Man, this week has seemed to fly by. It’s almost as if I wasn’t here on Monday. Here we are on Friday afternoon, and before long, I’ll be done with this week’s office work, moving on to welcoming a weekend youth group. I’m listening to baseball on the radio, and we’re in the 9th inning. It’s a close game, and the closer has walked to bases full. A squirrel somehow made it into the on deck circle and there was a standing ovation (you decide if it was for the squirrel or the late game dramatics). I’m sure there are lots of kids who were lucky enough to get out of class to watch this game. And, 10 years from now will they remember most that pop up that made the last out, or will they recall more when a fuzzy tailed rodent managed to make it to a part of the field that so many drunken fans failed to reach?
This week, we’ve had a wonderful group of volunteers up, renovating cabin 8. It was the only cabin left on our girl’s side without new paneling and paint. Cabin eight was begining to be referred to as “poor cabin 8,” because it looked so much older than the other cabins on that side of the camp. I know there are many who don’t want cabin 8 to change at all. They love it, cracked paneling, dark lighting, graffiti coated, and smelling slightly of mold. I guess it’s because of what we remember and want to remember. Or maybe it’s because of what we are afraid will be forgotten. The first year I came to camp there was no air conditioning in the cabins, only a box fan in the ceiling. There were only screen doors on each cabin. I’ve heard it was a big deal when Lakeshore finally decided to go to air conditioning. I imagine it changed the experience for many people who had been coming for a while. And, now it’s not even an afterthought. Few who come now regularly even know the cabins have changed that much, and I doubt it crosses their minds.
I’ve been working for the past few days on a map for our disc golf course. We are putting together information to give to our guests that will make the course more user friendly. Map making is a tough task. You have to know how to use space really well. You also need an eraser. I’m a little over halfway finished with the map, and even now, I don’t know if it will be any good to anyone. On top of that, I don’t know if it will be legible when we shrink it down to the right size. It’s hard to look at something and know what it will mean to other people. And, when you make something like this, you have so much information that you want to put into it. You usually realize that you can’t fit it all in–and if you tried, it would make things way too complicated. So, you figure out what matters most and hold onto that. I just hope that once I’ve decided it, my map doesn’t get someone lost in the woods.
It’s tough, sometimes, seeing things change or even trying to pick out what exactly was there. You’re a kid who’s only worried about when you eat or swim, and all of sudden you have important decsions to make that change it all. In the midst of all that, though, there is something new, something not yet known waiting to reveal itself. There are more wonderful things still. I passed cabin 8, scaffolding on the grass beside it, sawdust on the floor, the smell of new paneling on these walls–a whole new volume of stories to be written in these walls. After I passed the cabin, my view opened up to the river, and there was a tall blue heron standing on the edge of the dock looking out onto the still blue water.
This weekend, we have a youth group from Covenant UMC out of Memphis. Keep them in your prayers, so that their stay will be a good one. May your weekend be restful.