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
