Josh and I just made it home from the Northwest District Youth Camp. It seems like only yesterday we were traveling for OWU together, going from camp to camp all summer long, living out of suitcases and spending most of the summer in a minivan.
So it should come as no surprise three years later that neither of us has the gusto we once had. We were out-jumped, out-slept, and out-lasted, but camp was so good.
Our dear friend from OWU was the camp speaker, and several friends from college were on a traveling team and music team that stayed for the week, and not only were our hearts, souls, and minds renewed spiritually, they were renewed relationally, as well.
For the first time since my traveling excursions in college, though, I felt a bit out of whack at camp. I'm working on my Masters, so trying to balance school-work on top of campers and team time was a bit more of a challenge than anticipated.
I had to hole up for nearly 24 hours to focus on school deadlines and missed the first full day of camp. Instead of being part of a team for the rest of the week, I wandered from team to team and simply watched campers and their interactions with peers and leaders. You can learn so much from merely wandering.
I was able to be in the cabins with the girl campers from our church every evening, which was wonderful. The female leader from another church had the two girls we took to camp in her cabin. That cabin was also full of students I taught this last semester substitute teaching for Josh's hometown high school.
There were a few girls in that cabin who caused both Josh and I much grief as subs. They were loud talkers, drama makers, and boy gawkers. I was nervous about their influence on other campers for the week, and curious to see what God had in store.
One girl in particular was a pure joy, but rough. Rough, rough, rough. During school, she never smiled, took pleasure from harassing and bullying other students, and had the mouth of a sailor. She was probably the most shocking face to see on the bus Monday morning as we headed off for camp. While subbing, Josh always said, "Every time I see her face, I just want to smack her!"
And Josh is one of the most gentle people I know.
But God was working overtime in this girl's heart.
Wednesday night of camp, during cabin devotions, "Mandy" leaned over to her neighbor and whispered, "Hey, what's Mrs. Blain's name?" The neighbor whispered back, and Mandy said, "I really like how Ashley said that teachers notice students. It made me think, 'Man, she must think I'm a jerk!'"
We all laughed a bit, and I said, "Yep, you're probably all very glad I don't have detention slips this week."
Several girls said, "You never gave me detention!" to which Mandy said, "Me eit.....oh, uh, never mind."
Mandy DID receive detention from me. Several times. And one or two from Josh.
The last night of camp, Mandy found me after the message and poured out her heart. She shared her joy of receiving Christ for the first time during camp, but the gut wrenching fear of what awaited her at home.
Mandy has a rough life. And she knows it.
She and I prayed together, and just before she stood up and walked away, she looked at me and said, "I want to be like you."
I was a little confused, then she added, "You walk into the classroom, and everybody's face lights up. I know you watch people, but people watch you, too, and you're always smiling. It makes everyone else smile, too."
Then she left.
I bowed my head, and wept. And that's how Josh found me. On my knees, weeping with joy, absolutely humbled by the continued promise that God is good.
Teaching isn't just a job to me. It's a ministry. And even as a substitute, some days wondering if God would ever give me a classroom of my own, students noticed my heart. This is amazing to me, because many days I just felt cranky----at the drive, the pay, the dysfunction. Somehow, a seed was planted, and I am awed.
I was also very proud of my husband this week. Some people are called to be teachers, some doctors, others laborers, and still others business owners. Josh is called to be a preacher.
He led what this camp calls a break-out session, which basically means campers are split into three groups and each group hears a different small-group speaker each day. Josh spoke about risk, and spoke with authority and love. He may not believe it himself, but he is remarkable, and campers listened to what he shared. Several girls shared how his message affected them during cabin devotions throughout the week.
I am so blessed and honored to be married to this man. We don't have a perfect marriage, and some days are more difficult than others to go to bed saying "I choose Josh," but every day is worth the commitment we made a year ago. I'm married to a man who helps craft me into a better woman. He loves me, even on my worst days, and holds me when I miss my family the most.
If any risk can make me aware and minutely understandable of the risk Christ took in laying down his life so we could choose to accept Him or not, it's the risk of marriage. It's vulnerable, and there's no guarantee love will be reciprocated, especially not for an entire lifetime, but nothing else in life quite compares to the joy of this partnership.
Camp may be for the young physically, but this tired heart has been renewed, and it's ready for the next round this life has to offer.
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