Posts Tagged ‘church camp’

The RR Camping Saga

October 6, 2008

 

Photo by T. Robertson

Yes, the men and boys arrived home safely yesterday from two nights in the woods.  This was a highly frustrating trip for those who like comfort and order.  It was a highly amusing time for those who like to laugh in the face of confusion.  And it was a highly entertaining time for ALL the boys.  They’ll remember this trip for the rest of their lives.

The Royal Rangers (fondly known as Ritalin Rangers) from the Arizona District had their Grand Fall Pow Wow with several churches participating from around the state.  Poo Bah Poo Bah.  My dear husband is one of many commanders at our church and arranged for our RR boys to go. The plan was to leave on Friday around noon and head to a Boy Scout’s camp near the Grand Canyon, 3.5 hours northwest of us.  Then Tuesday they get an email that states that the camp in closed for construction and the Pow Wow had been moved to Payson, 1.5 hours east-north-east of us.  OK.  No problem.  Then THURSDAY they got an email that said it was indeed back at the Grand Canyon camp.  FINE.  Off they went on Friday.

 

Photo by T. Robertson

Can I just add here that on Thursday night close to midnight, my dear husband handed me the grocery list for the 26 campers and asked me to put quantities beside the items…. AND put the list in the order of the Walmart aisles.  Well, one look at the list and I started crossing off stuff.  Saturday morning breakfast included eggs, bacon, pancakes, syrup, bagels, cream cheese, coffee, hot chocolate, milk and orange juice.  No names mentioned, but the list was made by two of the cushy-hotel-campers.  I chiseled it down to pancakes, syrup, bacon, coffee and milk.  There.  (And there were no fruits or vegetables on the entire list for five meals…….)  I digress.  And yes, I put it in Walmart order and saved my dear husband at least two ours of wandering time.

SO, they get up to the Grand Canyon camp to find the gates locked… and an Under Construction sign.  Sigh.  They couldn’t just turn around and head to Payson because there was another truck load of boys and dads on their way.  For the next three hours they drove around and around and around looking for a camp ground.  By 9:30 p.m. they pulled off a lonely road into the trees and set up camp.  No bathrooms.  No running water.  My husband was in his Native Canadian Indian element… this is how he spent his summers growing up.  No big deal.  But for the clean-fingernail-crowd, it cramped their camping style.

They returned with smiles on their dirty, unshaven faces with every sleeping bag, foamy mattress and pillow WET!  Lovely.  I’m SOOOOOOOOOOOO glad it was a father-son trip.  :o)

I’m BAAA-AAAACK!

July 12, 2008

A special thanks to my hubby Rick who wrote his first blogs this past week here at My Sister’s Jar!  Well done, honey. 

Kid’s camp went great!  I survived another year and lived to tell the tale.  This year was like no other.  We’ve never sent kids home before. It was a new adventure. These were kids from MY cabin too.  Five girls, to be exact.  Nothing builds your self esteem as a dorm counselor like children who needed spankings years ago and their parents failed them… miserably.  They were given three major chances to improve their behavior, but simply weren’t interested.  And frankly, I wasn’t interested in any more chances.  I took the 80 minute drive home as an opportunity to preach hell fire and brimstone…. just kidding.  I did tell the girls that they were good kids who made bad decisions…. and if the pattern didn’t change, their lives would be miserable.  Who knows if it even broke the granite surface of their hearts.

Here’s Lacey Jane sliding through the rainbow.  My son, Keeve, is the boy standing in line wearing a t-shirt and jean shorts because he forgot to pack his swim suit (even though it was checked off on the list) with the red lightning bolt painted into his hair.  Makes a mama proud.

I put my earplugs in the night after the girls were gone and heard buzzing in my head.  I’m lying there thinking, “Does that buzzing mean my blood pressure is sky rocketing?  Is this what internal self combustion feels like?” But then I fell asleep and all was well when the sun peaked through the gaudy flower curtains on the PVC pipe curtain rod that was screwed into the wall.  (Design on a Dime could learn a few tricks at this camp!)

We were the Longhorns this week and we came in fifth place out of eight teams, but our cheer and our sign were the bomb, baby.  We lifted both arms up but tilted our hands down, you know, like longhorns.  And like the Karate Kid pose from days gone by.  Anyway, after an eating/drinking/ turned-into-ralphing game for our team’s contestant, we lifted our arms and yelled “Longhorns!”  and ended with a barfing noise.  It was the only thing that kept us sane the whole week.  :o) 

Our speaker was a totally fabulous story teller named Kevin from Washington.  He conveniently chose me to assist with a Bible story as one of four bad guys who could only answer in opera singing.  Can I just say that I may have missed my calling in life?!  My boys were amazed at how well I sang opera.  If only I knew some Italian, I could’ve brought the house down.

See, you can act like a kid at kid’s camp and everyone’s O.K. with it.  That’s why I go.

Train Up a Child

June 27, 2008

Our goal with our kids has always been to train them in the ways of the Lord.  Period.  There’s not much gray area in that sort of thinking… well, maybe hockey fights…. but seriously, we’ve aimed at excellence as much as it’s been in our capabilities.  We’ve been those parents that the other kids use as moral yardsticks: “But even Mrs. Crosby lets her kids watch that movie!”  Which means Jesus would watch it.  We’ve thought long and hard about the kids’ friends.  We’ve prayed for new friends.  We’ve seen answers to those prayers.  We’ve prayed for wisdom in parenting over and over…. while the kids were listening.

But somehow, deep inside, we pray that it sticks.  You know what I mean?  We speak positive words to them and Biblical promises over them.  We pray the scriptures over each one, including Zaza, our Colombian daughter who is not home yet. 

But somehow, deep inside, we wonder if we’ve sheltered them too much.  You know what I mean?  Will all this time with mom homeschooling REALLY make that much of a difference?  I could get on my homeschool soap box  and spit out the plethora of worldly things they’ve missed by skipping public school… but I’ll spare you.  (This time.)

Every now and again, we are humbled and discouraged by the children’s behavior.  But hey, they’re just kids.  They try dumb stuff, push our buttons and say unbelievably stupid things at inappropriate times.  Once our son completely insulted one of our daughter’s friends…. and was rightfully punished and apologized… I was mortified.  Rick and I sat on the couch that night saying, “We are good parents.  We are good parents.  We are good parents.”   

And every now and again, we get a glimpse of the fruits of our labor.  Our soon to be ninth grader came home from highschool church camp this week.  It was her first time with the youth… who unashamedly pour out their hearts (and sins) for all to hear and forgive en masse.  The camp speaker called on the girls to forgive their father’s…. and 2/3 ran to the altar to pray.  Our daughter was shocked.  Her sheltered eyes were opened.  She had no idea of the circumstances that most teenagers live in today.  Her heart broke for them.  She prayed for them. 

And then, glory be, she came home and told us that she didn’t realize how awesome her parents were.  WHAT?  You’re not supposed to figure that out until you’re 27 and having your own kids.  DUH!  Why do you think we ride you like a drill sergeant?  Make you do chores?  Ask you to pray?  Teach you God’s rules from the Bible?  Drag you to serve Thanksgiving dinner to those without family??? 

Anyway, we know there is an uphill battle for each kid that parents wage for many years.  We’re in for the long haul.  Pray!  Pray!  Pray!