"above all things..."

 

"somebody with a hurt that I could have helped,

somebody with a hand that I could have held,

when I just can't see past myself,

Lord, help me be...

"a little more like mercy, a little more like grace

a little more like kindness, goodness, love, and faith

a little more like patience, a little more like peace

a little more like Jesus, 

"a little less like me..."

The above lyrics are from Zach Williams' song, "Less Like Me," and speak to the kind of hope I see as a natural part of the camp experience each summer.  Let me explain.

From January first, throughout the summer, and into the cooler days of autumn, I pray for camp(s).  Part of that prayer is looking for relevant spiritual insights and precedent-setting cases of divine law in the weekly Bible lessons that include passages from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy.

This morning's study of scripture included two prayers that were like bookends, holding the camp experience in the middle between them.  

The first is a passage from I Chronicles that has often been referred to as "the Prayer of Jabez:"

"And Jabez called on the God of Israel, saying, "Oh that Thou wouldest bless me indeed, and enlarge my border, and that thine hand might be with me, and that Thou wouldest keep me from evil, that it may not grieve me." 

This prayer has been lauded in song, sermon, and in a popular book by that title.  It's a prayer that has always puzzled me in its popularity.  Of course I can seen the attraction to a prayer that would bring fulfillment to the promises that Jabez is asking for.   

The other prayer is from III John in the New Testament: 

"Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health."

This prayer, although familiar, has never reached the level of spiritual pop culture recognition that the "Prayer of Jabez" reached in the early days of the 21st century with the publication of its namesake book.

Seeing these two prayers together in this week's lesson, was eye opening for me.  And what I see at camp sits right in the middle of those two prayers.  

As campers our children arrive at camp as guests to be, as a favorite hymn promises, "cared for, watched over, beloved, and protected," -- by staff, counselors, nurses, practitioners, and camp/bunkhouse moms/parents. Their context is one of being the recipient of blessings. 

But exposure to the very nature of camp, starts to nurtures the seed of Christ-like selflessness in them.  They watch a counselor -- tired from a full day of mountaineering or sailing -- rise in the middle of the night to pray with a homesick camper.  The experience the power of selfless service, generosity of heart, extraordinary patience, and seamless grace.  

And their lives begin to take on the purity of John's prayer for others.  Their greatest desire becomes," I can't wait to be on staff."  I know with our daughters, even though they had the opportunity of staying campers for two more years - and being served.  They couldn't wait to be on staff - and serve.  

What happens in their lives -- and in Scripture -- between those two spiritual bookends?  For me, it is the presence of Jesus - and his followers today. It is his Christly example of unselfed love that shifts our prayers from "enlarge my borders," to enlarge my heart.  From bless me, to one of "that thou may prosper and be in health."   

It astounds me that of all the things that John could have wanted for himself, those closest to him, the church he has grown, the community he was in fellowship with -- he would pray for the health and prosperity of one of Paul's followers -- not even his own "tribe," -- as what he wished for above all things.

I will leave this here -- but not before giving thanks for every counselor, staff member, director, facilities technician, and camp mom/bunkhouse parent I witnessed living John's prayer every day this summer. 

thank you. 

offered with Love, 

Cate

"a hundred hands...."

"who would have thought
that a Lamb could,
rescue the souls of men..."

After last night, there was no other song than Selah's "Wonderful, Merciful Savior," that could have possibly keynoted this post.

In front of their camp brothers, I saw one hundred hands raised in answer to this question:

"How many of you experienced a healing this summer?"

It took my breath away. I was not at all surprised that they had experienced the healing power of divine Love. But that - after a reflective pause - each hand was raised. They did not look around to see how their friends or mentors had answered the question. They were not hesitant - only thoughtful.

I will never forget watching this beautiful moment. Think of it. One hundred boys and men who had competed, slept, served, played and prayed with one another - quietly answering this question together. With raised hands and gentle faces -- "yes, I have known the healing power of God this summer."

I will leave this here. No commentary. I just wanted each of you to have a window on this moment of grace. And perhaps, in the privacy of your own home, on a walk in the woods, or in a moment of courage at work -- raise your hand, and shout, or sing, or whisper, "yes, I have known the healing power of God's love."

Have a beautiful Friday.



offered with Love,

Cate

"grateful for it all…"

"All that I am,
all that I see,
all that I've been,
and all that I'll ever be..."

The other day someone asked me why I would encourage our daughters to work as camp counselors this summer -- long days, modest wages. I was stunned. I can't imagine encouraging them to do anything else. The above chorus from "Grateful: A Love Song…"  by Empty Hands Music, sprang into my heart. I hope you will take a moment -- or two -- and give it a listen.

Almost everything I am, and all that my children have become, I directly attribute to our years as campers, counselors, volunteers, and staff members at the Adventure Unlimited Ranches -- the opportunities for spiritual growth, wonderful mentors, and programs it offers. I do not say this lightly. I mean it with every ounce of my being.

Do I hope that my daughters will devote the rest of their lives to supporting and contributing to this organization and the programs that it provides for children, adults and families? Actually, yes. But, as much as I would hope that their hearts remain aligned with this extraordinary place -- one that lives in each of us -- my encouragement that they return to camp as counselors this summer embodies a larger dream for them.

It is gratitude. I dream that our children grow into global citizens that understand the gift of gratitude. Gratitude is much more than an "after the fact" feeling of thanks. It is a way of life. It is an empowering and sustaining way of being in the world.

No one -- and nothing -- can deprive us of our right to be grateful. And it is a right. A divine right. In the midst of the most trying times -- while facing poverty, homelessness, pain, disappointment -- we can become still enough to recognize that there is always something to be grateful for.

This gratitude is a upwelling power within us. When we realize that we are aware of some small measure of good in our lives -- good that we can be grateful for -- we bring that good into conscious being. And when we appreciate [are grateful for] this good, it begins to appreciate [grow in value] in our lives.

To live with this attitude of gratitude is to live in a state of conscious good -- of grace.

So back to camp. Yes, our family could find "jobs" that might let us sleep in later each morning, or that might recompense us in larger measure, but we will never -- and I mean never -- find a greater opportunity to nurture and develop the best in ourselves. To discover the full depth of our identities as grateful children of a generous Father-Mother God.

To give a summer -- or a lifetime -- to this "place" that has shown us our best - our most unselfed, and spiritually trusting - selves is the greatest gift we can give to ourselves. To wake each morning knowing that we will have countless opportunities to say, "thank you," through providing the same encouragement and support to a new generation of campers and camp colleagues, that we have experienced, is to live a life of beauty and joy.

Each morning that we rise in the semi-dark of dawn for staff inspirational, and every time I hear a knock on the door of my cabin after midnight, or see a camper and counselor praying together on their porch -- long after lights out -- I am grateful. And each time I catch a glimpse of a counselor alone in the corral caring for horses when the rest of camp is at dinner -- I am immeasurably grateful.  Not only am I grateful for what they are doing to support our horse program, but for what they are learning about their own ability to put self aside, in caring for the needs of another creature first.

Our daughters may have opportunities to pursue internships that could forward their professional careers.  They may be offered jobs that would contribute more significantly to our very modest college savings account.  But nothing will contribute more to them becoming their best selves, than a summer steeped in gratitude for what camp has done in their lives. A summer filled with appreciation for the spiritual values that have nurtured their "clear sense and calm trust," in God's love for them. A recognition that this same Love has afforded them priceless opportunities to attend camp every summer since they were big enough to sit on a horse.  And that Love is giving them another summer in which to say "thank you," to an organization that has so deeply blessed their lives.

So, why would I encourage our daughters to work at camp this summer? Because I can't imagine a job that will lead to a greater -- more fulfilling and satisfying -- life of gratitude, service, and joy. 

The friendships they will make, and foster, are friendships steeped in selflessness and spiritual strength. What more could I want for my children, my husband, myself -- the world?

Thank you Adventure Unlimited*. We are grateful. We are grateful for it all.


offered with love,



Kate

*for some families "camp" is represented by the Peace Corp, other summer camps, or the many non-profits that serve humanity in countless ways. This post celebrates the practice of selfless service to our common purpose -- the blessing of others, as we have been blessed.

"As the ruby, in the setting..."

"...As the ruby in the setting
As the fruit upon the tree, 
As the wind blows over the plains...
So are you to me..."
- EastMountainSouth

I love this song...love, love, love it.  "So Are You to Me" has been one of my favorite love songs, since the first time I heard it performed by Kat Bode and Peter Adams.   And although it was used to keynote an earlier poem (on this blog), it serves to underscore a different message in this piece, for reasons that I hope will be obvious.

Today, as I was thinking about about Mary Baker Eddy's statement:

"Jesus beheld in Science the perfect man..."

it was this song that I came to mind.  

Over the years, I've have loved hearing it performed during marriage ceremonies. But I could easily see that it is not just a lovely romantic wedding song. It is a song about the kind of love that Jesus shared, so generously...impartially and universally...with everyone he came in contact with.  He loved them enough to behold their perfection (their wholeness) right where they were, right in front of their own eyes. And in doing so, it was possible for them, and others, to see the beauty, power, and grace within themselves. Innate spiritual resources that had the power, and potential to heal, and to bless . 

Not long ago  I wrote about an etymological discovery I had made.  I'd found a definition of the word, "behold," that read:

"to see, and call attention to"

And tonight, as I write this, I am realizing that this is a perfect, and accurate, description of what we do for those we love.  We are "the setting" in which their beauty and brilliance...their color and depth...is revealed, exposed to the light of love's illuminating grace, held high for all to see...each facet full of reflected, dancing light.

I see this in the lives of spiritual thinkers -- mothers, nurses, partners, husbands, healers, parents, teachers, healers, coaches - who see the good, the presence of God, in the lives of others...calling attention to it, for that very individual, and others, to see, experience, and appreciate.

I have experienced this kind of love.  I think that the first time I knew how it felt to "be the ruby in the setting" of someone's love, was with my younger sister.  She was so talented and confident.  She was willing to audition for roles, try-out for dance teams, put herself forward in ways that I was not able to do.  But what she would do...once she "made the team" or "got the part"...was to bring my talents to the attention of coaches and teachers so that I too would have opportunities...opportunities that I would never have had the courage to explore on my own.

So, why has this song become the pure and perfect, quintessential love song for me?  Because, I think, this is what real love is all about.   Holding our loved ones aloft, up to the light, high above even their own view of themselves, so that all of their unique spiritual gifts can be recognized, valued, and used for a holy purpose.

My daughters had a camp counselor last year who did this for them.   She saw that each of the girls had a very different, but equally remarkable, way of working with horses.   She identified one child's deep-settled calm, and placed her on a horse that, in partnership, would reveal how that same peacefulness...coupled with a growing inner confidence...brought out the best in their horse/rider partnership.   She recognized the spirited fearlessness in our other daughter, and put her on a horse that would enjoy her exuberance, while demanding that she develop a sense of quiet strength in her movements.


Each of our daughters' camp counselors have showed a deep, and abiding, love for them that I will never forget.  I think about what I have learned from them...often...in my own relationships with others -- my husband, my daughters, those who call me for help,  friends, colleagues, and those I meet in the course of my day.

When we really love another, we are willing to "be the setting," and not the gemstone.  My sister was never afraid to hold my gifts up to others, and point out how I could be a blessing, a contribution, a jewel of great value to their experience. To truly love another is to not only see, but to "see and call attention to" what they may not...at that moment...be able to see in themselves.

This is love...real love,
Kate

I love camp....

Dear Mom (Okay...this letter isn't really to my mom, but it just seems like the right "person" to address a letter from camp to):

I love camp....just like I do every year.  I love everything about it.  I love the sounds of camp. The trickle of the little "brook" that runs past my cabin from up the mountain on its way to the lake just below the lodge.  The wind through the pines and aspens that sighs and murmurs in a language that is spoken only here. The laughter of teens on the lawn as they discover how to be children again under the canopy of a cloudless Colorado sky.  The symphony of splashing and screeching that extends like ripples from the lake and reaches my cabin beckoning me to join by the water's edge and watch the dance of campers in a bizarre sort of water ballet.  Hymns wafting through the night air as cabin counselors sing their campers to sleep.   For me these sounds are the voice of God's song in my heart.  I long for them throughout the year the way a lost wanderer keens towards the music of his homeland drifting from the golden light of the doorway in a wayside inn.

I love camp....I love the feast of Soul that feeds my eyes throughout the days and nights.  A counselor with her arm around a homesick camper.  A tired and disoriented hummingbird sitting in the hand of a gangly teen who has helped her find her way out of the lodge where she lost her bearings.  A group of campers sitting on the lawn reading and discussing Bible stories within the context of their own relevant adventures in spiritual discovery.  A young man with tempera facepaint laughing as he is captured in a game of Eco-stragego when only an hour earlier he had seemed sullen and "too cool" for child's play.  A girl with her horse discovering a form of communication only a girl with a horse can understand. The afternoon light reflecting off the wet shoulders of teens bobbing in a clear mountain lake.  These visuals are the mental photographs I cherish throughout the year.  To see them come to life and move before my eyes for yet another summer is a gift from a very generous and kind God.

I love camp....I love the smell of marshmallows toasting in the fireplace in Valerie Lodge on a rainy night with a group of girls singing Disney songs while dancing like sprites on a midsummer's eve.  The scent of crushed pine needles beneath my feet as I walk through the cool midnight air to respond to the needs of a homesick camper.  The aroma of the barbecue on Sunday afternoon while campers sit on the lawn and on porches marking their Bibles and copies of Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures for the next week's spiritual study they will engage in every morning.  The sweet perfume of shampoo and baby powder that floats in the air after everyone has returned from the river and the trails for showers before flag lowering by the lake.   These scents remind me that God's tender beauty is redolent in this world and that I can never be outside of its reach if I will only slow down, close my eyes, and breathe deeply.

I love camp....I love the taste of tears that fall down my cheeks each time I drive through the gate and realize that God has blessed me with one more year of heaven on earth.  I love the taste of charred marshmallows mixed with the bark from the long stick they were roasted on.  I love the taste of triumph I see a camper savoring when she conquers fear or surmounts self-doubt.  I love the taste of freedom I detect in a young man who has discovered that being a man of integrity is sweeter than finding his way around the rules.  Each savored moment of grace is a delicacy that doesn't just tempt, but satisfies and fills the heart with God's bounty.

I love camp....I love the feel of a camper's arm linked in mine as we walk into the woods for a moment of privacy to talk about God's love for him.  The feel of the soft evening wind in my hair as I watch almost one hundred young men and women sit silently for an hour listening for inspiration during "Alone with Your Thoughts" on a cool summer's evening.  The touch of a counselor's hand on my shoulder at dinner alerting me to the spiritual needs of a camper who longs for comfort or a reminder that God's love is even closer than my hand in hers.  The weight of my spiritual sidekicks, the Bible and Science and Health, in my arms as I gather these vital tools and head off to the corral to pray with a camper and her horse.  I love feeling my heart leap when a camper shares with me his inspiration from that morning's prayer and it meets my exact need for spiritual nourishment in that very moment.  I love feeling the damp warmth of a rafter's hug after a day on the river where she has overcome fear and found freedom in the midst of what could have been a whitewater crisis...something we had prayed about together that morning before she left.  I love each touch, each firm yet gentle reminder that God's care reaches through the abstract and obtuse, the distant and aloof to place a tender and divine hand on our lives.

I just love camp....

Love,


K