Happy Endings

As I write this, I've got eighteen straight hours of sleep under my belt and eyes that still feel like warm puffy roasted marshmallows. It's probably because of all the late nights, early mornings, smoky campfires, and emotional tears. That's right. I am capable of crying at things. I can now say I've temporarily cured my insomnia, and replaced it with a little something called Nostalgia. It's an infectious disease, potentially debilitating in the sense that it keeps you from getting on with your life, and women are especially susceptible to the virus. I am embracing it fully, knowing that soon I will be cured by work and life and sleep. See, I just got back from Girl's Camp. Anyone who has ever been will understand how intense that is...you'll never laugh in quite the same way, dance quite as hard, sleep as little, love as deep, and cry as much as you can at camp. If anyone read this, they'd probably be wondering if I even HAVE a life outside of camp, and the truth is, I really don't. They just won't let me leave. The past three years I've served as a Junior Leader in charge of one committee, then a Leader of Junior Leaders, and finally, Assistant Camp Director. I'm not quite sure why I keep getting asked back. I think it's because I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I didn't. Camp is work, and it starts way back in January when they pick the leaders. In February, they call them. In March, they have meetings and plan dates for all the other meetings. The camp rule is that the meeting will end approximately two hours after the original projected end time. It can get pretty stressful, but the ends justify all when you get to see enemies forgive, friendships forge, and love of God grow. It's magic, and so much fun. We started off the week with an initiation of the new Junior leaders, some of whom still believe to this day that they drank leftover dinner, loogies, dirt, raw eggs, bugs, and salad dressing. The campers showed up the next morning and were treated to a brutal game of Land Quidditch. When all was said and done, I had a broom shaped lump on my head, four detached broom heads, three snapped in half, and several bleeding campers. Let's just say that this is NOT your Camp Hemophilia. I'm sure there were some bruised egos as well; mine in particular. That night, we stayed up late playing Loaded Questions, the ultimate laugh out loud 'you don't wanna know' game. I will never be able to take a bath without thinking "stop looking at me, Sthwan!" or walk the hygiene aisle without laughing at Kelsey's irresistable Flow. The next day brought the most hilarious camp skits I believe we have ever had. Our skit was stakeside story, documenting the tension between JL's and Stake Leaders through song and dance. I amazed myself by singing in front of an audience for the very first time (in my underwear, no less) a little solo number made popular in Westside Story as Maria, but Camp-a-tized in our skit as Diarrhea. Cassie, Kelsey Swope, Kanish, Megan, Loveland, and Midget then convened in the cabin for the traditional reading of my Anasazi journal, circled around a pile of ice cream bars, sandwiches, and candy. That night was Prank Night, disguised on the schedule as Movie night. No one seems to know the truth of how it actually happened, and while there has been mass speculation and myriad accusations, I think the secret will be taken to the perpetrators' graves. The what, however, is common knowledge. Kim, Kendra, and I went to bed on our lovely air mattress and woke up late the next morning, still in our bed, but far from the tent we lived in. We were parked right behind Kris Ball's van in the road outside the Bergeson cabin. We were shoeless and had missed breakfast. I've never been laughed at so much in my life.
Thursday brought boating at Redfish, swim time/pirate attack and takedown at Alturas, a beautiful musical fireside, and the much anticipated Testimony Meeting. Nothing will ever compare to watching girls I led when they were thirteen stand up as amazing leaders themselves to share their own stories of coming to know and love Christ. Powerful. That's all there is to it...After all the years of camp, I have had witness enough to know that this church is the true, full gospel of Jesus Christ. I don't care how much it makes me sound like a dork or a so-called "Jesus Freak." I don't think there is such thing. And now, if you'll excuse me, I've got pictures to put on Facebook, a signed camp quilt to go cuddle in, tender memories to dwell on, and some chocolate to top it all off. I'll do it with the windows open and my pillow that has not been washed because I am creepy and it smells like Camp.