Worship Around the Campfire

We sat out by the fire literally in the middle of the woods.  No buildings, no platform tents within sight.  The trees opened to the stars illuminating the autumn sky.  The babbling brook down the hill accompanied our singing.  We did a mix of acoustic and a capella worship songs to our God, the Creator of this beautiful moment.

Listening to Mindy's rockstar voice, I'll admit, I got a bit jealous.  I enjoy singing; I do a decent job.  I don't sound like Mindy.  At all.

I watched an eight year old pick and play in the fire.  I'm not sure if it's my history of burns or my natural inclination towards safety but I've never been a fire picker.  I'm barely brave enough to roast a marshmallow.

I watched Kurt rhythmically strum his guitar.  Despite the smoke in his face, his fingers found the frets.  Allyson's slowly teaching me guitar.  But I only know four chords.

A high schooler cuddled with the camp dog.  I've always been more of a cat person, an idea reinforced when I was attacked by dogs a few weeks ago.

A chaperone faithfully kept the fire burning.  Not so big that we all had to scoot back.  Not so small that we needed additional blankets for heat.  Just perfect.

God, I said in my head, You've given Mindy the gift of singing.  She sounds wonderful.  You've given Kurt the gift to play guitar.  It's peaceful.  You've given these other folks bravery and fire-building abilities.  It's so great that we can all be here together amidst Your beautiful creation to enjoy this moment.

Katie, God responded, not in an audible voice, You're jealous that you can't sing like Mindy, play guitar like Kurt, find a cuddle-buddy in a limping, four-legged friend, and build a fire like the one we've got here.  But you know what you can do?  Make twenty s'mores in less than five minutes.  Ready, set, go.

"I'm ready for some chocolate and graham crackers..."
"Me, too."

Chaos.  And I only broke one half of a cracker.

<>< Katie

"Now if the foot should say, 'Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,' it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. And if the ear should say, 'Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,' it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, 'I don’t need you!' And the head cannot say to the feet, 'I don’t need you!' On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, while our presentable parts need no special treatment. But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it." 1 Corinthians 12:15-27

The Birthday Bash

My extended family of thirteen took our annual birthday celebration on the road to a cabin in a world where pine trees are planted in perfect rows, motels pride themselves on having cable tv and air conditioning, and the nearest town had a high school but no grocery store.  I've written two blog posts about our journey but both left me with a "Who cares?" feeling.  So I'm going to try something a little different.  Let me know if you like it or not. 

<>< Katie

(Most photo credits belong to Laura but some are mine and some Mom's)

One day we went tubing and kayaking down the river.  We were expecting a two-hour adventure, but it really took upwards of four.  The beer cooler got its own tube, but we forgot to pack food.  I felt like a message in a bottle; except at one point I was being blown upstream rather than down.

We had four dogs with us.  This is Holly, Queen of the World.  I was less than thrilled when she decided I needed a wake-up kiss on my nose at 8am...

Cassie, my family's dog, seems to think eating is optional.  Before we left, my aunt looked up the nearest animal ER: twenty-one minutes away.  She forgot to look up a people ER.  We teased there we were so much in the middle of nowhere that there was no 911.  That joke was a whole lot funnier before we had an incident when calling 911 would have been appropriate.

One uncle tried to make a pudgy pie with no spray and only one piece of bread.  I'm glad I caught the novice... crisis adverted.

Dad: Breakfast is always good when it involves a hammer.  Katie!  Write that one down.

My uncle walked in one afternoon and found my male cousin painting my sister's toenails.  My uncle laughed at my cousin.  Personally, I think painting fingernails and braiding hair are two life-skills that boys should have.  My uncle--who has a wife but no children--claimed he could braid hair, so I let him try.  It took two tries before he got this in my head but gave up before he had to use a ponytail holder... hence the twisty stolen from the bread bag.

My favorite thing: fire

Laura's favorite thing: feet

(both sarcastic)

Grandpa: What do you guys have against feet?  Feet are wonderful people!

Campfire

Earlier this semester I read a blog about a little boy with burns that reminded me of my own burn story. The resonance hit me hard and after two days of dwelling finally I decided to take my own classic advice and "write about it."  I've written about it a million times before, but it was time to do it again and a little differently.

On the first day of my Human Biology class the professor said, "This is the non-science majors class.  I realize all of you are only here because you have to be.  You're not science people and that's ok, but for me to remember that I'm going to think of you all as my father.  My father was a poet.  In my brain, you are all poets."

I remember thinking to myself, I'm not a poet, but I am closer to a poet than a scientist. 

I'm still not a poet, but I wrote a poem explaining why I once told Andy I'm allergic to fire.

<>< Katie

"Campfire"

She ran her fingers over
discolored imperfections on her forearms
before pulling down her sleeves to hide
the scars of a clumsy childhood.

She didn’t remember
tripping over the pesky shoelace,
the metal safety rim bruising her leg.
But all too well she remembered
failing to choke back the tears
as smoldering coals gripped her forearms,

the firm grasp on the back of her shirt,
her rescuer, her mother,
dragging her to the a perfectly-placed water pump,
as if it had been awaiting her misfortune.

She remembered the
pain as her skin burned,
embarrassment of her own misstep,
fear and unknown in the Emergency Room
the doctor poking incessantly asking if she felt it.
Yes. It hurt.

She remembered the rules
no pool, no sun.
A bird was told not to fly.
She tried to argue but
her voice had vanished,
the verdict not negotiable.

She remembered
devastation,
summer lasting an eternity
bandages over both arms,
trying in vain to dry one hand,
always refusing to explain why.

Years later the bandages are gone,
but the scars remain like
she tanned while wearing fishnets,
even if only for her to see
and still she avoids explaining.

"Look what I found!"

Tomorrow is Brianne's birthday. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. Instead, I'll update today. :-)

Ok, so what story to share about Brianne? There are so many! The tears, the laughter, the just plain stupid... They day I drove home at like 10pm to be the only one home except for the car waiting outside my driveway who blinded me with their headlights... The time she "cleaned my room" (and by "cleaned" we mean took everything out of the drawers then said she had to go home)... Then there are so many camp stories like the time we got peanut buttered... the endless conversations at 3 am (accompanied by phone calls from her roommate...)... The late-night on the moon bounce at my graduation party...

How do you sum up five years of memories in one blog? How do you pick your favorite? You rely on text messages from the source! I got a text message from her this weekend and it reminded me of a funny story I'm just going to have to share.

Brianne loves camp fires. Like REALLY loves camp fires. After sophomore year we were set to have one as a big group of people and Brianne came over early to help gather some wood from the woods behind my house. We'd collected several armloads of wood and had enough to keep the fire going for much longer than we would need. I'd left the woods and was working on something else in the backyard but made the mistake of allowing Brianne to gather on her own... She was behind the trees to where I couldn't see her, yet we were still talking.

"Perfect!" I heard her exclaim. A few minutes later she came out of the woods dragging a tree. Not just a lot of fire wood. Not just a really big branch. The whole stinkin' tree! There were still leaves on the top of it and everything! I asked her if she took and ax back there and chopped it down and she said no. I broke off a branch and sure enough, it wasn't green (I was glad otherwise I was going to make her...er... go put it back??). This tree took up half the back yard! We already had a plethora of sticks to burn and now we had a whole tree, too! I figured we'd chop the branches off said tree and burn the actual trunk later otherwise we'd be there all night. Brianne wasn't so keen on my idea but she enjoyed the idea of being there all night. She put the top of the tree in the fire pit and the other half stretched halfway to the swing set! (You think I'm kidding!) We lit the fire, made s'mores, and were enjoying good company. (I won't tell you that was the same bonfire we burned out chemistry notes, too...). Every now and again Brianne would stand up, grab the tree by the trunk and push it further and further into the pit. I was scared the tree was going to catch fire and her tree was going to burn all of our nice grass (Yes, I am a pyropohe). Brianne, on the other hand, had a blast! To this day, whenever she comes over for a bonfire I am forced to remind her what kind of sticks we like for fires and what kind of trees should be left alone... and she laughs remembering our first bonfire.

Love ya, girl! Happy Birthday!

<>< Katie

"David danced before the Lord with all his might." - 2 Samuel 6:14a