For the last thirteen weeks, life made sense. My time had structure and there was a purpose for everything I did. I was surrounded by an incredible community of believers who constantly built me up and encouraged me in my walk. I woke up knowing exactly (almost) what to expect from my day.
Now, I know nothing.
I am home, which is great. Don't misunderstand me. I love spending time with my family (which I'm not really doing at the moment, because the Lazyboneses are still sleeping). But I don't know what to DO. I'm restless. I feel anxious, like I'm supposed to be doing something important but I'm not doing it.
I think I've forgotten how to rest. My mind and body have grown accustomed to just going for the majority of the day, and now that I'm sitting, typing words onto a computer screen, they are freaking out.
Right now, I would be sorting mail. The Baby Ruths would help me distribute all of it and then lunch would start. Tuesday--so that means Chicken/Bacon Sandwiches and potato soup. Water--and lots of it--to drink. Then the cheers would start: "Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiit and paaalace--pit pit and palace--wha!" We'd gaze in awe at the golden sweeper. Then the screen would drop down and everyone would scream like they were surprised to see it. Sir Phaseya the Tan and Sir Snap the G would discover Crazy Old Maurice and his "cottage." They wouldn't be able to answer his riddle, but they'd take the Sword of Majesticity anyway. We'd all chant, "Slay. That. Dragon," and then head off to F.O.B.
My whole day today has been a giant F.O.B. Flat on back. Full of bull. Really, though. My day feels wasted, and only because I'm resting.
This summer was incredible. Incredibly difficult and incredibly rewarding. I was able to experience God changing my heart from cold to warm. I felt love, and gave love. I poured my life and my heart out and carried others' burdens and grief with them. God's grace and love was shown to me daily, never because I deserved it, but because that's who God is. And I was constantly reminded of his character in that way.
It's only been two days. But the past two days have felt so...slow. I don't feel like I have a purpose. I feel lazy and now I'm concentrating on the future, when I would much rather keep my mind in the moment.
I pray that I might be reminded of the way camp felt. God is the same God here that he was at Pine Cove. So why should anything be different?
If I've learned anything from being home, it's that I'm not meant for easy work. I don't like it. I need to be doing something for the Kingdom--not because I want to appear like a better person, but because that's where my heart is. I didn't know that until now.
I wanted this blog to be focused on what I learned at camp this year...but my fingers took me in a different direction. That happens a lot when I write. I can't really plan it, you know? It's--well...what comes out, comes out. It's almost as if my brain has no say in it.
My heart. My heart on a page.
