Happy Maduation Day

I’m proud of my new word. Maduation Day is when you celebrate Mother's Day and Graduation on the same day. 

On our recent Iowa trip, I lie in bed and listen to birds sing and thank God for camp and its place in my children’s lives. Blue sky and sunshine coax me from bed.

My children have cooked a surprise Mother’s Day brunch. Between traveling and Rachel’s graduation, I have forgotten Mother’s Day.

They honor four mothers - me, a friend, and Rachel’s Mother and Grandmother. They serve our favorites:  fruit, Biscuits and Gravy, oatmeal, waffles, and deluxe scrambled eggs.

We eat this wonderful treat outside at picnic tables in the warm sun. We’ve never done this before since we’re always at church on Mother’s Day. This sweet gesture touches my heart.

Later I go with Rachel’s family to her graduation ceremony. We’re all very proud of her. The two-hour ceremony takes forever to get to “V.”

Rachel’s mother took these pictures.

Rachel and her brother Kyle

Afterwards Rachel suggests Culvers.  We discuss eating options until Rachel’s grandmother says that if Rachel wants to eat at Culvers, we should eat at Culvers. Rachel worked hard at school, not us. We’re happy that Culvers offers free Mother’s Day cones or custard cups.

Back at Andrew’s house, Kiah bakes “Black Bean Brownies.” I take one bite and cringe. “Yuck!” I complain.  “More sugar, less chocolate.”

“I already added sugar because the recipe didn’t have any. I like this amount of chocolate,” Kiah says. The recipe came from my Runner’s magazine. At least they’re healthy.”

I usually don’t criticize food but these are especially awful! 

Kiah, Rachel, and I take a walk. After twenty minutes of steady incline, Kiah turns to go further up.  (Pant, pant) “Girls,” I whine. (Pant, pant) “You asked to go on a walk, not climb a hill.” (Deep breath)

Kiah says, “This is a walk.”

I stop and shake my head. “This, is a hike."

"But you like to hike," Kiah reminds me.

"I know, but I had my mind geared for a walk, not a hike.” They humor me, but keep going and we finish the trail and “walk” back to camp.

We watch our new family video.  Andrew and Rachel love it and I see things we missed the first time. Halfway through the video, Kiah gets a brownie. When Andrew wants one, Rachel and I keep a straight face.

Andrew takes a big bite, then spits it out. He pulls brownie remnants from his mouth. “Kiah,” he sputters, “What’d you do?”

Kiah, Rachel, and I laugh. Kiah says, “They’re not that bad. I like them.”

“Well, I don’t.” Andrew wipes his mouth. “They’re terrible.”

When Andrew friends come over, Kiah offers brownies. Luke takes a bite and though his reaction is much more polite, he discreetly doesn’t eat more.

I read Kiah’s “brownie” recipe and see that they’re actually called “Adzuki Bars.” If she had called them Adzuki Bars, we wouldn’t know what to expect. But she said Brownies so we expected Brownies. They were most definitely not Brownies.”

Brunch and a pleasant family day have all been nice gifts but I still have one more to unwrap. Kiah and I go to bed and talk for two hours. It’s the best talk we’ve had in months. Our hearts connect for the first time in a long time. Two days ago she was messy, sassy Public Enemy #1. Tonight we are close friends. Moments like these are precious gifts.  

After Kiah and I finally stop giggling, I drift off to a contented sleep with a full emotional tank, having thoroughly enjoyed a satisfying Maduation Day.

The Road From Grumpy

We officially begin our 2012 Summer season by driving 280 miles to take four girls to camp – Kiah and Anna for three months, Amy and Lani for three weeks. 

I’m grumpy because the girls are messy, don’t like to clean, and wait until the last minute to pack.

I’m grumpy because only half my to-do list got done.

Truth be known, I’m probably most grumpy because even though the girls drive me crazy some days, I’m going to miss them.  

We drive Grandma’s car because it has things our van doesn’t – like better gas mileage, automatic windows, a working horn, cassette player, and cruise control.

Unfortunately Grandma’s trunk is smaller than our van’s storage area. I suggest packing light.

My blood pressure spikes as the girls traipse out of the house with a motley assortment of suitcases, duffel bags, Rubbermaid totes, backpacks, purses, pillows, sleeping bags, and blankets and I wonder what part about packing light they didn’t understand.

After Keith stuffs the trunk full, Kiah brings out a bag of groceries, a huge purse, and an Espresso machine!?!? She offers to hold extra stuff on her lap. I grumble that I don’t want her stuff on my half of the front seat.

I begrudgingly bring the Tracfone Keith bought me. I know I’m seriously behind the times, but I don’t want a cell phone. I don’t like being tracked down. I usually function fine without one.

We leave an hour late. Eight minutes down the road Anna discovers she forgot her wallet and drivers license. We drive back home, get the wallet, and continue our journey.

Anna drives for an hour. I ride in back, rather than sit up front with Kiah’s stuff. We change places at the Hayward Bakery.

I didn’t buy gas before leaving, because Ashland usually has the highest prices. Today Hayward’s gas is ten cents higher. I eye the fuel gauge and hope we have enough gas to reach Rice Lake. 

 
We listen to four Adventures in Odyssey cassettes I bought at Goodwill last week. No matter how old the kids are, they still love Odyssey tapes.

Amy chooses accent and gender for a borrowed GPS. Kiah quickly tires of the voice and mutes it.

I have Amy find Taco Bells with the GPS since the online Taco Bell locator is useless. My sense of fairness takes over and I can’t in good conscience automatically decree that we eat at Taco Bell. 

Anna wins my “Guess the Number” contest and chooses Subway. Pity the poor sandwich artists who wait on our indecisive bunch. I console myself, knowing I can stop at Taco Bell on the way home.

The gas gauge dips perilously close to empty. I take the nearest exit, praying for a gas station. I try not to panic but there's not a gas station in sight. Amy checks the muted GPS and finds one three miles further south. Gas is five cents cheaper than Ashland and I fill the tank.

Western Wisconsin is beautiful. (Eastern Wisconsin might be too but I haven’t been there so can’t vouch for it’s beauty.) I am soothed by bright blue sky and hillsides covered in vibrant spring green. When I swerve, Kiah, the front seat hog, says to watch the road and not the scenery.

 

We stop at La Crosse's mall and I am irritated by larger than life Victoria’s Secret window displays (don’t get me started) and traumatized by swimsuit shopping for Amy and Lani. Gone are the days of ordering sensible, modest, inexpensive suits off Ebay. Hello to hours spent combing through swimsuit displays, praying for one modest, inexpensive suit that pleases both parent and teenaged child. We find one that is 4/5ths suitable, but we're out of time so we take it.

When it's time to go, my cell phone tracks down missing family members. Kiah bought shoes, and since the trunk is stuffed, she sweet talks Lani into holding a big orange Nike shoe box on her lap for the last hour of the trip.

I call Keith who has tracked our whereabouts by debit card purchases appearing on our online bank statement. He says, “I see you’ve been to the Hayward bakery, Subway, Sears, and bought gas.”  If he wasn’t my husband, that would be creepy.

We arrive at camp and I am overjoyed to see my boy. My heart swells when he walks over and says, “Hi Ma!” and gives me a big hug. We haven't seen him since Christmas. I’m glad he enjoys his job and it’s fun seeing him grow up, but we miss him. A lot.

It’s good to see Rachel and her family and friends who have gathered to celebrate her college graduation from UW-La Crosse.

We eat Mexican food, which makes up for missing Taco Bell. The weather is wonderful and we eat on picnic benches in their front yard. Camp is peaceful, green, and pretty.

Me, Kiah, and Anna

My Boy

Rachel and her cousin

Amy and friend

We recruit Rachel’s brother and friends to play six games of volleyball. 

The games get competitive.  

Andrew and Rachel

Kiah is intense and sometimes hogs the ball

so it’s nice that she’s on the other team. 

Rachel, Kiah, and Anna

I’m glad to be on Andrew’s team since it hurts to receive his hard serves and spikes. It's fun that we enjoy playing volleyball together. 

Lani, Anna, and Kiah

We stay up late either talking, watching TV basketball, or playing games. I enjoy talking to Rachel’s aunt, until we notice that it’s 1:00 am, and everyone else has gone to bed. We’re the last ones up.

I left Ashland this morning grumpy and stressed, and now squeeze into bed besides a sleeping Kiah who is taking more than her share of the bed, happy and thankful for a food, family, and fun-filled day. 

Up, Up, and Away

Lani

The camp where Andrew and Rachel work has a deluxe trampoline system. Flying through the air is not my kind of thing but kids love it. 

I'm not that daring. Daring for me is ordering something besides a Chicken Burrito at Taco Bell.

Andrew puts Rachel's cousin in the harness.

 Rachel's other cousin working up the nerve. 

Still not too sure.

She likes it.

Amy's turn

 Amy is part monkey

Rachel's still young enough to do this. 

She says the harness hurts 

more now that she's older.

For years the kids have asked for a trampoline. For years we have refused. They make me nervous! They can use other people's trampolines but I don't want one in our yard. Besides, if we had one, they'd soon get tired of it and it wouldn't be a treat any more. 

In the meantime, camp's trampoline is a lot of fun. Or so I'm told. (I wouldn't know from personal experience, but I'm more than willing to take their word for it.)

Erica

 Thanks Andrew and Rachel for this vertigo inducing fun. 

Aged Regret

Certain songs yank me back. 

Singing “Just a Closer Walk” in church recently took me back to Mt. Gilead Bible camp when I was fourteen, young, and stupid.

We’d had a bumpy week. By we, I mean Dana, the queen bee, and me and four friends, her loyal entourage.

Dana was pretty, thin, and funny. If she considered something funny, we did too. If she thought something was gross, we did too. Her suggestions always seemed like a good idea. She was comfortable leading and we were comfortable following.

My family moved alot. Being shy and insecure, I hated starting new schools every couple years. After living in the area a year I was elated to have friends to call my own. I finally felt like I fit in.

We didn’t like our camp counselor and rudely named her “The Hag.” Everyone else had college students for counselors. We had someone’s mother. Good grief. What could she possibly know about teenage girls?

We avoided our counselor and resisted her overtures. We rolled our eyes and giggled and whispered through devotions. We made snide remarks and dragged our feet.  

We griped about her to whoever would listen. One night we complained to a girl in the bathroom. Tight-lipped, she snapped, “That’s my mother,” and walked out the door.

Our rustic tent cabins had wood floors and half walls topped with a canvas cover. We rolled the sides up during the day for light and fresh air, and down at night for privacy and warmth. 

Not my cabin, but the closest I could find on Google Images

We got the bright idea to take the tarp off our cabin. Immensely pleased with our daring and creativity, we hid the evidence and ran off to join the afternoon camp activities.

The powers-that-be were not amused. The camp director sternly chewed us out. Seems it’s not easy to put tarps on cabins, especially in the blistering California summer afternoon heat. Since the maintenance men had to do it for us, our punishment was to help the maintenance men.

We shoveled wood chips in the heat of the day, repeatedly filling a wheelbarrow from a wood chip pile and spreading them on an outdoor volleyball court.

Two hours later we were hot, tired, and SORRY.  Finally heeding our consciences and sobered by the fear of our parents finding out, Dana decided we were wrong. She decided “The Hag” wasn’t so bad after all and said we hadn’t treated Judy (her real name) right.

We apologized to Judy. Dana suggested we sing a special number during chapel to show that we had truly repented. She played the guitar and we sang “Just a Closer Walk With Thee” in front of the whole camp.

I was sorry then but I’m even sorrier now.

I’m sorry that I didn’t understand adolescent insecurity. I had no idea other teens felt as awkward and unsure as I did.  

I’m sorry that I yielded to peer pressure. On my own I would never have damaged the cabin. I wouldn’t have disliked Judy or been rude and uncooperative. I also would not have sung in front of people. But in wanting to fit in, I did things I didn’t normally do.

I don’t blame Dana. She didn’t make me follow. I had a mind of my own. I chose to be influenced. I had willingly contributed to our fiasco and I had just as willingly repented. But true repentance is personal, not something decreed by your leader.

I’m sorry there’s no way as an adult to apologize to Judy. I counseled for four years and had my share of uncooperative campers. As a parent, I’ve dealt with uncooperative children. I’ve been paid back. I’ve walked in her shoes and I forever regret giving her a hard time.

I’m sorry that I didn’t understand shame. For years I couldn’t look the camp director in the face because I assumed he thought me rebellious and immature. I couldn't fathom that when we asked him to forgive us, he did. 

I’m sorry that I didn’t learn my lesson. Though I repented in this incident, the war for my teenage soul had not been won yet. I succumbed to peer pressure on other occasions. I tested the waters, sliding in tiny increments, and hung over the line pretty far before digging my heels in and finally making a stand.

Just like my friends influenced me to help take the tarp off, I let myself be swayed many times by friends, classmates, books, music, and movies. I threw off that which was designed to shelter and protect me. I questioned and rejected God’s control of my life.  The casting off of things I knew to be right led to pain and life-long regret.

I toyed with doing good things and I toyed with doing bad things. I waffled for five years before deciding at age nineteen that my faith was my own, not my parent’s, not some Queen Bee’s, not my Sunday School teachers, and I wanted to live for God and do the right things.

Every time I hear “Just a Closer Walk” it all floods back. Shame. Regret. Remorse.  

God forgave me at fourteen and every year since. He does not see me as young and immature. He sees me as beautiful and beloved. He forgave all my sins, even the young stupid ones, so I don’t need to decades later feel pangs of regret every time I hear that song.

Because the song is just as true today as it was then.

I am weak, but Thou art strong;
Jesus, keep me from all wrong;
I’ll be satisfied as long
As I walk, let me walk close to Thee.

Thirty-eight years later I’m still learning to walk close to Thee.

Let it be, dear Lord, let it be. 

I'm linking up with Shanda at A Pause on the Path for On Your Heart Tuesday,
Kasey at These Five of Mine Plus Two for A Handful of Heart

and Jennifer at Getting Down With Jesus

 

A VCBC Summer by Erica

After over two months of being away from home, it's weird to go from reading this blog from afar, to writing a blog post from the comfort of my own home.

That's not to say I didn't enjoy my time away from home, matter of fact, I loved my many weeks at camp this summer. That's what this blog post is about after all!

To start off, a little explanation. I spent my summer at Village Creek Bible Camp (or just VCBC)  as head lifeguard. I had a great team of lifeguards to hang out with, including my dear little sister Anna.

The Summer Theme was Frontier, hence the wonderful old time pictures 

(Andrew, Andi, Chrissy and Jay - some of the lifeguards I worked with this summer)

The summer was full of great speakers, wonderful God moments, and more often than not, crazy fun activities. Much of my camp experience was centered around the lake and the dishroom! Being a lifeguard we had to report to the dishroom at 7:15 every morning for breakfast dishes.  Being the great dishwashers we are, we got through dishes pretty fast and had the rest of the morning for free time. Then after lunch we hiked up to the lake to well, lifeguard! All afternoon would be spent up at the lake.

 (Anna and Kim at the lakefront)

In between turns on the lifeguard stand we hung out in the Guard shack and did safe, mother-approved things like burning hand sanitizer and catching mice in ice cream containers. A favorite thing was the Guard Snacks we kept at the lake. We had an abundant supply of Freezees and Chocolate Animal Crackers all summer long. 

A great thing about camp is the unique opportunities one gets to enjoy. 

(Many fun camp people "raving")

For example the lifeguards hosted a Rave in the Guard shack. We used high powered black lights, a couple strobe lights and pumped some German techno. It was exhausting and totally fun. 

 (Erica, Anna, Kate and Elizabeth)

During a weekend day off, a hipster weekend was hosted. We hit up the local Goodwill, found some great outfits and had a great time. A bonus was that we accidentally went to a Nordic Fest! It was fun to rediscover some of my heritage. (25% Norwegian) 

 (Kate, Elizabeth, Aaron, Jonathan, Kaylee, Anna, Erica, Nathan and Ben)

During one of my last weekends we decided to get up and watch the sunrise. The main problem being that the sun rises at 5:53! But we dragged ourselves out of bed and up to the lake for a morning swim and a beautiful sunrise. 

(Ehh, Way to many to list!)

Somewhere along the line, someone had the crazy idea of a huge group date. We all got dressed up and went to Lacrosse for dinner at China Star (the guys paid :) and Riverfest. It was a fun evening and Jay (middle front) outdressed us all in a tux. 

My main reason for this blog post is to encourage you, go to camp or send your kids to camp! Growing up, camp played such a great, influential role in revitalizing and strengthening my faith. It was great to find a community of kids my age and of my same faith. Even if you think you're too old to go to camp, there's always a way! VCBC offers Family Camps, which are a fantastic opportunity for entire families to experience camp together. (Follow this link to check out Village Creek's great camps.  http://villagecreek.net )

Even better than attending camp (in my humble opinion) is working at a summer camp. Yes, I know, I'm a little biased but it really is a great experience. I've learned so much about work ethics, living in a community and developing healthy friendships at camp. I've been challenged and I've grown so close to God throughout my times at Camp. As a counselor and as a lifeguard I've been able to pour into campers and other staff and feel the happiness that comes from being a help to others. Camp has a way of changing people, and it's always for the better. 

So find a camp that works for you. I've worked at two different camps in my short lifetime and found them to be almost polar opposites, but equally amazing in their impact. Find a camp that caters to your style, one could be more outdoorsy, another could be much more of a suburban experience. Either way, find somewhere that allows you to explore your walk with God in a positive setting.

A Summer Situation

My kids have a bad habit of leaving every summer. Much of it is my fault, since I loved camp so much when I was young, we made sure our kids went to camp. Since I loved camp counseling I encouraged our kids to counsel when they got older.

I'm happy they enjoy camp and are willing to spend their summers serving others, but three months is a long time, Erica. Sniff! Sniff! Miss you lots sweetie! Hope you have a wonderful summer. Be blessed and be a blessing.