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Camp Selah (pronounced by these particular parishioners "SEE-lah") is a tiny little camp on the shores of a manmade lake at the foot of Mount Tully, and I spent the better part of two weeks there. The church I've moved to runs a two-week day camp there, but there are cabins and a main lodge and a bath-house, so most of the staff (and some staff-related kids) stayed overnight.
I'm not going to lie. I missed my new bed.
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But . . . I'm really excited about working for the church. On Wednesday of the second week, about seven different incidents occurred all at once, and I had the combined dreaded yet strangely affirming experience of trying (alongside the young woman who's managed the camp the last few years) to enact a little discipline, and nip a few situations in the bud. They weren't very welcome situations, but I was encouraged to know I wasn't necessarily just going to cave in over everything. On the other hand, I had numerous moments of thinking, "What in the world am I doing? I don't know these people. They don't know me." It felt decidedly like culture shock and, also like culture shock, I suspect I'm going to feel like that on and off for a while as I learn the ropes.
The people are really lovely. They're warm and welcoming . . . and a little bit wrung out. The church hasn't had the easiest time in the last few years. That in itself is intimidating.
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But it isn't really about me, is it? I have a feeling I'm going to get reminded of that a lot over the next few months, in kind ways and difficult ones, whether I want to or not. For now, I might as well try not to take myself too seriously.
I don't think these guys would let me, anyway.
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Photos:
"Selah," "Muffin-bed," and "Wacky-Wednesday Kids" by jennw2ns 2008.
"Jennwith2ManyBells" might have been by Deb Parks. Or Jean Lunt. I can't really remember.
2 comments:
A new journey! A new story! And it begins with a great hat.
I love your bedspread, by the way.
Thanks, Heather. Wish the hat were mine. The bedspread is--was made by my grandmother, I believe . . .
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