There has been a lot of “camping” for the Franz family of late. My nephew spent his first week at the camp my brother and I went to growing up. Another section of the Continental Divide Trail was conquered by my brother and a bunch of his friends during their annual man trip into the wilderness. And I navigated my way thru the TN mountains to meet the individuals who will be shaping my life over the next year.
While the drive up I75 feels like it took place months ago, instead of two weeks to the day, I remember reflecting on the camp experiences that led up to this new, now old, one. There was the camp my nephew just attended. I don't recall how many summers I went there but I do remember many of the songs I learned (which ironically I was able to bust out in TN), my distain for succeeding at making Honor Cabin and having to trade my bunk bed for sleeping in a Tee Pee that smelled like pee from the boys who had it the night before, and jamming fingers on both hands in a fierce bout of tether ball (apparently my competitive streak surfaced early in life). Then there was the summer I spent working outside Westminster, CO with inner city youth. That summer brought the reality that I am really not too hot at jump rope, mac and cheese with hot dogs loses its luster sometime in late middle school/ early high school and that the sound of a young girls voice signing gospel will make me cry. In college my dear parents drove me across country to spend a month in MO working with Kids Across America; the branch of Kanakuk Kamps that focuses on inner city youth. While my jump rope skills were again solidified as lacking, this summer brought an awareness of my “inner black girl” as my campers called it. Apparently, when I lose myself in a little Kirk Franklin or Fred Hammond I have uncanny rhythm, for a white girl that is. Uncanny being my word because I can't recall the exact expression my 9 & 10 year old campers used…it usually took me about half an afternoon to figure out if a phrase was a compliment or a curse because the slang was so thick.
While each experience was uniquely its own there are a few common denominators that hold true — even through to this most recent WR Training Camp.
First off, camp is about shedding extra weight. The summer sun gets the process started by instigating a sweating process not otherwise experienced in AC land. Where perspiration releases the body of toxins, camp, in my life, has ushered in focused time to unload emotional and spiritual burdens onto shoulders far broader than mine. The first three days in TN were all about scraping away pretenses, the false strengths and getting down to what really will carry us through the next eleven months. An exhausting and beautiful process that left me chugging H2O physically and Living Water spiritually/emotionally.
Next, camp is about embracing differences and celebrating them. While I couldn't always understand their slang, I LOVE the little girls that came from inner city Denver, Michigan, Tennessee, Arkansas, etc. and taught me new ways to laugh, dance, cry, fight, and forgive. I still pray for a few of them by name because they marked me. At Training Camp, I interacted with the ~ 50 individuals that will comprise my Squad this coming year; they have already given me pause and asked me to rethink givens in my world. The staff and alumni racers spent considerable time pairing and re-pairing these 50 people in groups to assemble Teams. We participated in structured team building exercises to see how groups communicated, problem solved and handled conflict. We were also observed in unstructured settings like every single meal being served family style and reflecting a different culture. I am sure it was noted how I handled our Asia breakfast of broth, soggy noodles and WHOLE fish…it was, um, awesome. At the end of the process though we were each placed into a Team. These teams will serve as our families over the next year as we live in ongoing, never ending community. Talk about the opportunity to embrace differences and celebrate them! I've been placed on Team Nikao, see photo below, and I'll have more on the team in future posts but until then please pray for these folks, they are a special part of this journey.
Finally, camp is about relationship. My nephew was none too eager to see his parents depart after arriving at camp because he was ready to go meet and experience new people. I can still remember the name of my counselor from my grade school camp days and campers from when I was in high school/college. However, more than anything, camp shaped my relationship with Christ. My nephew returned having earned a patch for scripture memory. As he easily recited Romans 6:23 to me I remembered my last summer desperately trying to cram a passage from Isaiah into my head. There will come a point where we all will more than just memorize scripture and recite Romans 6:23 but we will take ownership of what it says. Positively or negatively we will take sides. Camp was a part of the formative process where I chose sides again and again and again. Tough questions were posed and my opinions on the various topics took root. It was no different last week in the lush green mountains of TN. Once assigned to my team we participated in two exercises that would solidify for me where I stand with relationship to a man called Jesus, the Christ.
Because this post is getting excessively long; especially for me, I'll wait to unpack those two exercises. I will conclude with affirmation that I am wholly committed to going forth on this journey the Lord has presented to us (me on the ground, you virtually). I am working to continue to relinquish unnecessary weight, embracing a variety of changes that lie ahead and pressing into the companionship of Christ and all He is reveling Himself to be. My hope is you will(are) join(ing) me in doing the same.
