We are in a time of change, now. I guess we are constantly in a time of change, but there are those times when you are prone to notice more often the changes around you. This could turn out to be the last week Josh has to mow the lawn if the temperature drops for good. It’s likely he’ll have to run the mower a little more, but it will become less and less of a full time responsibility for him until spring. A new duty arises quickly for the maintenance guys this time of year–leaf blowing. Every walkway, every parking area, the gazebo–it all has to be cleared. Wet leaves are a slip and fall waiting to happen. You don’t spend much time thinking about the things under your feet.
Then again, with all the acorns on the ground, you are encouraged to think about what you’re stepping on. Lots of things falling on the ground, and sometimes it’s tough to know if you’re stepping on something that it’s normal to step on or something you’d prefer not to be putting your weight on. Allyson, my wife, adores this time of year. She goes out walking on the black top to step on the acorns and hear the cracking noise it produces. I’m sure the squirrels don’t appreciate it too much, but I must admit the sound is almost hypnotizing.
It has been a week of odd jobs at Lakeshore. I’ve spent most of the week answering messages, producing information sheets, and answering phone calls. The phone has been ringing in such a way that you begin to wonder if you’ve gone into the future a few months, and we are closer to summer time than we think. I had the opportunity today to host the “Prime Timers,” from Murray First UMC. It’s a group of seniors that take fun and exciting trips together, and we had the pleasure of being their destination this time. I got to show them around the camp and even Pilot’s Knob. There were several couples in the group who had worked at Lakeshore in the 50s. I was fascinated to hear how the camp has changed. There was a couple who got together during a summer when they worked as waterfront directors. They met at Murray State beforehand. She had been trying to set her future husband up with her best friend. I guess they didn’t notice what was already happening at the time. They showed me a picture of them both on the waterfront, the summer they were just beginning on this this journey they’ve been on together now for over 50 years. That same ground under their feet that many of us have spent such sacred time on.
After they left, I was headed back to the Administration Building, walking a road that I can even remember being covered in trees and ground cover. I walked past the cabins that I can recall pre-air conditioning. The screen doors on a spring that would slam shut every time a camper ran out. I was not thinking about these things as I passed, though. There was a nice sized rock in the middle of the road, so I began the game that so many of us have played at camp and plenty of other places. I kicked the rock as far and as straight as I could. When I caught up to it, I kicked it again, trying for distance, but not so much distance that it left the road. I made it through about 3 kicks, then, for a moment I looked up at the sky, through the smattering of grey clouds, at the turkey buzzard hundreds of feet in the air and the quilt of browns, yellows, and reds starting to show up on the trees. When I looked back down around my feet, I couldn’t find the rock I had been kicking. So, I kicked a new rock.
These things right under our feet can keep us pretty busy. Sometimes, it’s all we can handle. There’s what is, what was, what is still in front of us. I think I like it, though–there is always enough for there to be more to see, more to look for, more to find. And, isn’t that exciting?
This weekend we have a conference-wide youth retreat. Lots of teenagers coming up looking for something(Who knows what?). Let’s hope they find something good. Be in prayer that they and their leaders find what God is putting out in front of them. And please, please, find some time to enjoy this fantastic weather we’ve got going on outside. You won’t be sorry (unless you slip and fall on an acorn).