Gratitude

I got back from church camp on Friday around lunchtime. The week was full of bugbites, humidity, delicious food, swimming in a lake that turns everything brown, very little time alone, the danger of stinging nettles, and SO MUCH FUN! I can't think of a better way to say (a temporary) goodbye to Pine Valley and to coastal North Carolina. My cabin was full of wonderful, fun girls, the other counselors were a great help, and I never stop marveling at how smart, faithful, fun, and self-sufficient our youth are. Thank you, everyone at Pine Valley, for making the week and the past three years such a delightful and challenging experience.

One of the highlights of the week was serving communion on the dock. I'd served once before at church and loved it. You get to look each person in the eyes and say, "This is the body of Christ, broken for you." (Or, if you're serving the juice, "This is the blood of Christ, shed for you.") One kid had the kid behind him take a picture, with a flash, which threw me off and made me laugh. Alex was playing the guitar behind us for ambience. Randy was serving the grape juice to my left. A perfect evening. Does anyone know whether a Presbyterian pastor would be allowed to serve communion in that style (people come up to the front instead of staying in their seats)? I think so. I hope so.

It didn't hit me until the next day that I can look forward to doing that kind of thing in my regular life. This also happened the day I got my first acceptance to a seminary, when I went to an MFA event and a professor told me all about how he grew up in the church and what made him leave it. "I'm going to get to have conversations like this all the time!" I thought. What an honor.

As I prepare to move on Friday, my calendar is filling up with lunches and dinners and other last hurrahs. Another cause for great rejoicing; I have so many great friends and so many great places to go and enjoy unique food. As hard as it is to leave, I try to keep in mind that you don't cry because a chapter ends (unless, as Ashley pointed out, it's the chapter in Harry Potter where Dumbledore dies, even though in that case you're not crying just because the chapter's over). You process it and get excited about the next chapter. So instead of moping about leaving (mostly), I look at Richmond churches' websites and the YMCA yoga schedule and my school email account and everything else that helps me focus on the possibilities and the growth to come. And I thank God for everything.