After a week of pain, craziness, lots of children running around, tons of last-minute packing, and a huge dose of Remicade, we finally arrived on the shores of Lake Ossipee in Freedom, NH. Home. Camp Calumet.
Mist blanketed the lake, grey skies meeting calm waters. The excitement I felt as we traveled dissipated in one huge sigh of relief and contentment. This is exactly where I needed to be - listening to the sound of water lapping on shore, breathing in fresh New Hampshire air, watching children dive into all the good things life at Calumet offers. Tranquil. Centered. Relaxed. Instantly.
Watching my kids play in sand and water, burying my feet in the sand, a smile crept across my face as I realized that my mental to-do list contained only good things: setting up our campsite, figuring out what time the next day we would be dropping off kids at Resident Camp, and planning out our activities for the week. Now that's vacation.
Only one dark cloud loomed over our day - and it a was a big cloud at that. Our older cat, Garci, had passed away just hours before we left for Camp. Concern for how our children would handle this loss amidst the camp fun weighed heavily on my heart.
But sitting there in that moment, even that worry vanished. Not even the threat of rain could rattle my calm or dampen my spirit. Closing my eyes, I listened to the song of my children's laughter and God's whispered reminder to let loose my troubles and embrace the day.