On Memorial Day every year, campers young and old and in-between grab up their chainsaws, work gloves, paintbrushes, and shovels.

They follow their fearless leaders into the fray, cleaning what must be cleaned, clearing what must be cleared, and doing every job needed for Camas Meadows to be prepared for a summer of ministry to children.

There may be some debate about which job to do first, where all the shovels have gone off to, and exactly where Scruffy wanted that pile of rocks moved. But eventually everyone gets a job, instruction, and bolts into the forest ready to conquer downed trees, potholes, and piles of pine needles!

With stern (and necessary) fire-hazard rules in place that prohibit chainsaw use in August, much of our firewood gathering must now occur in the Spring.

Experienced chainsaw operators work to bring down and cut up any trees killed by those pesky pine beetles.

Younger firewood enthusiasts roll rounds to the camp truck, help stack wood, or pick up all the scattered branches that such a task produces.

Our gravel roads come out of the Winter months looking shabby and full of potholes.

But with the hard work of many hands put to the task, both the parking lot and camp road are fresh and smooth.

Work was also completed on the paintball course by this father-son team.

And this Nana-grandson team charmed one and all while bringing delicious snacks to the other workers.

Yum!

Not all jobs are out of doors. Painting, scrubbing the camp chairs, washing windows and bunks, organizing the kitchen shelves and many other tasks were completed as well.

Yes, when they are not attending to their mother’s “bunny ears” needs, these helpful campers scrub all of the chairs until they are fresh and lovely!

Cleaning out the camp stove, not a problem for this hard worker.

Grubby doors … no problem!

No, she is not sticking a screwdriver in that plug in! Why do you ask? Instead, we paint the walls and ceiling in Robin’s Roost, which requires taking off the bits and pieces that we do not want to end up pale blue. Even then, we both have a few blue strands of hair and more than our fair share of blue skin by the end of the weekend.

Good food and a moment here and there to rest and play finish off an amazing and productive weekend. Thank you one and all!

Boo Boo

When the snow melts as May sunshine awakens the mountains. When wildflowers bloom across the forest floor and within the swaying meadow grasses. As birdsong greats the dawn each day, I know that Spring is in full bloom and that means it is time for the Camas Meadows Ladies Retreat.

Whether working on a craft with a friend

or family

attempting to outbid competitors in the silent auction

or shoo away that pesky photographer before she takes a picture of you laughing with a retreat buddy,

the ladies kept busy during the weekend with times of fun and fellowship in between sessions.

The chapel sessions were brought to us by Robin Chukitus and yes, there was much crying, but it was worth it! Robin braved incredible honesty as she walked us through a difficult time in her life and the amazing things that God did in spite of all the awful stuff. Just because we are swamped, it doesn’t mean that He is!

She took us on a journey to discover God as the Good Father, reaching down to help His children stand strong in Him.

The weekend left us with so much to think on, mull over, and reach out to God about as we seek Him in our own stumbling walk.

But as each of the ladies said goodbye and headed home, I remain confident that the word of the Lord did not fall upon hardened soil but eager, capable hearts. For like the wildflowers that heralded the coming spring. Each of us has the power in Him to bust out of our heartache, bloom, and shine!

Boo Boo

Jr. High Winter Blast is our only Camas-run winter camp for youth. With about four feet of snow on the ground and gorgeous weather this year, the second weekend in March was the perfect time for winter wonderland fun.

Whether preparing to dive into a fluffy snowbank,

recovering from the brisk mountain cold,

or trying to learn forty-four different names through a crazy circle game,

there were many adventures to be had during this action-packed weekend.

A high-octane street hockey tournament on Saturday morning definitely used up a lot of the campers and counselors energy.

Did the boys win? Did the girls win? Or was the victor none other than Princess Leia Freyja, the camp dog?

Princess Leia Freyja certainly gained the title of “most enthusiastic un-sanctioned hockey player” even though the boys in Eagle’s Loft took home the victory.

We enjoyed the thrilling terror of the great Camas Meadows Tubing Hill!

Where a few reasonable individuals went down one tuber at a time.

Trains of tubers are outlawed, due to the realization years ago that this leads to broken collarbones, but campers are welcome to see just how many kids can be smooshed onto a single tube.

This experiment is highly entertaining for both participants and spectators.

And actually appears safer than plain old normal tubing since they never get very far.

Not far enough to build up too much speed, but certainly far enough to get a nice face-full of snow for pictures!

They jump out of the snow chilly, but smiling.

A little snow in the face and hair and maybe up one’s nose didn’t slow them down. But despite the discomfort and adventure, or maybe because of it, the tube hill brought people together and solidified friendships.

But the excitement wasn’t exclusive to outdoor adventures.

We also enjoyed some rousing games of “Share Ball” and of course Grog.

Yeah, there isn’t a whole lot of sharing in “Share Ball!”

We also enjoyed an epic game of amoeba!

All those rowdy and wonderful moments were threaded between times of quiet worship and tapping the depths of our relationship with Jesus Christ, the one who lends us direction, purpose, identity, and the love and care we so desperately need.

Faramir, our camp speaker, showed his incredible ability to cut straight to the heart of what Jr. High kids are truly concerned about. He spoke to the quiet, desperate needs of young hearts and the One who came to make those young souls truly soar!

Yes, each cabin got a bunch of candy to nibble during our cabin discussion times. But the real prize was seeing several young people choose to belong to Jesus during the weekend.

It was an amazing weekend! One that I was delighted to be a part of as a camp counselor for the first time in about eight years! Thank you for your prayers and support during this special, Camas run camp. After looking through all the photos from this year, I’m getting excited for the next one! You should consider attending staff training and then joining us. This winter camp was truly a delight! Especially for Princess Leia Freyja who got to join our cabin as the official Bear’s mascot!

Boo Boo

 

I was sitting in church the other day, listening to the worship music, when something occurred to me. That particular song had a sense of dissonance and clash that instantly turned the heart over, reminding me what it feels like to hurt and bleed and be in pain. But a gentle melody threaded its way through, giving a strand of hope within the dark. That song was such a picture of life. A glimpse of God’s story within our world.

The power of music, of art in all its forms. . . I think it is the rhyme and rhythm within the wild ache and clash of sound that draws us. The sense within the senselessness, the plot and story and balance of an artistic piece, the steady beat amidst all the bloodshed of life.

When there is dissonance in a song, I feel the reality of it. The terrible realness of all that surrounds us. But as the music flows together into something that makes sense, hope rises within me. It is the same for story. So much opposition is thrown up against the main character that the reader is sure life will squelch him in an arbitrary wash of senseless trouble and toil. But then there is that glimmer, that “for such a time as this” moment. The reader and the hero both realize that life is not a senseless tangle of horror. That they are where they stand for a reason. When a story finally wraps up, with all the threads untangled and the hero facing down the horror of his situation and becoming more than what he was before, it thrills the heart.

For isn’t that the ache in every heart? The longing to matter. Sometimes this world looks like a terrible mass of writhing destruction. War, enslavement, torture, destruction, tears. There are so many examples in the news and within the angry depths of our very own hearts that I shudder. And yet . . . I look outside and see a thick curtain and snow, drifting down in gentle perfection. Each flake a delicate work of art, unique and yet the same. Trees stretch out their limbs, soaking in the sun’s power and purifying the air around us. My children learn and grow, taller and more complicated every day. People change and forgive and move on to become more than anyone thought they could become. In real life, not just in the stories. 

There is a thread of reason within the terrible weight of darkness. There is God. Creator, Conqueror, Father, Friend. One who molds and makes the sensible order that flows all around us. One who chose to step down into our chaos and carve out a path to freedom. 

Isaiah 9:2–“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.”

Isn’t this why the heart lifts when we hear a song, gaze upon a powerful painting, or fall into the pages of a book? The clash and bruising of reality in art pulls you forward, but the thread of hope in that one elegant strand of order frees the heart and makes us hope. We hope that we too are more than we appear, that there is a happy ending somewhere through the darkness that requires us to take that next terrible step forward.

God speaks to us in so many ways. I am so glad that He stirred the human soul to sing and paint and write and dance, to be like Him, to create. His story is all about us, if only we are willing to pause and to see.

 

Boo Boo

This last weekend was our annual Summer Staff Winter Retreat. A weekend where the camp counselors and other camp staff (both old veterans and new recruits) get to be the campers. It is a camp where they do not bear the weight of caring for the needs of campers, but get to rest and hang out and grow in the Lord in the quiet beauty of His creation. Of course it is not always quiet, but the joyful tumult can be refreshing as well.

We had a beautiful heap of fresh snowfall and lovely weather for tubing and outdoor activities. There were many board games played and quiet moments in the lodge as well. Ian (Faramir) Ross was the speaker and his word for the weekend was “Parched.” The woman at the well was one of his examples of our deep and abiding need to be quenched by the ministrations of the Holy Spirit rather than the remedies that we can find in this fallen world. 

I spent my time writing on the camp couch while I observed our three boys zipping around through the counselors in a rowdy pack. Occasionally, counselors would join me. I was able to interview one of them about the weekend, what it meant to her, why she came.

She told me about how busy the winter months are, with school and running start, deadlines and due dates, home issues and the things you have to deal with every day. Things just pile up on top of each other, especially during the Holiday season. But camp was an escape for her, an opportunity to take a pause from the turmoil and strain.

“Camp regenerates you,” she said.

I understand what she means. Watching the snow drift down in a steady, silent, cloak across the forest. Listening to the campers laughing as they sat hunched over a board game or their screams of terror on the tube hill as they rushed down the slope clutching a tube for dear life. Hearing them sing in the soft light of the lodge at night, accompanied by acoustic guitar. Raising their hands, closing their eyes, lifting their voices as one before the Lord. It was lovely, peaceful. A time to take in a great gulp and air and pause. A time to notice God and seek Him, ignoring the bustle and push, resting in His power and love.

What about you? Do you take the time to pause, to rest and seek and be restored? It was a pleasure to see God at work, with nothing but a handful of teens and the blinding glory of His creation all around us. As ever, that is enough for God. He doesn’t need much to do great things.

 

Boo Boo

 

Here at Camas Meadows we are incredibly blessed. There are so many amazing people who simply love the camp and that love overflows in fabulous projects like this. The porch on Squirrel Cabin has been in need of replacement for some time. Built in the 70s that porch has weathered rowdy boy campers and actual weather alike, but had come to its last leg after many years of faithful service. The problem, camp did not have the funds for such a project. But out of the blue, one of our counselor parents, stepped in and made this beautiful renovation of Squirrel cabin possible. John and Sue Torrence’s three children are no longer campers or counselors, and yet Camas has remained in this family’s heart. Clint Griffith milled the lumber and then John came up to camp, day after day (even on Sue’s birthday…thank you Sue!) and built the porch, by himself, as a labor of love. But that’s not all.

Many of you have enjoyed being doused with water in the camp’s aging dunk tank. That much-loved feature finally passed on last year. Above is our brand new dunk tank, designed and built once again, by John Torrence. A clear plastic liner will allow campers to enjoy each dunking, even after the dunkee is submerged! Thank you so very much! We could not do this without you and realize that we are beyond a doubt, incredibly blessed.

 

Boo Boo