So real quick, in case you didn't know; I am not working at Camp Cedarbrook this summer and yes, I will be in the country, in fact I will be less than an hour and a half away.
The summer doesn't even start, officially, until late June, but I'm already devastated by my decision (or well God's nudge) to not work at camp this summer. I remember at the end of last summer when I knew God was telling me that it was the last full summer I would get to spend home, at Camp Cedarbrook, for at least a while. I told several people and they just assumed it was a joke or thought hey, she'll probably just be out of the country... But both of those are false and I'm not going to be counseling. I'm not even going to be working at camp. It's not like I got bumped into a higher position or asked to not return, rather I am going to be at my parents' house in East Greenbush, while terribly missing camp.
As I was up there this weekend, doing task after task for the work weekend, I was reminded of how much the crazy amount of work drives me. It's comical, really... how doing a tremendous amount of thankless labor can make you miss a place even more... I never realized it before, but the work that I have put in over the years has definitely fueled the attachment I have to camp. But as I was driving down the camp road, on my way back to civilization, I tried to collect my thoughts into cohesive sentences. I desperately wanted to convey my feelings on leaving camp, on hard goodbyes, on endings. Why? Maybe it's for me, but maybe you can relate as well.
I put a CD in and it happened to be a CD that one of my best friends in high school gave me before I went to Ohio, to attend Cedarville. The opening song is by Green Day. It's called, Good Riddance. The lyrics begin;
Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road - time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go. So make the best of this time and don't ask why. It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time. It's something unpredictable, but in the end is right, I hope you had the time of your life.Those haunting words. They got me back in high school. They got me now.
This song perfectly describes where I am now. The lyrics helped me collect a few thoughts. I don't know what this summer looks like. I don't know why I'm not going to be at camp, or well I'm beginning to learn, but not fully. I don't want to do something hard (and leave camp). For once I don't want to be unpredictable... I already miss the smell of moth balls. I am going to miss the way that campers react when I tell them that they should use the Palace, because it is the greatest bathroom at camp (it's a jankity outhouse, if you're curious). I am going to miss the ability to call a cabin my home. I miss my roughly 12'' x 12'' x 12'' cubby where all my 'important things' hide. I miss the obnoxious singing at the dining hall tables, that I always encourage, if I'm not already the most wild one in the room. I am going to miss being able to go sailing, or swimming or have fires, whenever. I am going to miss the stinky horses and wandering dogs (and I don't even like animals). I'll even miss the tasks that I always manage to get myself assigned to and those stupid pocket knife activities...
I will miss being in the woods. ALL THE TIME. Even finding a spider or frog or worse yet a mouse nest...will be missed.
I ALREADY miss and I know it will get worse as the summer looms closer, the incredible staff that I have worked alongside for some of or all of the last 4 summers and the staff who watched me grow up since I was two years old... The people who have stuck alongside me through every weird stage of my life (I say weird because I don't think I ever grew out of the weird stage that everyone is supposed to go through at some point - usually middle school)... The friends who I have loved and grown incredibly close to and learned so much from.... the older staff members and my previous counselors who have poured into my life and been incredible role models and loved me with an uncanny amount of love... the people who were representatives of Jesus to me.
But more than anything. I am going to miss the campers. They're why I have worked at camp. They're it for me. It's all about them. I feel nauseous every time I think about not being there. I know they don't need me. Obviously. I don't even know if they realize how hard it is for me to leave camp and that it's BECAUSE OF THEM THAT IT'S SO HARD. Those 6 or so days worth of relationship, of sharing meals, of doing Bible study and cooking dinner over a fire and just being crazy with... The weeks that I have been a counselor at Camp Cedarbrook have been the best (while at times, worst) weeks of my life. I wouldn't, I couldn't trade them for anything.
Camp Cedarbrook is a place to encounter God and to be filled with His Spirit, empowered to grow and thrive, while in the community of believers. It was at camp that I had counselors and friends who first challenged me in my faith and continue to do so. They fought/fight the devil's battles against me. They stood/stand by me. They loved/love me. They served/serve me. They were/are Jesus to me. And that is what I hope, more than anything, is remembered of me... in the 19 summers that I was present (for at least some small portion) at Camp Cedarbrook. I hope that when the campers and staff discuss their past counselors or talk about staff who aren't there or whatever the topic may be, I hope that when the name Cambri, Toyota, or Heidi Johnson is mentioned, it isn't to remark how crazy, how weird, how wonderful/horrible of a counselor/person/worker she was, and the list goes on of descriptors... Rather, my desire is that I would leave a legacy of loving like Jesus. No matter what.
And I hope and pray that at least one camper or one staff member would catch on to that. That they would realize that in spite of my flaws, my humanity... I strove and strive to be Jesus to them. If even one person came to a better understanding of God's love for them, through Christ, as a result of my time at camp, then it was not in vain. And it won't bother me then, if I am remembered or forgotten, because the reason that I worked at camp is so that Christ would be known and that God's love would be expressed. My true desire is that Jesus' name would be the one proclaimed and that any good that I accomplished would be recognized as the Spirit's empowerment. You see, the biggest part of camp for me, bigger than even the campers themselves, is that Christ be glorified.
Camp will always be a part of me. A HUGE part of me. And while I'm not totally removed, I'm going to be removed enough to feel the pain of saying goodbye. And it kills me. But I must admit, that while this may be goodbye for now, I certainly have had the "time of my life."
There you have it folks. If you made it to the end of this post, then you are a champion yourself. Thank you. If you have any magical cure for the Camp Cedarbrook blues, please, do fill me in.
