The Women are Coming!

We began staff meeting on Tuesday by sharing with others what we are thankful for. We got around to Jim (the chef) who said with a perfectly straight face, “The men are gone. The women are coming.”

“And which are you thankful for?” Lisa asked.

“Well…”

Whether we like it or not, the women are coming. 220 of them this weekend and about 230 of them next. And I stressed about it all last week…to the point that I hit a wall Friday morning. And felt sick before going into work on Monday. I’m not sure if women who feel called to women’s ministry have more grace than the rest of us or are just crazy.

God is ever gracious! Andrea and I both thought we’d hit Monday running an ultra marathon we hadn’t trained for. Women’s events at camp can be stressful, but other things have been going on that have lessened the usual pressure. We’ve ended every day this week looking at each other in amazement. Honestly, it feels like there’s got to be something HUGE we’re missing. But if there is, it’s not on my checklist.

Of course, there have been moments. I keep thinking I’m back in school. One woman tried to manipulate me with “threats” today as if I could make Jim appear in his office when he’d left work for the day.  Half the cancellations we’ve had share their “sob story” as if I’m the teacher and they’re trying to explain why they didn’t hand in their homework. I have had only one call from a woman who wanted to do the right thing about a cancellation, and I was more than happy to just let it ride as it was…for at least she tried!

And like the first day of school, I come to work today scared that the other girls won’t like me. After all, I’ve never really fit in. The five years I did spend in a school setting, I thankfully had friends. But I was also bullied.  I found books and tried to keep out of sight. Maybe most kids feel that way. Maybe most adults. I know I do. For sixty women arrive today and the other 160 tomorrow, most of them gabbing about their husbands, and kids, and the homes they have…while I’ve nothing to talk about but my job and the latest book I’ve read. They have no interest in that. And so, twenty-five years later, I still don’t fit in. And will bring a book to read in my down time.

Adult school is a lot harder than kids school. Especially women’s events that mean long hours (48 clocked working hours in just 3 ½ days) and lots of talking about husbands and kids. It’s hard not to envy the ones who speak of such things with joy. Those who are struggling and complain, I want to hit. Can’t they see that even though there are struggles, they’ve been given a husband to struggle alongside? They’re children may not be perfect, but they are reward from God! Some of us aren’t allowed the struggles anymore than we are allowed the blessings…and we would rejoice to have them both.

There will be many lessons to learn this weekend. The first is to have a humble, servant’s heart. For the women are coming. And God’s grace is sufficient. 

Samuel Caleb Sturm, 

US Marine Corps

My brother

Happy Birthday, Katey!

Let’s put on our matching dance leotards, and I’ll teach you how to spin!

Retreat Season

As the days grow shorter, rain darkens the skies, the temperatures stoop into the 30s and 40s at night and the leaves just start changing colors retreat season comes to camp. In a matter of one month we have four different kinds of retreats: Dads ‘n Daughters, Senior, Men’s and Women’s (which takes up two weekends). As the registrar, I have to look at the broad picture of all of them at once and yet keep my focus on the one that’s up to bat. Sometimes it does feel a little like a juggling act since no two retreats are the same. In fact, I have learned several differences between Seniors, Men and Women:

• Seniors sign up as soon as they receive their brochure, pay in full and don’t bother me until they arrive unless they must cancel. Men trickle in last minute over the phone, only bother me with questions and most pay in full. Women sign up in droves as soon as the registration hits their mailbox, call about a million things from where they want to room to whom they want to room with to what’s for dinner to savings spots for their friend, and while most pay in full the ones that don’t hope the bill will disappear.
• Seniors are easy to deal with as a whole since they’re well enough to come to camp, men are only difficult when they arrive for registration because most of them are lost without their wives, women are constantly ringing my phone off the hook.
• Seniors aren’t particular about their housing aside from steps, men don’t really care where you put them as long as their with their “gang”, women want to room with this person but not that one and are very particular about their location in respect to…well, everything.
• Seniors love whatever our kitchen fixes. Men don’t care as long as meat is on the menu. 25% of women are gluten free and want particular menus (and, honestly, I’d say only 1% are actually celiac while the rest just want to loose weight).
• In a nutshell: seniors are like dealing with the kids all summer and you shrug most of the problems aside because they’re seniors. Men…well, they’re men. Planning ahead means nothing to do them, so my reports are in a constant state of change. Women never left elementary school – they want to be with their friends, save places to sit and complain when they don’t like the food.

Yes, I am learning a lot at camp! During senior week this week, I wondered what I would be like as an old lady. (I hoping for sweet!). I just shrug at the men. Can’t change them, so may as well do it their way. As for the women, I look at myself in the mirror and wonder how complicated I make the lives of others. I try to be a simple, easy to please sort of person; but I can’t honestly say I always enjoy my reflection.

Life is full of lessons. These are just a few more.

Children's Books

All of us in life have dreams. Some of them, we fulfill. Others, we don't. Of all the dreams I've had, I've partially fulfilled one if you qualify teaching kids at church and being a tutor for several years as "being a teacher". I'm still waiting for the top ones: wife and mother. And, now that my schedule is a lot less tense than it was in Texas, getting back around to the other: writer. I don't know that I will ever fulfill my dreams.

But I have a friend who has now fulfilled her dreams and I am very happy for her! She started fulfilling those dreams over the past many years when she illustrated these wonderful books:







Meanwhile, she continued to draw her own pictures and write her own books until this summer, it came out!!!:



As you may be able to see, her name is Astrid Sheckels. You can check out her website astridsheckels.com where you will see lots more beautiful artwork! And, soon, more books!

Little Irritations

Okay, so maybe it’s just me. Recently, I’ve been making my way through the television series Monk. That’s the one about the OCD detective. It’s very funny…and very scary. I don’t mean I have nightmares over murder mysteries. I just mean I often see the world just like he does. I separate my food. I put magazines, books and other things in neat rows. I alphabetize just about everything. And if I was to draw a picture of my world, I would do so with a black pen in perfectly straight lines down the paper. Just ask Katey how awful I was to play with…

So, little details can irritate me – to a point. Some things I honestly don’t care about. (I don’t use a leveler to hang my pictures. I’m not a cleaning fanatic. And I’m not big on making every little thing perfect for events, which is why women’s events at camp drive me crazy and also why I am having a short ceremony and cakes, mints, nuts and punch at my wedding.) But some things really get on my nerves.

The top on the list recently (besides women’s events at camp) is the new first class postage stamps. They’re American flags, which I 100% approve of. However, they are put on backgrounds and drawn in such a way that it’s hard to tell which way to put the stamp on the envelope. The only saving grace to not putting our beloved flag upside down are the words “USA” and “Forever” printed on the stamp. And even then, some people aren’t detailed enough to notice that and are hence sending distress signals through the mail.  

I know our United States Post Office is failing. Everything that is government run is – as history proves over and over again. Perhaps that’s the whole point of these horribly drawn flags – the USPS is trying to tell us it’s in distress. Or maybe the artist was. And the committee that approved the design. Well, I’m joining the club. I’m distressed that one of these days I’m going to put my flag upside down. Yet another reason why I would take my business elsewhere –if the USPS had competition. But that’s another soap box for another time. 

Meeting of the Flies

We have a staff meeting every Tuesday morning, usually about 10:30 or 11. It’s the only time all of us are in one place, catching each other up on maintenance issues, what the kitchen’s cooking up, weekend groups, retreats we’re planning for and miscellaneous things. Like most meetings, they have their boring moments. But ours nearly always have times of laughter. Although none were quite like this last one:

“Well, it was a really good weekend,” says Bill. “What is with all these flies?”

“It’s that time of year,” I said.

“Does anyone have a fly swatter?” Lisa asked, trying to protect her cups of coffee, tea and water.

“As I was saying, it was a good weekend…” Bill gives the report on Labor Day Weekend Family Camp where we had nearly 220 people all over camp, more than half of them children under the age of 15.

“Okay, Aaron, what do we have coming up?” Bill asks.

Aaron starts on his report when…SPLAT!

“Got him!” Lisa says, picking up the now dead fly and putting it in her empty tea cup.

Aaron continues on with the guest groups that will be using camp over the next few weeks. Meanwhile, two flies get in a fight and tackle each other on the table right next to me. Lisa slams them.

“Two!” Bill applauds as they get put in the open fly grave with the first victim.

Phil follows Aaron with reports on the new sidewalk, carpet cleaning and other things that need to be done before fall comes and winter quickly closes in on that.

SPLAT!

“Aw, you missed that one,” I told Bill.

“I’m working on it,” Bill says.

“My mom used to give us a nickel for every fly we killed this time of year,” I said. “My sister Grace would spend hours killing flies. She knew how to make some serious money.”

“And that’s everything I have,” Phil concludes.

“Okay, Melissa. You’re turn,” Bill says.

SPLAT! Another fly joins the open grave.

I finished up what I’m busy with in the office and next is Lisa’s turn, but first…

SPLAT!

I have never seen a fly spin like a top, but this one did – not quite dead. I think it may have overheard us discussing where the disco ball is for the Dads ‘n Daughters “Lights, Camera, Action!” dinner on Saturday. It wanted to try break dancing.

“What are you going to do with that?” Bill asks Lisa.

Lisa scoops it up, puts it in the open grave, grabs my empty cup and stuffs it into her cup, twisting it to ensure all the flies are now dead.

“That works,” Bill said.

And so our meeting continues…the casualty count ending at about eight or nine. And lots of running water and soap.

You know, it must be in the air. I don’t mean the flies. I mean killing insects. For later that afternoon, following a stray wasp in his office, Aaron found that some wasps are building a really nice nest in the blue fir tree just outside his office window. And today he decided to spray them with every can of wasp-killer we had.

Insects beware: stay clear of Camp Lebanon!

"My heart is insecure, but He is not."
              ~ believer in a closed country