing on the left, and a wing on the right,
the little birds sleep, all through the night.
The bright sun comes up, the dew goes away.
"Good morning! Good morning!" the little birds say.
{Optional ending:}
I jump out of bed, and open my window
and SMASH THAT BIRD'S HEAD!
Oh, that's just not the same unless you hear it. (see, "the dew goes away" is said in this macho voice, which makes the fact that the next line is said in a falsetto particularly funny.) Especially since the boys just loved that song to death. Literally. Coincedentally, I never heard or saw a bird that whole week.
Anyway. Friday. Friday is the sad day, it's when you know you'll have to go home the next day and you've only just now gotten to know your cabin mates and you wish camp lasted a whole 'nother week and Mr. Warren doesn't and you know a lot of you won't be coming back next year cause it's their last year as a camper and it's all very sad.
It's also the day in which we go to the lake. It was fun. Especially just floating around on these tubes we had. There were three little ones, and one big one. I think nine of us were on the three small tubes, and maybe ten or so were on the big one. The big one held those campers who liked to splash people, though. They were the Communists. We were the Allies. But we had a short truce at one point and when we were all grouped together it was a beautiful thing, almost our entire camp on black tubes of wonder. Well, looking back on it it was only half our camp. But hey. Beautiful thing of wonder and camaraderie.
We also got dragged around the lake by a boat. We were on this unsinkable floatable device, though, and Mrs. Cosgriff was under orders to not flip anybody. Except the last ride of the day, in which only the counselors went and she was allowed to try and flip them. But it was fun. I held one hand up in the air during the ride which was quite daredevil of me, if I do say so myself. (Yes, the other hand was holding on for dear life. Your point?)
That campfire, as per usual, was the best. The kids stood up and told what God had been doing in their lives that week. I stood up, too. Spoke about the accountability thing. It was amazing how many of us there were that had all experienced the camp high. Kind of like school, come to think of it. You labor through three years of Biology and Chemistry and Algebra and then they finally explain it the way they should have three years ago, because it finally makes sense. We all realized that our problem had been trying to go about the Christian life in the way it was not supposed to be gone about: alone. We also realized that technology was a beautiful thing and we could get ahold of each other very easily and it was a nice thing altogether.
And then Saturday, which is even sadder than Friday. You exchange addresses and get your shirt signed and hug each other and try not to cry and buy candy at the store and on the way home ease your sadness with chocolate. I love Rolos. Rolos remind me of Camp Elohim.
Anyway. that was a very long post too....Well, I think that's about it. Let me check for asterisks.
* Talking about you, Mitch.
** Seth (one of the guy counselors) is able to do cool things with his voice (like a cool Batman/Joker/evil guy/cool voice), and he was the voice of Jesus in the conversion of Saul. He had a great voice, this deep, drawn out voice like a masculine voice taped and then played back at half speed. It was great. He lost it towards the end (which was far longer than the boys in his cabin lasted and longer by far than the rest of the audience), but we all loved him anyway. Seth was the main perpetrator of the bird song. It's great, hearing the guys doing the falsetto.
*** I love you, Rachel! :)
so, I think that's it.
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