Wednesday, August 16, 2017
When you look at this picture, you see two people standing on the top of a mountain overlooking with a beautiful view of lakes down below. You may notice that I am wearing gloves. If you look even closer, you might notice crutches between my husband and I, resting on the rock.
What you don't see is the amount of pain and exhaustion I'm feeling while standing there, even after rest, water, and a healthy snack. You don't see the extreme struggle I went through to get to the top of the mountain, nor the number of times I wanted to give up, sure I'd never make it to the top. You don't see the pain in my knees, which I was told to get replaced twenty years ago; the agonizing spasming of my back due to damage already done by psoriatic arthritis and spondylitis; the suffocating ache in my chest from costochondritis; or the deep, deep emotions of this accomplishment. You don't see the amount of medication coursing through my veins that made this possible, nor the days of recuperation required afterward.
There are many people living with "invisible illnesses." I am one of them. Most people who see me walking without assistance or see photos of me standing at the top of mountains assume I'm able bodied. Not even those closest to me can really fathom the amount of pain I experience and exhaustion I face on a good day, nevermind a bad day. I have become expert at acting as if I'm not in pain. I can put a smile on my face and keep on moving through it most days.
What you don't see is the gratitude my illnesses that brought into my life, and how much my life has improved in many ways, even as I've become increasingly ill. I am thankful for each step I take; for my crutches and wheelchair that allow me more freedom than my own two legs do; for slowing down; for finding things I can do that feed my soul and energize me; and for the ability to let go of things that don't serve me and my family well; for pain and exhaustion that point my life in the right direction.
Tuesday, August 15, 2017
Why do people hate? Why do people do and say horrible, violent things?
And how do we not hate them in return?
When I look at photos from that night in Charlottesville, VA, it sends chills down my spine. It is evident that these people believe in what they are doing, the vitriol they are spewing. It's difficult not to feel rage when reading about what happened that night.
What I see is a mass of broken people - people who choose hate over love. People who think that they are superior because of skin color and belief system. People reduced to hate, because they think it's the only choice.
What do I tell my children about these people? What do I say? They can see everything I see. I need to show them what they don't see... people who, more than likely, feel hated or vulnerable more than loved or secure. People who have been fed righteous indignation in the form of racism and false beliefs until they believe it to their cores. People who are blind to God's love for all all ALL people. People loved deeply by the God they misunderstand so profoundly. People who need prayers ... and love ... and forgiveness.
Yes, more than anything these people at whom we want to scream, whom we want to hate, need love and forgiveness. We need to forgive to move forward, not condoning hate or hurtful actions, but praying for God to touch their hearts and show them love. We need to forgive to promote peace and show that we can love those with whom we don't agree, love them through their brokenness because we, too, are broken people. We need to forgive and to love so that we don't get to the point of allowing hate to rule our thoughts and our hearts. Hate isn't productive, it holds us back. Love compels us forward. We need to forgive because that's what God calls us to do. We need to let go of hate and let God be the judge.
And I tell my children to see the good. To see the college students holding their ground in the midst of it all. The people who come to others' aid. Those who can't physically be there, but lend their words, their talents, their spirits, and their support to those who can.
And then I ask what we can do to love against racism.
Tuesday, August 8, 2017
We spent 16 full days at Camp Calumet - from breakfast July 1 until breakfast July 17. Four children came with us - Alex stayed home. Zack went to a week of Resident Camp and then took the bus home. Haley and Alia stayed for two weeks of Resident Camp. Coren went to a week of Resident Camp, and then joined Jim and I at Family Camp. Jim and I had a week to ourselves at Family Camp during the first week.
Trying to sum up even one week at Camp Calumet in a blog post is nearly impossible -or would be impossibly long. So I'll let our friend give you an idea of how we spent our first week at Camp Calumet, Freedom, NH. Enjoy!
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
Trees rustled in the gentle breeze as notes wafted through the outdoor chapel. My heart burst to overflowing as I watched the sun dancing on the cross and sang, "no place I would rather be...than here in Your love, here in Your love..." It was difficult to believe that an entire two weeks before we sang the same song during our first worship of the Summer at Camp Calumet. Our time there was almost over. It was nearly time to leave the place for which my soul yearns every day I'm not there.
Our time there was full, well-spent. The bible studies in which I participated seemed tailor made for me - one on prayer, the other on hymns. We sang each day of each bible study. We shared personal experiences, growing in knowledge and faith as we explored God's Word in different ways. The hikes (on crutches), both the weekly hike and hiking on our own up Jackman's Ridge, the length of the Outer Limits trail and through the Pine Barrens, were physically, mentally, and emotionally challenging for me, but also uplifting and totally worth the pain. Great conversations with many people, ice cream socials, pontoon boat rides, relaxing and reading, swimming, tie dying, and Drama Camp's performance of Oliver Twist were among the highlights of our sixteen days at Camp.
What I miss most about our time there are the people ... Thomas, who took such good care of us at Family Camp; John, who always has a smile, a good story, and lots of patience; Patty, whose kindness, hospitality, and giving spirit brightened each day; and all the staff, family campers, and visitors with whom I interacted. And the atmosphere ... peace, friendly greetings, trees, lake, mountains, the nightly call of the whippoorwill, laughter, love, time set apart to live in community with faithful people.
There's no place on Earth that I'd rather be.