We made it, through every up & down, through every fit of giggles & every shake of tears. We have done what we set out to do.
Thanks, God, for soul friends & sunshine, for shared experiences, tears & laughter, for anger & joy & everything in between. Thank you for the depth of feeling we live into together.
(I wrote this in my journal on the last day of camp; it’s the most honest reflection I have of this past season.)
Summer always races past, even though the days feel impossibly long and full of work. I miss the sounds of the camp season, but honestly, it gets easier to leave it behind each year. Not because it’s not wonderful (it is), but because I feel more at peace with it. I learn so much each year, and I know the next summer will be here before I know it. Big shout out to my year round coworkers, without whom this job would be impossible. Bigger shout out to the summer staff, who constantly inspire me with their huge, brave hearts.
saved by grace, sent to serve, with good courage.
We are called to act with justice, we are called to love tenderly, we are called to serve one another, to walk humbly with God.
This autumn has been a whirlwind in the best and worst ways. I have been completely filled up with love through one of the most emotionally difficult months of our country’s recent history. I have had some incredibly encouraging conversations with dear friends and allies this month but still feel gutted by the knowledge that the president elect holds such deep oppressive values. I know we will keep fighting, together, but some days it feels difficult to have hope.
In the midst of this, I’ve been so grateful for new adventures to incredible places,
for the pure joy that comes with fresh snow,
for the wide open spaces of the wild,
and for all the places we call home along the way.
Remember that you are loved, important and worthy, today and always. Practice gratitude & be brave, babes.
It is hard to describe the emotions of a day here at camp, from stress to joy, from exhaustion to elation, from a centered heart to a scattered mind- each minute is different. At the end of each day,I usually sit and watch the lake for awhile, focusing on the joys of this place.
Lately I’ve been grateful for falling asleep after seeing these views,
and for waking up under the big sky.
For the tiny gifts that this earth produces with little help from us,
and for the people who I get to live out this wild summer alongside.
What are you thankful for today? Be brave, summer friends.
have you ever flushed a raven from a tree? heard it’s wings beating with such force against the blue sky? they don’t do anything quietly, always announcing themselves, taking up space, urgent in their requests and warnings. i’ve been watching them, studying persistence and learning to voice my own needs with clarity. to hear my own wings beating, commanding space, announcing my place. when was the last time you heard your own heartbeat? decide what you need
This Lenten season I’ve been trying to put my words on paper more often, and have been revisiting some old pieces of poetry to rework them and get my mind working again. This is for my parents.
My father burned 4 trees this season, the winter
unrelenting in its fury. The wood stove seizing any life
left from the logs, forcing heat out of bark and sap,
moisture cracking out of the crevices, echoing
inside the cast iron berth that hulks under
the mantle’s gaze.
You can smell the woodsmoke before you can see
the house. The trees funnel everything- the smoke,
the racket of spring peepers, the light at the end of day.
Sun and moon rise over the same mountain, cyclic,
like life in this hollow. Summers spent tending the earth,
winters spent burning pieces of it- the land keeping us.
Tonight while I sat on the cliff, watching the sun settle into the west, an eagle stirred and perched right above me, quietly watching the lakes surface, scanning for fish.
We’re not too different, he and I, looking for comfort in this beautiful world.
The snow is building up on the mountains, gently covering the pines. I drive up once or twice a week to walk around in wonder. Soon, it’ll be in the valley!
So thankful for this place, in all its seasons.
My life has felt a lot like this lately, darkness on both sides, but beautiful light before me every step. December has been full of grief: for the world, for friends, for the loss of someone dear to me. I have wept alone and with friends & struggled through terribly long work days but I’ve also seen some of the best in people during tough times and been gifted time to delight in the world around me.
Thankful for the highs and lows of life, and the reminder that love is bigger than all the hurt the world has to serve up.
Love to you all.