Carol: Rosie & Mr. Fun

By Carol

The Final Full Day at Family Camp

Since 1980 when we first started going to family camp, we have never ceased to be amazed at the celebration that is experienced on Fridays. The mornings present the normal routine, and then at lunchtime the big 3 o'clock "Boat Race" is announced and the details about the 6 o'clock "Banquet." So Fridays are a big day.

At 1:30 everyone is invited to build a boat--a milk carton boat. When our kids were little we used to do that. Nowadays we just watch all the "builders" and are amazed at the fabulous unbelievable designs that are conjured and created. This year Paul, our camp director, reminded everyone to only use 4 milk cartons per boat. I hadn't remembered that stipulation from previous years. So the afternoon, down near the waterfront, was a hub of activity as the children, especially the little boys, gather with their dads and granddads to devise the "winning" boat.

Elsewhere in the camp, activity is also at a high level. The entire camp staff is decorating the children's classrooms for their evening banquet and the dining room staff is rearranging the entire dining facility which is where the adults and teens will eat and celebrate. The evening banquet (at this rustic camp) is a BIG deal. Children have been making posters and crafts all week and all of these things are used to decorate the various rooms.

So with all of this going on, what else could be happening? Well, I knew that the bathroom pavilion would begin to fill-up mid-afternoon, and especially after the 3:00 o'clock boat race, so usually I get there early to shower, wash, blow-dry, and curl my hair. Years ago Mr. Fun & I used to have matching tuxedo t-shirts and we'd wear those to the banquet.

At 5:45 the children scamper off to their groups and everyone else gathers on the camp fairway just below the dining hall, which is on the second story of the building called "Lighthouse." Then the camp staff comes down the stairs with trays of delicious appetizers. The feast begins right there on the fairway. People gather in clumps to get their photos taken. The magical moment happens when Paul, from the top of the stairs, invites everyone to ascend the stairs to dine. The meal is better than anyone can imagine--punctuated with lots of wonderful music. Danny Oertli sang several songs, one of my favorites is the song he wrote for his wife Rayna, titled "Will You Marry Me Again?"

But then the priceless moment arrived when the entire group of campers--adults and teens--are invited to share the highlights of their week. No one has to come to the mic to speak, but it is quite surprising how many people one-at-a-time come to just tell what was magical and miracle about their week. There is often lots of laughter and sometimes a few tears as insightful commentary is spoken about the depth of relationship that has been experienced in this little island cove. We're given a glimpse into whole families and individuals lives. Neither Mr. Fun nor I went to the microphone that night; we have done that , though, numerous times in years past.

So if I would have gone to the microphone that night this is what I would have shared (and did share at church Sunday morning because the pastor allowed me to share my thoughts during the communion and offering devotional time): I came to camp feeling fairly numb and somewhat stunned because so much has happened in our lives in the past 8 years. I felt pretty wounded, disappointed, and discouraged--wondering what God was doing in my life. I know that camp is a safe place for children--no roads in, no strangers, everyone looks out for everyone else's kids--it's a safe place for kids. I also know that for me sometimes camp has NOT been a safe place because it's a place where God catches my attention. So I've thought of camp as a "scary place" but actually I've thought of it as a "sacred place." Before coming to camp I had given God permission--invited Him to touch my life, but my request was accompanied with the plea that He wouldn't be scary. As if I had any control of His actions. All throughout the week I felt God whispering to me that I mattered. The affirmations came through the words of songs and scripture, through small group conversations, the messages of our speakers, through the melody of the waves and the whistling breeze in the trees. I didn't share any of that at camp because other campers didn't know us and may not have related to our story. I knew the friends at home would relate. So I saved my sharing for home. Because this is my private journal that I share with the world (the blip world) I want to record it here. So I came home from camp with a quiet acknowledgement of a deep stirring in my life.

I am so blessed that our great-grandson, Tristan, and his mommy, Desiree, had accompanied us to camp. It's a week I'll always cherish and treasure because of the time I spent with Mr. Fun, Desiree, and Tristan, and the God Who loves me.

Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol


This was back-blipped on Wednesday, July 15.



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