West Virginia Camping. Guns and Fireworks.

Over Columbus day weekend, two of my friends and I went camping. The location - wild and wonderful West Virginia.

Not sure what is more wild, West Virginia, or Lauren. 

The whole adventure started off with a travel voucher. After working at a desk job all summer, I was feeling a tad dissatisfied with the lack of adventure I had provided for myself that summer. So when I saw a discount for a New & Gauley River Adventures two-night camping and white water rafting, it seemed to be just the thing to spice things up a little.

So I did what any adrenaline seeking, confident adventurer would do, I asked my friends to please buy this voucher with me because I wouldn't do it alone.

After hearing yes's from a few, I decided to jump right in, shirk my newly found boring desk job personality and seek out some rapids to raft.

Fast forward a few weeks. I find out none of my friends bought the voucher and I can't return it. So after being ditched by those jerks, I decided that I was going to be committed to going, after all there was no reason I couldn't be the adventurous heroine of my life.

Fast forward a week or two. I realized the fear of dying in bear attack alone was greater than my zeal for adventure. So I asked my former roommate and friend, Jen Yoo, to accompany me.

Reassuring. 

After making a call to New & Gauley River Adventures to make a reservation I discovered that the camping people were lenient on who pitches a tent on their property. And I also found out that the voucher I bought was for West Virginia. Not Virginia. Surprise.

So Lauren was invited because all of our roommates had weekend plans except for her.

So my camping team was assembled.

What could go wrong with these two by my side?

The departure date was set for Friday after everyone got off work.

After work that Friday, I rush back to my apartment to quickly pack. It was at that moment that I realized how cold it was going to be that weekend, how ill-prepared I was, how I didn't have appropriate clothing for white water rafting, and, finally, how I wasn't sure what food to cook that weekend.

Along with the fear of starvation and hypothermia came the realization that I didn't know how to get to New & Gauley River Adventures. That last thing could easily be solved. I quickly rushed to my computer and printed out mapquest directions.

Upon printing these directions I received a new surprise to the already surprise filled trip - this place was five hours away. Originally I had thought that it would take no more than three hours to get there.

So instead of calling the trip off Jen and I decided to move on forward, without telling Lauren how long it would take to arrive to our destination.

Two hours into our trip we stopped at Cookout in Harrisonburg, VA to have dinner with some friends. That is when we broke the news to Lauren that we still had three hours to drive instead of one! Surprise! Best camping trip ever! She handled it really well, even though she has still not forgiven us.

We arrive to the place around 1 a.m. after driving through a ghost town from a horror movie.

We quickly make note of the welcome sign advertising fine burritos, the many many cars, and many many tents and realize that we are not going to be alone on this trip like we had originally thought. Bear attacks would not be a relevant fear that weekend.

Thank goodness we found a place that sold fine burritos. 

 We park the car and get out to gather our bearings. We are looking around, trying to soak it all in. Within the first minute out of the car we hear a gun shot and a person yelling, "Shoot, I've been shot!" That is when we knew that that was going to be the general theme of our whole weekend. Gunshots and crazy characters.

With a little bit of uncertainty, we walked around to find the prime place to pitch a tent. We found a spot between three trees and right next to the bar and restaurant, which was another part of camping we did not expect.

Little did we know we were breaking the rules.

What are they going to do? Tow us?

That night the bar, seen in the background of the picture, yes it's an outdoor bar, played music well into the morning, like 4:00 a.m. Then, at approximately 3:30 a.m. there were more gunshots and fireworks and a voice yelling, "wake up campers!" In that moment I was so certain I was going to die.

Luckily, we survived through the night and Jen made us breakfast.

The headlamp is a fashion accessory. 

Once we had eaten breakfast, Jen and Lauren escorted me to my solo white water rafting trip, because all my friends ditched me.

I was feeling pretty nervous about the whole experience until I found out I rent a wet suit. With the rental wet suit, I began to regain some of my confidence.

Jen made fun of me while I put the wet suit on. 

That newly gained confidence soon eroded after I had put on my wet suit and Jen and Lauren left me alone. All the rafters gathered at the bottom of the stairs and attendance was taken. Attendance went a little like this:

"McDonald, party of 8?" "Smith, party of 2?" "Martinez, party of one? One really? No one else is with you? And your helmet is on backwards."

So after being shamed for being alone and for putting my helment on backwards, I was starting to slightly question this adventure I had chosen to embark on.

Then came the safety talk. One of the instructors outlined all of the ways we would die. Getting stuck under the raft, being sucked under rocks that were undercut, falling out of the boat and into more rapids. I forgot to listen to the how to survive those situations part because I was overwhelmed by the fact that I was going to die.

The moment I realized I maybe wouldn't survive white water rafting. 

A forty-five minute bus ride up the side of mountain later, we were at our location. I was in a raft with two married couples. Being a fifth wheel quickly became one of my stronger qualities.

Some other people that went on this trip: a bachelor party (this party also shot guns until 4:00 a.m.), three french guys, two couples (whom I was with), and male members of a family.

After going over the first rapid, and crying inwardly a little, I realized that I probably wouldn't die and decided to relax and enjoy the trip.

Our raft guide was named Skip. He has been guiding rafts for 35 years, essentially since the commencement of the the industry. He was a true West Virginia character, with a long ponytail, an earring and wool socks. On our trip he told us stories about moonshine and the best practices for soaking fruit in moonshine. He pointed out different areas and told us the history behind them, even though most times he made it up. He let us do things that other raft guides don't do because they are younger and care more about the lives of their rafters.

Overall, the white water rafting experiences was one of the best of my life. It was a huge accomplishment and I still can't believe I went through some of the rapids I went through.

The reward for the rafters making it out alive was a beer for all. No worries, I did not partake in this tradition. However, I did enjoy the game they played on the way back - taking a drink every time they saw a trailer.

I returned to the Fine Burrito camping place extremely cold and accomplished.

While I was out adventuring, Jen and Lauren took a walk, played some cards, took some naps, and ate multiple meals.

100th meal of the day.

The walk. 

Some Karate Kid exercises. 

A camping site Jen and Lauren found. Dresser and all. 

After their walk and my white water rafting, we decided to head over to the bar and restaurant to finally try some of the fine burritos. We ate the burritos so fast we didn't get pictures. My burrito had sweet potatoes in it, definitely a new experience. A fine one.

Luckily, there is a picture of this. 

After finishing our dinner and bonding with some fellow diners over a fumble in a football game, we went back to the tent and tried to get warm.

Fire in a tent is always a good idea, right?

We found out Lauren was going to have a new baby nephew, we talked about the movie Pitch Perfect and Jen told us bedtime scary stories.

We tried to sleep. There many gunshots, fireworks, and drunken shouts. Then the bar decided to play some comedy show tracks. Quality bedtime serenity.

The next morning we woke up, said good bye to our neighbors, and put away our little tent.

Our show-off neighbors, who needs tents that big?

Our two person tent, where three people slept. 

Where our tent used to be. 

An awesome campfire someone had made. 

Good times were had in the tent. 

In all our glory. 

Then to finish is it up, we had a breathtaking drive home with the beautiful West Virginia scenery. Jen took a picture of literally everything, the Pizza Hut, the gas stations, trees, trees, and more trees.

Most times the pictures Jen took weren't all that focused. 

And, as if things couldn't get better, we encountered and photographed a motorcycle gang on our way home.

As a group.

And individually. 

They can use the HOV lane.

He was cold. 

It was a phenomenal weekend. We learned very little about camping, but we enjoyed the gunshots, fireworks, and stories. Thanks for the experience West Virginia.

Twas the night before my internship...

So tomorrow I end my winter break and head back to the ever friendly northern portion of the Commonwealth of Virginia. I've dreaded a lot of things in my life, but this one has a particular unsettling feeling. It's a premonition that it's going to be a little rocky. But these feelings aren't coming out of no where. Let me tell you a little story of how it all started.

So last year I was in this program called Cornerstones. It was promoted as a first year experience which promoted hands on teaching and learning and small class sizes. Sounds ideal right? Well it wasn't. We took field trips to the woods to sketch what we saw. And one of my teachers told the class there was feces in tap water. There were no tests and almost all assignments were group projects. We also had reflection papers for literally every single thing that we did in that class. You showed up to class? Write a reflection paper on your experience. You read a one page article on global warming? Write a five page reflection. You took a field trip to a farm and took a hay ride? Write a reflective memoir. So you get the gist, it's basically like middle school but you pay thousands of dollars for it. And not middle school like the academic part, but middle school when everyone is trying to figure out who they are and going through puberty at the same time. So I guess you could say that Cornerstones was like going through puberty.

From the Mason website. None of this happened in real life.

What Cornerstones was really like. 

Anyway, I promptly dropped out of the program after my first year experience was over. I mean who wants to go through puberty more than two times? Cornerstones emails students information about the university. (Did you like the transition between thoughts?) This past semester I received another email from the bleeding hearts that are Cornerstones. It was about an internship. The internship is called the Study of the United States Institute. SUSI. I thought it was pronounced sushi, like the dish, but it's Susie, like the person. The email described SUSI as a program which allowed students from Bolivia, Peru and another country which I can't remember, maybe Paraguay, to come to George Mason and learn about leadership and community development and familiarize themselves with American government. A requirement was that interns and mentors be able to speak fluent spanish.

So maybe it was my latin blood that drew me to this internship. But I filled out the application, I interviewed and I received a position. A little less than a month ago, there was an orientation for this institute. I pictured the orientation going a little bit like this: Hello, this is what the institute aims to do, these are your responsibilities, these are the activities, this is the mission statement of our program, these are the logistics, and this is a schedule.

This is how the orientation went: Sorry I gave you the wrong room number, glad you found the place. The man in charge is running late. Here is a packet, read it in silence while we wait. (20 minutes later) Okay, he's not showing up, let's get started. Here's the schedule, read it in silence. (15 minutes later) Man shows up. "We are going to have to change everything, there need to be major changes, the funding has changed. Change the schedule now. Do we have a 90 person reservation for the last meal? How do you connect to the internet? Let's find an ethernet cord." (30 minutes later) This is main thing we need to discuss, it breaks my heart to have to say this, but it is a rule, I just wish it wasn't this way. You can't fall in love during this internship. Also no alcohol. Meeting over.

So I walked away from this orientation not knowing what the heck SUSI does. And also being told that I can't fall in love. I don't have an issue with that instruction. I do, however, have an issue with the fact that these people think that falling in love is something which undoubtedly happens and needs to be addressed. That's when I realized that this internship was going to be like puberty all over again.

So those are a few of the reasons why I'm dreading the beginning of this internship. Also, I lost the folder they gave me during orientation. Oops. And another also, the people let us know very last minute that we weren't going to be staying at the hotel on campus and that we had to find our own housing. So I am going to be doing a lot of house jumping.

I'm leaving tomorrow morning. There are a few things that I have done to prepare myself for the upcoming weeks.

Stress relief and quiet moments tea, necessary.

I've drank a lot of stress relief tea. And a lot of Cozy Chamomile in hopes my stress toward this internship will be relieved and that I may have quiet moments. Didn't know tea could do this, did ya?

Last supper...at home (not funny right?)

My mom prepared me my final home cooked meal for a while. It's ethnic. My latin blood got me into this, and it'll get me through this. Maybe something I should do tonight is pack. 

Can't wait for the awkwardness and general chaos that will begin tomorrow!

Gini Happiness Index

When the United Nations gets together to discuss human rights, they judge countries on human rights by different methods. They include social and economic equality. One method which I recently learned about is the Gini Happiness Index. This is an index which uses a nations happiness to indicate whether it is developed/developing.

One would assume that a nation that is happy is developed, right? Surprisingly, (at least to me) it's the opposite. The sign of a developed nation is a lack of happiness. According to this happiness index, the higher economic prosperity, middle class lifestyle, the more a person will want. It's the general, once you get something you just end up wanting something more. When a person sets a goal, reaching the American Dream (white picket fence, stable job, family, blah, blah) and they obtain it, then there is a sense of dissatisfaction. When we get something that we want, then we want more. When we reach our goals we are unhappy.

It is a cycle that is continual. You know, the definition of cycle, continuous. So I guess my question is, is anyone ever happy? Ever? I mean you set a goal, obtain it and then you are unhappy or you set a goal, you don't reach it and then you are unhappy and disappointed. And in this case I don't think that there is a median gray area. In most situations there are gray (or do you spell it grey? I NEED TO KNOW!) areas, but not with the Gini index, which in case you hadn't figured it out is a metaphor for life.

I just want to know if we are ever satisfied with the lives that we lead. Because this is what I've been feeling, I've been feeling a little tired of school, I've been feeling like what I'm doing now has little significance. So I am dissatisfied. The more I have, the more I want. So the Gini Happiness Index is true.

Now that we have that established, the next question is where do we go from there? If we know that we have a tendency to be unsatisfied, how do we deal with it? How will I deal with it?

The importance in life is to find a passion. To figure out what the heck we care about. Then from there we do things in order to put that passion into action. We find purpose and we dedicate our life to do what we love for the ones we love. So I guess I'm still trying to get through this stage in life. Which is actually your whole life.

And then once I am dead I will know that though it wasn't easy, I live my life for something that I loved. Even though there were moments when I was unsatisfied and craved more.

Those are my thoughts.

Why do we eat Judy Dolls?

I don't know if this is something that I should be ashamed of or not. I watch Grey's Anatomy. And I love it. A lot. It's the one show that has makes me cry. All the time. Like a little baby. Like a teenage girl. Like a pregnant woman. So I am all three ages and stages in one when I watch this show.  I am an emotional mess and it's probably the reason why I lose so many friends when they watch Grey's with me. And it's how I will know who my future hubby will be. It is at those Grey's watching moments that I am my worst. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. But if he can stick it out through that, then he can stick it out through pretty much anything. So anyway, it's my obsession. I like it. A lot. And I don't just throw that around.

Moving on from my hysteria over the show. I am currently watching it while studying for finals that I will fail. I watched the Enough is Enough episode. In this episode there is a guy who eats judy dolls.

Judy is so cute. 

I mean I've eaten some things that could be considered weird. Pennies, dog food, George Mason food, just kidding George Mason food is good. But the things that I ate, I could swallow, easily. The guy in this show swallowed Judy doll heads. Like Barbie doll heads. Swallowed them. Whole. With hair. And if you think that it's just a show, it's not a big deal. You are so, so wrong. This show has meaning and depth. Put aside the senseless sex and sometimes lack of common sense and intense fear of relational commitment for just a second and you have a show that is an observation of the complexity of human nature. Or maybe you could argue that those things just add to the complexity. So there. The fact that this man swallowed Judy Dolls, is important.

Obviously the question at hand is why the h would he swallow ten Judy doll heads. I mean it can't feel pleasant. Have you ever tried swallowing a Barbie doll head? Not an easy task my friend. Not even in the show. So even the sex driven, common sense lacking surgeons question the motives that this man had to ingest doll heads.

Yummy right?

Toward the end of the show, after they had removed the doll heads from the man's stomach, he somewhat answered the question of why he swallowed those doll heads. Once his tummy was doll head free, he said that he felt empty. First of all, he feels empty because ten doll heads is a lot.

But it goes a lot farther than that. The reason why this man ingested these doll heads is to make himself feel full. To avoid the sinking sensation of being empty.

So what does being empty feel like? It's those moments in life when you are worn out and exhausted. When you are at your limit and you honestly feel like you can do no more. When you are running/living on absolutely nothing. That's the feeling of being empty. It's a scary feeling. A feeling that I would do anything to stay away from.

So why do we eat Judy dolls? The same reason that we give ourselves away, the same reason that we turn to other things that numb us from the world. Because sometimes we think that living with the guilt is better than living with the emptiness. But in the end this is a no win situation. The things that you take, use, eat to get away from the emptiness end up hurting you just as much if not more. The Judy heads may have taken the man away from the emptiness but they also put his life in danger. And the emptiness,  the Judy dolls themselves are just as scary.

The Judy dolls themselves are weird and uncomfortable and don't make anyone feel good. So this is what it comes down to. What we rely on, the Judy doll heads, don't make us feel better and the emptiness is too scary to deal with. So what the heck does that leave us with?

I'll tell you what that leaves me with. It leaves me with nothing. I have nothing to fix the emptiness. I have nothing to make it better. I am useless. And that has been a hard lesson to learn. So when I am not enough, that would seem like the end of a hard fight, right? But that's not the case, when we have nothing  what does that leave us with? It leaves us with the love of a forgiving and redeeming friend. A love that heals. A love that fills the emptiness. A love that we have never known. A real love.

Can you imagine that? Something so great that takes away the pain? Takes away the feelings of our inadequacies? So instead of ripping dolls heads off and eating them to feel full, what if we turned to this love?

And here's the hardest concept of all. We can. We have this love at our fingertips, we can use it to heal our pain. But we don't. Why? Why can't we use this love? What is this anyway?

This love is the love of our eternal unfailing friend, our passionate and caring lover, and our stable, unchanging, always loving, and forgiving Father. It is the love of God. So why can't we accept it? Why do we not turn to this when we are hurting? Why is it so hard to believe that we have a Father who always loves and forgives?

This is something that has been on my heart a lot recently. And no matter how much I think about it, no matter how much I talk about it, discuss it, question and search for an answer, I can not find one. Why can't we accept love that is being given to us? Why are we obsessed with hurting? I don't know that anyone really knows.

Maybe it's because it is so hard to love ourselves, that we find it difficult to believe that someone else could love us.

Maybe it's because we have been disappointed so much, that investing in just one more relationship is too painful.

Maybe it's because we are too used to being the only ones we can rely on, the fact that there is someone else is unreal.

Maybe it's because our lives have been fairly simple to this point. We don't feel a need for a loving Savior.

Maybe it's because the concept is too scary.

Or maybe it's just easier to not.

Whatever it is, the empty feeling will always, always be the most terrifying feeling. And whatever it is, the things that we use to solve the emptiness will never be enough.

So maybe the first step is admitting that we eat doll heads. We use other things to solve the emptiness. Are those things working? Are we aware of the emptiness? How much pain will we have to go through until we begin to consider love as a solution?

Confessions of a Teenage Homecoming Queen.

So the secret is out. People have found out. And I will never be able to go back. I was one of the girls who wears a crown and a sash in front of a football stadium. So judge me. So scoff at me. So walk in front of a moving car. Because everyone hates the homecoming queen, right Emily Osment?

And I get it. I understand where it all comes from. And I understand why people are surprised when they flip through a few facebook pictures and see the boutonniere that is bigger than my face pinned to my dress. And I get why it's funny to say, "So I saw that you were the homecoming queen."  Because I hate school dance and crowns too. My senior homecoming was the first school dance that I went to. And that was a little bit out of obligation.

Oh wait, forgot about eighth grade finals. But was middle school even real life? Don't think so.

Remember this?

In mid September I went back down to the Valley for my high school's fiftieth celebration. And I had some time to reflect on the time that I held the crown. It's taken me two years, but I'm finally aware of the way that my school and community loved me. I am humbled at the fact that I was chosen to be queen. Not in a the, gee didn't see that coming, I'm going to cry on the football field sort of way. But in a truly moving, the Lord is glorified sort of way.

Lately I've been learning the difference between oneself being glorified and Jesus being glorified. I truly believe that the reason that a crown was handed to me two years ago is because the kids at Fort Defiance are so attracted to the Love of an eternal, reliable, unwavering Father. Every community is yearning and hurting for someone to be kind, for someone to pour out love. They know that they want it, they don't know how to reach it. But out of instinct they turn to a God that they many times have never given any thought to. I am truly humbled. As believers of Christ we are called to be Jesus with skin on. Though we are far from being anywhere near that. We sometimes show some minuscule of amount of love that can transform a life. Because of our great love for our creator.

I grew up in the Shenandoah Valley, and though it may not be in the bible belt, it is a place where kids are raised knowing about God, but not really knowing about a relationship with God. People are placed in this area to show others what a relationship with God can do to a life. Two years later I realize that all Christians are called to be disciples. And I am humbled by the way that the Lord used me at Fort Defiance.

The year after I was queen, I came back to hand down the crown to someone else. That someone else was a beautiful girl, Kristy.

Kristy and Ronnie 2011 HC King and Queen

So from now on when people think it is humorous that I was homecoming queen, I won't have that small unsettling feeling. I realize now that whatever being homecoming queen may have meant in the past, it is different at Fort Defiance High School. At this school kids glorify things other than popularity and superficial beauty. They search for real beauty and the incarnation of a Jesus they don't even know they need.

So I was the homecoming queen. And I'm finally okay with that.

It's about to get real.

I didn’t realize that I had such self-confidence issues. But I found out. Big time.  The feeling of being inadequate is one that has been nagging at me very consistently lately. Poop. Like right now, and how I realize that I don’t have an art for taking words and making my emotions powerful statements conveyed through solely words. The feeling of inadequacy has partnered with a strange gripping fear of being lonely. Not lonely romantically, though that is inevitable as well, but friendship wise. I never feel like I contribute anything worthwhile to my friendships. And I always feel like gatherings/hangouts are better without me. I know, I know, no one wants to come to pity parties. But this has been something that has been nagging me for over a year now. I go through periods of time where it’s worse. But this past week has been really rough. Frustrating and tiring and I’m getting a lot burned out. And I know the answers and solutions. God loves me, He is my friend. Because I have this love I should not be fazed by other little things. But what I have come to learn is that community is such a huge, essential part of maintain a continually growing relationship with the Lord. And to this day I still feel like I lack an unwavering community. I just feel so out of place so often. I feel like a hindrance. I know that my place is here; my role is defined, not by myself, but by my Creator. It has just been so hard to feel comfortable lately. And it is exhausting to shake it off every time, of keeping this feeling hidden and hope that it goes away. Because I’m starting to learn that it won’t go away. I struggle with the need to be wanted and loved. This struggle is what pushed me first away from God and my family, and later pulled me closer to them. So this is something that I deal with. All the time. It’s not a temporary thing, and it’s not a small thing. I take things and blow them up, and cling to them, I view things as empirical evidence to my lack of good qualities, my lack of relevancy, my intimidating humor, as evidence showing that people get exhausted by me and don’t want to hang out. And it’s a small thing, really. But it is something that I struggle with. So though it is small, it consumes me. I am starting to learn this

 

Why I Would Clean Dishes Forever.

So much of my life is full of this ministry. Young Life is an incarnational ministry that focuses on youth. We go to where kids are and walk with them in hope that one day our efforts will allow them to hear and live the gospel. Young Life is composed of people who volunteer, volunteer to go to football games, to listen to kids, to drive around for hours, to care, and people who use their passion for Christ to overflow His love into sin-filled schools around the nation.

In high school I was befriended by my Young Life leaders. And I enjoyed and grew from their presence in my life. Once I graduated high school I confidently knew that Young Life would no longer play a role in my life. Going in to college I wanted something that would push me and allow me to grow in ways that I didn't in high school. I wanted a new community and a fresh start, and I had no room for YL in my new life.

The summer after I graduated high school I was accepted to do work crew. Work crew is when high school kids go to a YL property for a month and serve campers that come every week. Some of the jobs include: washing dishes, housekeeping, cleaning bathrooms and showers, laundry, cooks, bakers, servers, and people who maintain the landscape of the property.

YL Work Crew/Summer Staff  This shows a little bit about what work crew is.

It is hard work, and it is every day from early in the morning until relatively late. Not necessarily the most conventional way to spend a summer. I had only applied because my leaders had continued to ask me to. I figured once the application was complete, then work crew could be something that I could forget about forever. 

But once I found out that I had received a spot, I knew that I would end up going. I had a sense of obligation. That feeling, I now realize, was not my own, but the Lord pressing upon me. I went into work crew completely opposed to befriending new people. I saw that month as a month of service. My role was to serve well and nothing more. I would perform my job exceptionally well, and then at the end of the month I would return home. No new friends. That was my plan. Clearly I was optimistic.

The bridge that campers cross from cabins into the main camp. 

I had made arrangements to ride up to Lake Champion, New York with two other people also serving on work crew. Two other strangers. Two strangers that I judged. Severely. Oops, #didn'tmeantodothat. What I found from closely scrutinizing their lives (facebook pictures, same thing right?) only served to confirm my ill sentiment toward work crew. Some of my most damning evidence included pictures from a hookah bar and the presence of various solo cups. I named my road trip partner hookah boy. I took hookah boy to be the poster child for a majority of people who do work crew/young life/all Christians but me (small category right?). The other portion of participants were just overzealous and overwhelming.

The first day of work crew, after the car ride with my new best friends, we were put straight to work. Cleaning the dining hall that we would be working in for a month. My first interaction with these people is a story that Kelly John still loves to bring up. We were sitting at a table folding napkins into fancy shapes for the next day's meal. Every once in a while we would run out of napkins to fold and someone would run into a closet to replenish our stock. After the third time we ran out, I decided that I would be the one to go grab more napkins. I came back with table cloths and everyone laughed. Jerks. Hate them all. To this day. But really I just brought back the table cloths and then Kelly went back and got napkins. That's where our friendship started.

                                                                     Isn't that right Kelly?

                                                                           
Throughout the rest of the month I would meet lots of interesting characters. And when I say interesting, I mean freaks. Freaks and geeks. The first week of work crew was a little rough. I wanted to go home and spend time with my mom and my sisters and my friends before I left for college. Forever. I couldn't shake the feeling that Champion wasn't the place where I needed to be, where I was supposed to be. I knew that I didn't want to be friends with any of these people.

But it wasn't long before I began to question my strong conviction to be friendless. I mean when you live with people and see them every single moment of every single day, it's hard not to learn about each other. And to... care.

The second night we were at Champion all the girls in our cabin sat on the floor and ate puppy chow. The dog food. Kidding. The cereal snack. It was that night that Shelby Phelps/Morris gave us silly bands. She said that her mom gave her the silly bands so she could make friends. I got a light blue wand silly band. Taking one of those was like signing a contract. If you take a silly band you are friends. Those things are serious, you can't break them. In reality it was just a natural human reaction to crave friends and company. I was fighting my nature when I made a vow with myself to not make friends. Does that make sense?

The silly band Shelby gave me. Since it's broken, does that mean we don't have to be friends anymore?

Young Life camps have a lot of themed nights. The first one that we got to experience as a group was western night/hoedown throw-down/rodeo/everybody wears plaid night. And you know in middle school at the end of the year when there's the formal dance? And awkward pre-teens show up in clothes they wouldn't normally wear. And they all dance ten feet away because there are a ton of parent chaperones. And the chocolate fountain is the biggest attraction. You know what I'm talking about? That's what our hoedownthrowdown/western/southern/everybody wears pigtails night felt like to me. 

This is the attire one wears to western/BBQ/everybody rides bulls night. 

The rodeo/cornbread/everybody chew hay night goes like this. Kids come to a big field and play games that the cowboys used to play way back when. Like dizzy bat and shovel racing. Work crew is there to serve an authentic version of a western meal. This was the first meal that we could all sit not at tables. And where ever we wanted. Watch out world. 

Here's a little secret, an insight to the life that I live. I'm not good at making friends. I hate going through the process of making friends. It's probably a hidden emotional scarring from my preschool years. But the fact remains that I get extremely uncomfortable, extremely quickly. So I sat with Kelly (she just wanted to make fun of me again) and Aly, my side bunkmate. And you know in middle school when you get silent lunch because your forgot to get your test signed? When you sit at a table silently while everybody else laughs and eats? You know what I mean? That's a little bit how that meal felt. I know I made this whole thing up in my head, but it seemed like all the girls were sitting together and laughing and becoming best friends, while I kept dropping corn bread in my lap. So even though I wanted to not make friends, I really, really did want to. 

Here's the thing. Being at Champion was a combination of time going by really quickly and really slowly at the same time. So I can't pinpoint when it happened exactly, but we all became invested in each other. Maybe it was the night that everyone laid on the pavement and star gazed. Or the night that we all played fugitive. Maybe it was when everybody would chant Jessica! Jessica! and jazzercize at the same time. Or maybe it was the day that we were all saying good bye that we realized how important we had become to each other. And maybe some of us already had a loving heart and came to work crew ready to be invested in each other (not me). But what matters is, by the middle/end/beginning of our time together we became more than friends and more than family. We knew more about each other than most other people in our lives do. We became brothers and sisters in Christ, and we lived that out. So I don't know when I realized that I liked these people, even hookah boy. But it happened. When your hearts are set on Christ, Christ becomes the strongest bond. Stronger than silly bands. 

So basically after pistol shooting/western/everybody line dances night these people became my best friends. Just like that. Really. 

These are my friends. See what I mean by freaks?

Now that I had all these new friends, I also had all of these new stories/memories. Some of my favorite memories:

The best meal: The best meal I ever had at work crew had nothing to do with the food. But if you must know, it was chicken patty day. Chicken patties with waffle fries. The reason that meal was so great was because of the people. There was this kid from North Carolina (South? Not important). His name was Kurt. He had no friends. Kidding. Kurt had a strong character. What I mean by that is that he had a quiet, firm demeanor. He seemed calm and in control. But he never laughed at my jokes. So he had no sense of humor. And he wasn't funny. That is what I had gathered. And we all know how great I am at being a judge of character. 

Then there was another kid. He had his ears gauged. His name was Wes. Fun fact, at work crew Wes's ears got infected. At first Wes was a little intimidating. But in reality he was fun and funny and great. 

Then there was Kelly. She was extremely sassy. 

This is a picture of Wes. Taken yesterday. Or in middle school 

This is Kurt. He has bad eyesight.

And you know Kelly already. 

So we all happened to randomly sit next to each other during this meal. Just from the pictures can't you tell this is a hilarious bunch? I don't remember what was said, or what insults may have been thrown out by all parties, but this lunch was the hardest that I laughed. That day. Or maybe to this day. The great thing about this lunch, aside from the fact that it was a comedy show, was the realization that I belonged among these people who are pouring their hearts out into everyone around them, because they can't contain the love they have for Jesus. So maybe work crew was what God wanted me to do. And these people helped me realize that. 

Favorite activity: Another great memory was when Katy and I destroyed public property. 

This is Katy. She was the homecoming queen!

Katy and I were both servers. After we had finished setting tables for dinner everyone had some free time. Katy and I stayed back. She was taking pictures of the process for setting a table, and since my hands are so perfect in every way, she was using them. Then Katy came up with an idea. Wouldn't it be cool if the plate was broken and then the pieces were put back together? So we snuck back into the kitchen. (We opened the door and walked in). We took a plate and we went out to the woods behind the gym. There we attempted to break a plate multiple times. Who knew those plates were so durable? Finally we threw the plate against a rock and then it broke. We went back in the dining hall and took pictures. Then Nina, our dining hall intern, walked out. Nina could be a little bit scary. She wanted us to serve and serve well. She held us accountable. So is breaking a plate in the woods serving well? Nope, it sure is not. So we had a few options. My idea was to run to the boys bathroom and hide. Katy's idea was to tell Nina what we were doing. It turns out that Nina was fine our vandalizing activitites. Anything for art right? 

This memory is one of my favorites because of the conversations that Katy and I were able to have while breaking the law (or maybe just breaking a plate). This is also the moment when I realized that I am someone who judges harshly and swiftly. And when I judge I am so self-righteous about the judgement. When I first met Katy I didn't think that I could ever be close with her, but she was one of the people that I felt I got the closest to during that month. And when I saw Nina coming toward u, I assumed that we would be lectured. Nina had high expectations of us while serving because she knew that we were not serving her, we were not serving the campers, but we were serving Christ.

The tables that we cleaned, served, and set three times a day.

Favorite Days Off: Once a week, on the day that campers would go home we would get a day off. There are two days off that I hold near and dear. On one day we drove to a mall to go watch a movie. The mall that we went to had a curfew. People under 18 could not be out after a certain time. Our group arrived at the mall well after that time. Kids who do work crew are in high school. So a lot of us weren't 18 yet. Babies. Thomas was one of these babies.

This is our little baby, Thomas.

When someone is under 18 and there is a curfew, the only reasonable thing to do is make fun of them, right? And here's the thing, Thomas is great to make fun of. He handles berating rather well, and can even play along. So Katy and I viewed his age as a golden mocking opportunity. And maybe Katy was being a little loud. And maybe a mall cop was walking by. And maybe we got carded. And maybe Thomas was almost kicked out. Another fun story about Thomas, he dove in the lake and split his head open. And then on the car ride home from the mall everyone got car sick. So serious. 

My second favorite day off was our last day off. At Lake Champion we are surrounded by perfection. That day, instead of packing, Katy and I decided to take advantage of the lake. We took a canoe and followed people that were kayaking to the other side of the lake. We canoed over a small dam and pulled up to land.

Where we lived for a month. 

We had kicked our shoes off. Everyone wanted to go exploring. So we went on a barefoot walk through the woods. On our way back I shared the story of how I learned to accept the love of Christ in my life with Jake. Before everyone came to work crew, we were supposed to write down our testimonies and give them to one of our work crew bosses. I knew the moment when I had become a Christian, I knew the moment when my burdens were no longer mine. But I had never shared that moment. So I didn't write mine down. I felt that my story was mine, and that I didn't have to share it. I mean that moment was  between me and my Savior, it wasn't a moment between me and my mom, or me and fifty kids that signed up to volunteer. 

One morning I began to write down my testimony. I knew the story, the place, the time and the moment in which the way I was focusing my life changed. But I hadn't realized that there were so many things that led me to that specific moment. Until I started to write, I hadn't acknowledged that my family was what drove literally every single thing I didn't. Until I started to write I hadn't comprehended how much I idolized volleyball, how much it wholly consumed me. So it turns out that I didn't understand my full testimony until one morning at work crew. Because this was the first time that I had been able to process, my testimony wasn't something that I was keen on sharing. Maybe part of that was because of my reluctance to make friends. I had no problem hearing other people's stories. They wanted to share. They had basically memorized what they were going to say. And I hate sharing. Anything. Toys, food, clothes, happiness, memories. But really this story was the most raw thing that I had to myself. It is such a personal thing to share. Personal as in seeing someone naked, that kind of personal. 

During that hike was the first time that I fully shared all of my story. I had done a good job of avoiding the when people asked. That moment was when my heart was ready. Throughout the month I had been learning that my story is not really my own. The story that I am a character in belongs to someone greater. I was learning how sharing can encourage growth and can heal others. This lesson hit its' pinnacle during that walk. After that I was able to truly connect with others because I could share how God had worked in my life with my fellow work crew friends.

Worst serving experience: On the last day we were all cleaning the camp, getting it ready for another cycle of campers and another set of work crew. On that day the new work crew kids started to come, and many of them were helping us out. As a server I set the tables every day. I handled the plates everyday. I had not unintentionally broken a single plate all month. Until the last day. When I broke eight. All at one time. So this was my worst memory. This moment served to show me that even though my goal was to be this excellent server and nothing more, I was far from that. And all of my fellow servers didn't yell or chastise me for breaking the plates, they helped me clean. Funny how things work out in the end right?

These are all the servers. After a long, hard day of work. 

Favorite cleaning memory: On that same last day Katy and I (I promise I made other friends) were cleaning the girls bathroom. We thought that the center of the bathroom had a drain, so we dumped water on the floor of the bathroom to clean it. Turns out it wasn't a drain. Oops. While we were busy mopping up the pond we had created, Gretchen walked in to the bathroom to help. She brought us cereal that we ate. In the bathroom. Healthy and clean right? 

Our friendship was meant to be. 

I hadn't really gotten a chance to know Gretchen that well through the month. But while we were hanging out in a flooded bathroom I realized how funny and genuine Gretchen was. And though we were leaving that day, and though we hadn't gotten to know each other extremely well, I knew that Gretchen was a true friend. The Lord is so good for putting these incredible people in my life!

Each person affected my life in such a special way. I think about my work crew family often. It was at this place that I learned what community was. It was at this place that I learned that walking with Christ is hardly ever easy, but alway fulfilling, always right, always the only way to live a life. It was at this place that I had the most real conversations. It was at this place where the Lord called me to put away my obsessions and into ministry. So I think about my work crew family all the time. Because they gave me the strength to go back into a secular and hurting world. Because they encouraged me and grew me. Because they love the Lord.