I’m constantly amazed (and baffled) at the ways God chooses to speak to us. Allow me to elaborate.
As you may know, I’ve spent the summer at Camp Sumatanga. Last week I heard a knock at my bedroom door around 2:30 am. I was informed that a camper was puking. That’s terrific news to be greeted with at 2 in the morning, isn’t it? I walk to the other side of the lodge to access the situation. This poor child’s bed is covered in vomit – pillow, down comforter, sheets, and teddy bear. It was taco salad night, so you can imagine how the scene might have looked. You’re welcome for that mental picture, by the way. I try to gather everything together in a garbage bag and plan to head to the washing machine. The camper quickly informs me that the teddy bear is very delicate and can’t be machine washed. I’ll give it to her- the bear did look rough (even without the puke). His name was Mr. Stufflekins.
After making up her bed with some camp linens, I headed to the bottom floor to do some late-night laundry. The bedding had to be put through three times before it was clean. By this time it was well after 3 and I really just wanted to go to bed. Besides, it was really creepy down there by myself. Then there was this bear. I grabbed some gloves, liquid detergent, and a rag and took Mr. Stufflekins to the sink. I scrubbed for a while, then did the sniff test. If it still smelled, I continued to scrub. Is that gross? Oh well. Delivering this puke-free teddy bear to this young girl was great motivation. And in this moment, I felt a sense of peace…a sense of confirmation…a sense of belonging.
I know it sounds strange. One of my biggest struggles over the past couple of years has been trying to find my place in ministry, as well as the institutional church. I’m not doubting that I’ve been called to a career in ministry, but I don’t know where I fit in. The original plan was to get an MDiv, become ordained, wear a cool robe, and be able to do cool things like bless elements and serve communion. The more time goes by, the more I drift away from this vision. I know many incredible people that have been called to this type of ministry, but I think my place is somewhere else…more of the down and dirty side of ministry. I stay pretty busy at camp. I lead crafts, folk dancing, the afternoon hike, play music at communion, and any random things that need to be taken care of. However, hanging out with Mr. Stufflekins was one of the most fulfilling jobs I’ve had.
The race is drawing very close. I’ll head to New York in nine days (Aug. 8th) and I’ll head to Ireland on the 11th. I’m nervous, but I know this is where I belong. We’re going to be with the poorest of the poor…the helpless…the hopeless…the Mr. Stufflekins of the world. And I know this is exactly where I’m supposed to be. Life is about to change forever.
