Last week was a whirlwind!
Our numbers at camp were the highest they've been all summer: 57 students...
Can you imagine? 57 young boys running around camp; smiling, laughing, fighting, crying, cuddling, goofing off...I don't know if you can. The other female counselors and I felt like moms, real ones. Our hours of sleep were cut, even though we were just support staff. We gave 57 hugs each morning, 57 hugs each night, and more in between. We helped each boy in his turn, each team as they came to us. There was nothing we couldn't do for them.
I was struck this week by the incredible thirst these boys had for love. A few weeks ago, during another boys week, I was shocked to see that they shrunk from all forms of human contact - especially hugs. But last week was different: these boys couldn't get enough.
There is little I can say about last week, no specific story that pops out in my mind. But I want each of you to see that there is a need here in our community. There are young boys going without a father's guidance, going without a mother's love and affection.
Will you come beside my team and I and give it to them? We all leave for our respective colleges soon - but these kids will still be here needing love. Will you step in and allow God to change lives through you?
I can promise you this - the life he changes most will be your own.
Keeping you in prayers
- Bekah S.
7/28/2014
7/21/2014
Crossing Emotional Lines
It's been a long time since I've actually been emotional enough to cry for a whole weekend. But I'm telling you this last week messed with my heart. Now, don't get me wrong, I've loved and cared for all the girls I've had each week - but there was something about Rock Island Elementary that just broke me down.
I think the best way to share with you what I mean is by telling you J's story.
Back up to the summer of 2013: it was J's first year at camp. She was shy - really shy - and totally introverted. If she was addressed in public or in private she would stare blankly ahead and pretend as though she didn't hear the question.
And that's exactly how it was on Monday. J was quiet, and didn't really get involved with the girls, she played her role but no more.
Tuesday I caught her laughing at some jokes I was telling the girls - it put a small smile on my face to see her engaging.
Wednesday she was answering my questions of "How are you?" and "What's been the best part of camp?"
Thursday she ran to the front of the pack and held my hand. She looked up at me and said, "Is today we going fishing?" I smiled as I told her "Yes ma'am" and her face lit up.
That night was the big sleep over when we gather all the girls in to the Big Room of the lodge, flick on some movies, and pull out the blankets and pillows. She didn't have any body next to her, and waved me over. We shared my body pillow as she hadn't brought a pillow of her own. And just before the movie turned on, she leaned over to me and whispered "I don't want to go home tomorrow - I want to stay here."
Friday morning came, and I had already put J on the bus, but as I passed by a second time she was off it - trying to sneak away.
"J, honey, you have to get back on the bus. It's time to go home."
She reached out for me and wrapped me up in her little arms saying, "I don't want to go. I want to stay here with you. I miss you already."
I hugged her back, and walked her onto the bus. But before we made it two feet, she began crying. Her tears pushed me over the emotional line I had unknowingly drawn early this summer, and I began crying. The girls on the bus met me with more tears and "I'll miss you's" and my heart simply broke.
A week wasn't long enough for me to give them all the love I wanted to, but a week was all I had. And a week was all it took for J's heart to feel safe and secure and open enough to reach out and hug me first.
Keep my girls in your prayers; they will always be heavy on my heart.
I think the best way to share with you what I mean is by telling you J's story.
Back up to the summer of 2013: it was J's first year at camp. She was shy - really shy - and totally introverted. If she was addressed in public or in private she would stare blankly ahead and pretend as though she didn't hear the question.
And that's exactly how it was on Monday. J was quiet, and didn't really get involved with the girls, she played her role but no more.
Tuesday I caught her laughing at some jokes I was telling the girls - it put a small smile on my face to see her engaging.
Wednesday she was answering my questions of "How are you?" and "What's been the best part of camp?"
Thursday she ran to the front of the pack and held my hand. She looked up at me and said, "Is today we going fishing?" I smiled as I told her "Yes ma'am" and her face lit up.
That night was the big sleep over when we gather all the girls in to the Big Room of the lodge, flick on some movies, and pull out the blankets and pillows. She didn't have any body next to her, and waved me over. We shared my body pillow as she hadn't brought a pillow of her own. And just before the movie turned on, she leaned over to me and whispered "I don't want to go home tomorrow - I want to stay here."
Friday morning came, and I had already put J on the bus, but as I passed by a second time she was off it - trying to sneak away.
"J, honey, you have to get back on the bus. It's time to go home."
She reached out for me and wrapped me up in her little arms saying, "I don't want to go. I want to stay here with you. I miss you already."
I hugged her back, and walked her onto the bus. But before we made it two feet, she began crying. Her tears pushed me over the emotional line I had unknowingly drawn early this summer, and I began crying. The girls on the bus met me with more tears and "I'll miss you's" and my heart simply broke.
A week wasn't long enough for me to give them all the love I wanted to, but a week was all I had. And a week was all it took for J's heart to feel safe and secure and open enough to reach out and hug me first.
Keep my girls in your prayers; they will always be heavy on my heart.
7/14/2014
Rekindle
Every week I sit down to write to all of you about how camp is going...and every week I find it more and more difficult to contain all the good things into just one story. So many wonderful things happened last week during our first experience with elementary (3rd-6th grade) boys - but I believe I know what I need to share.
I think it was Wednesday. I was managing lunch for the big eating room; the yellow team and the red team were with me. Now, about the yellow team - they were all Asians. Some from Thailand, a few from China and Burma. Basically, they are from a culture I am not accustomed to but I certainly have a growing interest in! Several of the red team were African, and a few American. It was quite a mix!
The yellow team was clamoring for a song "FIFA song!" they would say - but it wasn't from any recent years. Finally, after a few failed attempts and a lot of laughter, we managed to find the song on YouTube. Here are the lyrics of the chorus for you:
When I get older
I will be stronger
They'll call me Freedom
Just like a wavin' flag...
If you haven't heard the song, look it up right now, hit play, then switch the screen back to this and keep reading,
Within moments, all of us had discarded our half eaten lunches on the tables. We were all around the room, dancing and swaying and twirling (yes, little boys twirl very well) to the beat of one of the best songs I've ever heard in my life. I remember that I looked around the room and couldn't stop smiling. These are the moments that remind me where my heart is; the ones that rekindle the fire Christ sparked in my heart when I was a child.
I adore these children. Working at this camp is an experience I think everyone should consider, one that I am honored to be a part of. But my first love is, and always will be, other countries. This week was just another confirmation that I was made to be fluid, made to step outside of the box.
Saying good-bye to the boys this week was one of the hardest good-byes I have had all summer. They show so much love without any one telling them to. And when they dance, they inspire everyone to join in.
Thank you for keeping us in prayers!
Bekah S.
I think it was Wednesday. I was managing lunch for the big eating room; the yellow team and the red team were with me. Now, about the yellow team - they were all Asians. Some from Thailand, a few from China and Burma. Basically, they are from a culture I am not accustomed to but I certainly have a growing interest in! Several of the red team were African, and a few American. It was quite a mix!
The yellow team was clamoring for a song "FIFA song!" they would say - but it wasn't from any recent years. Finally, after a few failed attempts and a lot of laughter, we managed to find the song on YouTube. Here are the lyrics of the chorus for you:
When I get older
I will be stronger
They'll call me Freedom
Just like a wavin' flag...
If you haven't heard the song, look it up right now, hit play, then switch the screen back to this and keep reading,
Within moments, all of us had discarded our half eaten lunches on the tables. We were all around the room, dancing and swaying and twirling (yes, little boys twirl very well) to the beat of one of the best songs I've ever heard in my life. I remember that I looked around the room and couldn't stop smiling. These are the moments that remind me where my heart is; the ones that rekindle the fire Christ sparked in my heart when I was a child.
I adore these children. Working at this camp is an experience I think everyone should consider, one that I am honored to be a part of. But my first love is, and always will be, other countries. This week was just another confirmation that I was made to be fluid, made to step outside of the box.
Saying good-bye to the boys this week was one of the hardest good-byes I have had all summer. They show so much love without any one telling them to. And when they dance, they inspire everyone to join in.
Thank you for keeping us in prayers!
Bekah S.
7/06/2014
Sunshine on a Cloudy Day
Last week was a roller coaster.
Re-reading that phrase, I have no choice but to laugh. It is the exact phrase my family has used to describe me for years. Since the morning of my third birthday I have been considered the emotionally unstable one of my household - count on Bekah to take you to the highest heights and lowest lows in ten seconds flat. This week gave me a taste of what my parents experienced in my own childhood.
In keeping with the metaphor, at the end of a roller coaster the rider usually feels rushed, tired, and happy. The same can be said of me this weekend. Junior High Girls are a handful; they are emotional and self conscious - and especially in need of extravagant love.
The beginning of the week was...interesting. I had a crazy mix of girls, and an awesome new CIT (counselor in training) to get accustomed to. A new sleep schedule and set of temperaments to send my brain through. And if you remember anything about middle school, you should remember that the world is a dismal depressing and unsatisfying place where (READ WITH OVER EXAGGERATED 'WOE IS ME' ATTITUDE) no one is for you, every one is against you, and if you have to do something other than sit and stare then the world is coming to an end!
My CIT and I sat down one evening as the girls were out hiding for a game of find the campers; we just sat and sighed. Peace and quiet - for the first time! We weren't sure how to get the girls excited for anything; how to teach them respect and how to be positive...it was only the second day and we were fried. The week would continue that same suite: Wake the girls up and brace yourselves for showers of complaints and arguments with sprinklings of giggles and smiles and a ray or two of gratitude before the downpours of grumbling hit each evening.
Then it was Thursday and the camp wide team scavenger hunt was upon us. I had pulled aside two of my girls - one a strong leader, the other a quiet and cautious girl - and asked them both to do something for me: be vocally positive and encouraging. My CIT and I sat all the girls down and stressed the fact that the obstacles would take team work and encouragement; we weren't sure if our words were doing any good until that evening when we were all at the starting line.
We cried.
The girls were nothing but positive, kind, considerate. With only one incident the entire hour we were running across camp, my CIT and I were leaping for joy. But the final test came - and it wasn't even an obstacle. It was the fact that we were coming in second place, not first. I was preparing for the whining voices saying "We didn't even come in first, what was the point!?" or "We did all this work for nothing, this is stupid!"...I waited...
And nothing happened.
The girls were quiet for a moment and then they were smiling, high-fiving each other, cheering on the other teams passing by, laughing. I couldn't believe it. The emotional downpour was gone, and in its place, the sunshine was brighter than ever! It took all week, but my girls learned the importance of encouragement and positive attitudes.
Blessed. That's what I am.
- Bekah S.
Re-reading that phrase, I have no choice but to laugh. It is the exact phrase my family has used to describe me for years. Since the morning of my third birthday I have been considered the emotionally unstable one of my household - count on Bekah to take you to the highest heights and lowest lows in ten seconds flat. This week gave me a taste of what my parents experienced in my own childhood.
In keeping with the metaphor, at the end of a roller coaster the rider usually feels rushed, tired, and happy. The same can be said of me this weekend. Junior High Girls are a handful; they are emotional and self conscious - and especially in need of extravagant love.
The beginning of the week was...interesting. I had a crazy mix of girls, and an awesome new CIT (counselor in training) to get accustomed to. A new sleep schedule and set of temperaments to send my brain through. And if you remember anything about middle school, you should remember that the world is a dismal depressing and unsatisfying place where (READ WITH OVER EXAGGERATED 'WOE IS ME' ATTITUDE) no one is for you, every one is against you, and if you have to do something other than sit and stare then the world is coming to an end!
My CIT and I sat down one evening as the girls were out hiding for a game of find the campers; we just sat and sighed. Peace and quiet - for the first time! We weren't sure how to get the girls excited for anything; how to teach them respect and how to be positive...it was only the second day and we were fried. The week would continue that same suite: Wake the girls up and brace yourselves for showers of complaints and arguments with sprinklings of giggles and smiles and a ray or two of gratitude before the downpours of grumbling hit each evening.
Then it was Thursday and the camp wide team scavenger hunt was upon us. I had pulled aside two of my girls - one a strong leader, the other a quiet and cautious girl - and asked them both to do something for me: be vocally positive and encouraging. My CIT and I sat all the girls down and stressed the fact that the obstacles would take team work and encouragement; we weren't sure if our words were doing any good until that evening when we were all at the starting line.
We cried.
The girls were nothing but positive, kind, considerate. With only one incident the entire hour we were running across camp, my CIT and I were leaping for joy. But the final test came - and it wasn't even an obstacle. It was the fact that we were coming in second place, not first. I was preparing for the whining voices saying "We didn't even come in first, what was the point!?" or "We did all this work for nothing, this is stupid!"...I waited...
And nothing happened.
The girls were quiet for a moment and then they were smiling, high-fiving each other, cheering on the other teams passing by, laughing. I couldn't believe it. The emotional downpour was gone, and in its place, the sunshine was brighter than ever! It took all week, but my girls learned the importance of encouragement and positive attitudes.
Blessed. That's what I am.
- Bekah S.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)