The Sara Morrill: 2011

"I prefer the saddle to the streetcar and star-sprinkled sky to a roof, the obscure and difficult trail, leading into the unknown, to any paved highway, and the deep peace of the wild to the discontent bread by cities. . . it is enough that i am surrounded by beauty."

-Everett Russe; Into the Wild

11 weeks of summer. 9 weeks of counseling. 56 campers to tend to physically, mentally, spiritually and emotionally. 90 lessons on the book of Daniel. 12 trips down the river. 5 trips down the horse trails. 93 skits. 72 hours of pond time. 52 campfires. 4 impromptu dance parties in the timberline kitchen. 6 ice cream fights. 8 camper skit nights. 1 pregnant goat that never ever gives birth. A few of what seemed like the most difficult days of my life. A few more that must have been the best.

This was my version of the Kidder Creek summer. I couldn't say that it was just perfect and glorious moments, although sometimes it was. I couldn't just say it was laughter or memories in the making. No, it was more than that. I could say it was real. Real family. Real relationships. Real struggle. Real love. Real adventure. Real life. It was so refreshing just to live-- and live well and freely. It felt good to leave behind a world of meaningless distractions and instead come face to face with the creator. To empty the void inside that has been filled with the world-- with inauthenticity. To fill it with real beauty and relationships. To spend my Saturdays jumping off bridges and hiking to waterfalls, free from the distractions of a shallow and self-absorbed culture. In my head I tried to describe the deep feeling over and over again I came up with that it was "way I was intended to live." From all the artificial restraints of the world I could feel myself let go.

Since I didn't have a lot of time to write through much of my summer, at least in this capacity (actually, for the first time in my life I journaled nearly every night) I have decided to make a compilation of some of the stories that represent this summer. There's a lot to cover that I surely will never will, but here are just some of the memories (in no particular order) that I want to cling to. Yes, this will probably be my longest post to date. Oops.

#1 My First Week Rafting with High Adventure:

Week 3 of camp I got a refreshing taste of home when my grandparents came up to Kidder Creek to bring three of my cousins to camp. I got to counsel my sweet little cousin, Danielle as well as one of my other awesome cousins on my Dad's side of the family, Lexi. I also had two of my younger cousins, Ryan and Ryan who were in one of my friends, Richard's, cabin. It was officially the first week of High Adventure camp and on a scale of 1 to 10 I could not have been more excited. I have a special place in my heart for junior high girls, and this week I had 7 of them. I fell in love with my cabin quickly. We played millions of games of "Big Booty," did yoga on our raft, and created one of the most memorable (and questionable?) skits of the summer. One of the girls even called me mom all week. Looking back, they are still probably my favorite group of summer.

{week 3 girls and I}

We headed to the river on Monday of that week and set up camp in the pouring rain. We rafted most of the next day in the rain, which was a blast for us counselors. However, junior high girls (and boys) are not usually super duper troopers when it comes to being wet and cold all the time. In fact, the rest of that evening, most of the campers decided that they had had enough of this rafting business. That evening after campfire, I was caught off-guard when Rae, the assistant director that week announced we would be having a "cabin time," which is like a devotional/sharing time. I didn't really have anything prepared to talk about. I just remember spur of the moment I decided to share my testimony. I shared with them things that I hadn't told many other people: struggles and points in my life where I had felt broken down and hopeless. I'm not sure what it was. All seven of my normally shy girls opened up and shared about their lives-- stories of brokenness and pain. In, fact we stayed and talked for almost two hours. "God must not answer prayers," one of them said, "Otherwise it would not be this way." All eight of us were in tears. I had the chance to empathize, to pray over each and every one of them and share with them the hope that I knew to be true. I think that's the special thing about the river. It bonds people together. It makes people trust you, since you have to make them feel safe on the river.

The weather took a turn for the worse that night. That night, my friend, Anna woke me up at 3 in the morning because she needed to share my sleeping bag. She had given hers to one of her girls whose bag got soaked underneath the tarp. (Yes, we did end eventually end up spooning in my mummy bag the rest of that night.) Twenty minutes later, we woke up again to find that over half of all the girls had soaking wet sleeping bags. The tarp which had been covering us had drained into the fire pit, which had a giant hole that spilled right onto where we were sleeping. Pretty soon, every girl was awake as we started to move girls around, trying to fit them on picnic tables and in camp vehicles and trailers as it was pouring rain. I soon found out that the boys' tarp had collapsed about an hour before and most of them were soaking wet as well. Needless to say, in the morning most of the kids were tired, cold and ready to go back.

In the morning, all the staff came up with an alternate plan ("Project Funder" in case the kids asked) on how to pass time until the weather cleared up. We started devotionals after breakfast. To my disappointment, the girls had seemed to shut down again. When I asked how I could be praying for them, they gave me nothing. Finally, I got three simple things from the group: sunshine on the river, no one to fall out of the boat and for healing for one of the girl's eye. (She had had a nasty sty for the past few days.) As simple as they were, they seemed like impossible requests. It was my first trip guiding my own boat, and I was sure we couldn't go a whole day without anyone falling out, especially since the water levels were so high. The forecast was predicted for rain most of that day, and this girl's eye had been swollen shut for days.

When we finally rafted that day, I remember being terrified coming up on the biggest rapid of the day, Rattlesnake. It was my first time guiding this particular rapid by myself. I know a lot of boats had flipped recently, and my girls did NOT want to "get wet." We prayed for safety before going through the rapid. We ended up hitting it perfectly, and every girl stayed in the boat. (They ended up staying in the entire day and all of the next day too.) A few high fives and paddle slaps later, we rounded the bend of the river and one of the girls asked how the other girls eye was doing. She turned around, and in all seriousness it was perfectly healed. Just then, when I thought that was too cool to be real, God gave me one more little miracle. One more bright hope. You could call it coincidence, but I call it God. The clouds broke and the sun started to beam through the cloud openings which formed a perfect smiley formation. "Look God is smiling at us," I heard a voice in the back say. I asked them if they remembered the three things that they had remembered praying for in the morning. "Oh yeah," I heard someone else say. It was the girl who had told me that God must not answer prayers the night before. "I guess God really does answer prayers."

None of them could have really understood the significance of that moment. It was a time that I felt a little inadequate, both to lead these girls and guide them safely down the river. It was in that moment that I realized that I was indeed inadequate, but God was not. Even when I felt like an unlikely servant, he used me. He was there guiding my boat and leading these girls with grace and love. I wrote in my journal that night asking God to keep me uncomfortable so that I may be stretched, grow and learn to love more deeply the rest of my life. Sleeping in a wet bag, blistering hands, laboring in the rain with no sleep truly was the perfect adventure. I could not have been more grateful.

#2 In Another World

This day could likely be considered the best day of my life. I don't know how it all happened other than the planets must have had some kind of cosmic alignment. Even to this day the events that took place that day are discussed in hushed tones. All we have to do is say, "hey, remember that day?" and it will all come swarming back. I won't really be able to paint you a picture of the collective events that took that place, but I'm going to try. We were at our staff retreat, which was in Crescent City, CA, a town about 20 miles south of the Oregon/California border.

Wait, wait. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Crucial to understanding the glory of this day is to understand the participants. At the beginning of each summer we all take a test to determine our personality types so we can better work together. We are either a lion, otter, beaver or retreiver. Characteristics of the otter personality: energetic, spontaneous, unproductive, carefree, easily-distracted, group-oriented. Needless to say the otter car was not the planning type. In fact, our plan for the day was to at all costs have no plan.

{Carey, Kerry, Alyssa, Trevor, Sara, Suzie, Scott}

Sorry for interrupting. It all began when we left our group campsite. "Left or right? Left or right?!" We turned right. We ended up at this beautiful beach where we dipped our toes in the water and did handstands in the sand for a little while before heading back the other direction in search of this beach called "The Other World." It had been brought up by our men's staff counselor over bagels in the morning. On the way, we stumbled upon this little gem of rocky coastline, which looked like it would be neat to climb.

We slowly made our way across this tide pool covered in seaweed which seemed more like bubble wrap. We spent some time feeding some giant hermit crabs to the sea anemones.

When we got to the top it looked something like this:

After, soaking up the beauty awhile, we were off in search of this Other World. Somehow we ended up on this windy uphill road. After some deliberation, I had indeed driven this road on a simulator in driver's ed 5 years ago. We ended up at the top of this lookout point. It was where the Klamath River, the river we raft in all summer, meets the Pacific Ocean. It looked a lot like this:

While at the lookout point, we heard some locals say that there had been a whale and calf sighting about 20 minutes before in the Klamath. Let me repeat that, there had been a whale IN THE RIVER THAT WE RAFT IN. Of course. Silly whale, you know you're not supposed to swim in the river. So, we buckled our satchels and went to go see for ourselves. We headed back down the windy road only to find a large crowd of people around the guard rail. Apparently the whale had not come up for air in over a half an hour. Without a second thought, Kerry started running down the road and a few of us followed him, because, you know, Kerry knows what's up. In these types of cases it's best to assume so. He ended up finding an opening in the brush, wherein we scooted ourselves across these trees until we were hanging over the river.

{Alyssa, Carrie, Sara whale-watching from a tree. nbd.}

It wasn't two minutes that we saw the whale and it's come right underneath us! I mean we were in the splash zone of this whale. In the Klamath river. Hanging from a tree. The seven of us stayed and watched the whale for a little while until we were joined by some middle-aged tourists and a man with dreadlocks.

I found out a month later from a man selling novelty padded baseball caps on the side of a road that the whale in the Klamath had actually been really big news in California. In fact the last time a whale had made news like that was 6 years ago when a whale got stranded in the Sacramento river. It had been nearly 20 years since any type of whale had made it's way to the Klamath.

So off we went again in search of this Other World. About 10 minutes had passes since leaving Mr. Whale when we saw a black bear in the middle of the road. Naturally, we all started screaming and Alyssa put the car in park while still driving. We couldn't find the bear back, but we did continue to stand in the middle of the road and discuss the size that the bear was, whether or not Kerry could wrestle it, and who could win in a fight between a polar bear, a great white shark and all of us.

Anyway, after a quick stop for Arizona tea, we found a few different potential Other Worlds, but we were not completely convinced. Finally, we stopped along this little beach that looked quaint. There were tents set up everywhere. Kids of all ages were playing. Some people seemed to be selling beads and specialty foods. Scott decided was a gypsy community out to steal the minivan and plunder our chacos. Given our otter personality type we decided not to worry about it.

After awkwardly walking through the brush, potential gypsies staring at us everywhere, we crossed over to the sandy side again. I have never so much felt like I was on an episode of Lost, and I've never even seen that show. There was what seemed to be infinite flat sand and giant boulders. We realized that we were on the isthmus that we had seen earlier that day that separates the Klamath river from the ocean.

And pretty soon we started doing this.

until we ran as far as we possibly could across the isthmus.

Then, we realized the most incredible thing happening right before us. The waves were crashing onto the shoreline. These were not ordinary waves, though. No, no. These were the biggest waves I had ever seen. Taller than 2 Trevors stacked on top of one another.

It was spectacular. It was beautiful. We were the only 7 people standing on that beach. I think we all just stood in silence for a good 20 minutes trying to take it all in. Not only the grandeur in front of us, but also the day we just had.

In my head I could hear the song playing,

Waves of mercy, waves of grace. Everywhere I look I see your face.

It nearly brought tears to my eyes.

We finally forced ourselves to leave so that we wouldn't be too late for dinner that night.

We met back up with the rest of our group for a barbecue at the beach with so much love and fruit salad I didn't know what to do with myself. The next day, I even got to go on an incredible hike through the Redwoods with Austin, Amy and Cody.

What a weekend in the Crescent City. I couldn't do it justice in writing truthfully.

It was the type of absolute perfect that you could have never planned if you tried.

I mean, really, we had just watched a whale in a river from a tree.

Looking back, one can't help but think,

"Was this magnificent beach The Other World?" The world will never know.

I think it's much more likely that we misunderstood.

We were searching for the Otter World all along.

#3 Wilderness

My very last week of work, I had the absolute blessing to get to work with our wilderness program. This particular week, I worked with a guest group from Santa Anna, California. It was an after-school program for at-risk youth. In fact, it was the only faith-based after school program in the Los Angeles area. The entire week, I just could not believe that I was here getting paid to do what I love. The group was so wonderful and hilarious. I really clicked with a lot of the kids and I could see how much they loved one another. I also loved that, unlike a lot of other groups we have, they were already knew each other and were very bonded. It was so incredibly evident that their leaders cared deeply and were willing to fight for them. Words cannot express how much of an inspiration and blessing it was for me.

Every single one of these kids and leaders had absolutely zero outdoor experience.

Examples:

"Will our boat have a motor?"

"Is that skunk going to kill us?"

"Wait, where are the bathrooms?"

In fact, most of them didn't even know how to swim. For many, camp was the furthest they had ever travelled. They dove right in (literally) somehow and wanted to try everything. They took twice as long to hike, drive, climb or swim anything as our other groups. Yet, it was incredible to watch. I couldn't imagine having stayed in a city for an entire lifetime, having to worry about the things that they must worry about.

The first three days of wilderness entail a backpacking and climbing in the Marble Mountain Wilderness. The second half we spend time rafting, including some hiking into Clear Creek, Ukonom and lots of cliff jumping.

Oh, and lets not forget staying up for many hours of the night "Bleach Blasting" away skunks from the girls campsite.

This happened.

One of the mornings, I was leading devotions with my family group. I can't explain it, but I felt really lead to speak about giving our worries and problems to God-- how so often our problems blind us from seeing Jesus. I talked about the sustaining and powerful peace that we can have in the midst of scary and stressful situations. Just after we finished praying, we heard that one of the girls from the other campsite had gone missing. We searched and searched, but after a half and hour we still had not found her. Eventually, the wilderness director, Ben, sent one of the counselors back to camp to call Search and Rescue, while the rest of had strategically been placed to do a fan sweep along the lake. Most of the group was in tears. Finally, we found the girls and it was a beautiful reunification. Ben talked to us about how this so much mirrors God pursuit of us. How he will persistently seek us out until we are brought back home. It was a beautiful parallel and such a powerful moment, as I heard from a lot of the kids later. It blows my mind how much we can see God in the outdoors-- how so much of the beauty that surrounds us is a metaphor for how we should live our lives, from the river to the jump rocks to the astounding panoramic views. I feel home when I am outdoors. I couldn't have asked for a better last week to tie together everything that this summer was.

#4 The End of the Beginning

As the final weeks of camp were coming to a close, as so many other endings, it was bittersweet. We had a big staff farewell party, which included an evening of encouragement to one another. It was just so easy to sense the love that all the staff members had for one another and for others. I have been so blown away and blessed by the incredible talents and gifts among the staff members. It was such a tight-knit community, and if it hadn't been the summer would not have been the same.

Anna, Heidi, John and I spent what was for many, the last Saturday at camp going to some of our favorite places of the summer.

Clear Creek:

Ukonom Falls:

The Whirlpool:

And the last jump of the Summer off of Kelsey Creek Bridge:

On our drive back, John pulled over on the side of the road, and we all sat in the back of the truck and watched the sun set over the beautiful farm country where we had spent our summer. "Thanks for loving kids this summer guys," he said to us. More than anything else this summer, I have learned to love people-- to love when it hurts, when I feel broken down and when I don't feel loved back. Love is real. Love is genuine. Love comes only from one place.

This summer has been challenging for more reason than one. I have felt burnt out. I have felt broken down. I have felt inadequate. It was the people who got me through. I am certain. Yet, I learned in that last week of camp, it is not the people that I should be holding to. It is not the memories that I will hold. It is the love and community that I should take with me and recreate wherever I may go. And that, I believe is what ministry is. It is pure, unadulterated, non-self-seeking authentic love.

This summer taught me how to love people deeply, and have their best interest at heart as far as it can be extended.

This summer taught not to put on a mask on who I am, because in reality we are all just big messes waiting to come out.

It taught me that prayer isn't about just changing God's mind, but our own hearts.

It taught me that my value cannot come from friends, family or myself, but in God alone.

It taught me El Shaddai. God is faithful.

It taught me how to live authentically.

Oh, and it turns that pregnant goat poser really did have something up her sleeve. And by her sleeve I mean her belly. She wasn't faking it all along.

"This is real life." -Nicole Cain.

So on that note,

Keep it Real

Smo (my camp name)

Hi guys, so by the looks of it I’ve been at Kidder Creek about a month.

It’s hard to say because time is measured strictly by our chaco tans:

Oh, and showers are optional, always.

During staff training, we learned a lot of soft and hard skills. A unique aspect about Kidder Creek is that as counselors we do not just run the program aspect but we also learn to run all the activities. This means that we set up and belay the ropes courses, guide on the river, know basic horse skills, run the riflery, archery and outdoor survivor electives. When dealing with so many kids everything is systematic and must be done correctly from grilling meat at the river, checking car fluids before heading out to the wilderness and pumping and preparing boats for the day. I love the multi-dimensional aspect of my job even though it can be demanding.

The high point of every moment I spend here is the beauty in which I am surrounded. I don’t think I could ever live in a place like this and take it for granted for one minute.

If there is one thing that really makes my heart sing it is the time I spend at the river. I can’t help think every minute I am there how blessed I am to be doing something that I have so much passion for. I can't shake the feeling that it was the way I was intended to live. Soaring down the river for me is like a metaphor for life. You never know just what you will find around the next bend, whether you will struggle or triumph. People tend to open up to you on the river. They must trust you. You make them feel safe. When you are going down a rapid, you must have complete trust in something greater than yourself. You must take a leap of faith giving everything you have for just a shot at calm water.

My first week at camp, I got to work with a youth group. I had a cabin full of high school girls each with a unique struggles. At the beginning of the week I was convinced that high schoolers were not my calling. I shut down. I didn't know how I could possibly handle their stories of what seemed like hopelessness. Pain. Death. Abuse. Piece by piece their stories unravelled themselves. I got so emotionally invested in each of the girl’s lives. The best thing I could do was listen. I told them the story that I had heard last year in my ministry class. It was about a boy who had struggled beyond what any of us could imagine. Hewas raped by his uncle 3 times a week. He would question where God was when he was on the floor weeping, his uncle standing above him. Hopeless. "God was there," my teacher had told the boy, "On the floor. Being raped with you."

It was hard to see my girls go at the end of the week. One of my co-counselors, Rae told me how every once and a while we form a special bond with one of our campers. I definitely had a special treasure in my cabin that week. It's hard for me to let people go when they have shared their struggles with me. We have been told that for some of these kids we are the most influential adults in their lives. Their friends don't know how to handle their problems. Their parents don't have permission.

The thing about ministry is that we are preaching a simple gospel. Most of the staff have just come from Christian schools where we have studied theology and religion, learning about ethics, global ministry, biblical themes and philosophies of great Christian thinkers. Yet, none of that matters here. All that matters is the good news of Christ. All we need to do is apply that message to the kids where they are at-- whether they need an identity, a hope for their struggles, a Father figure, or something to fulfill their empty heart.

{week 1 girls}

At the end of that week I got to ride 26 miles through the Marble Mountain Wilderness with the staff for a Marathon that would raise money for underprivileged youth to go to camp.

The first 9 miles were downhill and some of the most incredible mountain scenery I could imagine. It was fun to drift back and forth and throughout the course of the race and talk to different staff members.

I came to camp not really expecting to connect much with people. I grow weary of having to say goodbye to people time and time again as I move to new phases in life. I get so attached to people; it is hard not to have those close to me in my life all the time. I had decided that the people I meet this summer would only be in my life for the summer. Yet, I have come to realize the wrongness in that. I am learning that sharing life with those around you and allowing yourself to be vulnerable was the way that we were intended to live.

People talk all the time about the healing powers of Kidder Creek-- how it's a place to process the pains and struggles of the past year. The thing is that at Kidder Creek I am not surrounded with distractions. I don't have the diversions of being home or schoolwork to fall back on. I am surrounded with the glory of God. I must decide if it is all real--if everything my life has culminated to is all for nothing or not. This summer I am a servant of Christ and if it were not so, I simply could not make it. I would break down. I would burn out. It would not be worth it.

Have you ever laid down and stared up at the stars? I did just the other night with my campers.

I was exhausted. They wouldn't be quiet and go to bed.

But, I couldn't help but think, it doesn't matter who you are.

You couldn't help but stare at the stars and see infinince. power. You couldn't help but feel small and insignificant. I thought back to when I was in 3rd grade and my older brother would explain the billions of miles that separated us from the closest balls of light that looked so tiny and beautiful. Unimaginable depth that could simply not be taken in all at once by human eyes. You couldn't help but feel at peace that there was something greater in control. That's what I felt. Peace. And I knew in that moment that it wasn't all for nothing.

Week 2, was much less tending to emotional needs. It was more about, "No, you can't eat 5 mustard packets." etcetera. etcetera. I had a cabin of little girls ranging from 1st to 4th grade.

{Week 2 girls}

I finished the week off completely exhausted and counting down the minutes until they would be driving home in their parent's subarus. Yet, when I went to bed that night somehow I missed their little screaming voices asking for a bedtime story and asking to sleep in bed with me. Looking back, I found a lot of joy in those little moments. Somehow I think it has to be all downhill from here.

Happy Birthday Dad!

Ranch Camp here I come.

All Day E'er Day. Kidda Cweek.

Sara Nicole