I had every desire and intention to write these past few days but I just couldn’t make it happen. With camp ending we’ve had an extra full whirlwind of forty-eight hours, packing and unpacking, hosting the counsellors one last time, and more goodbyes.
All the emotions are usually what drives my urgent need to write and process. It’s too much to carry around inside of me. Sometimes I wish I could cope better with life without feeling so dependent upon writing/blogging/journaling or whatever this particular vice/coping mechanism/exercise/joy is.
It’s okay though. I’m learning there are going to be times when the best and sometimes the only way to process is simply to treasure up all these things in my heart.
We had such an amazing week at camp this year. This was a great summer for all of us. God has truly blessed us so much. I feel so thankful to have the chance to this life again, and even more so that my kids do. We figured out we had come to camp five years as a family prior to this one.
I have always battled with such sadness and borderline (okay, probably full blown) resentment the others years we returned to camp. Camp had always been a place where work never felt like work. But coming back with babies and little ones was so different. Every lonely second of the day felt like a never ending selfless chore. Motherhood felt so degrading.
I had several moments of crying this week, not in sadness and despair, but in utter praise and redemption. The kids could help me carry things to the car. They could carry their own plates in the serving line.
They helped me get things ready for our last night with the counsellors.
I want to write all their parents and tell them how proud they would be to see what great kids they have and what a great job they did this summer.
They all did a fantastic job.