Camp Week 5 - Differences

One of the coolest things about camp is that I get to see a lot of it. My job allows me to visit a lot of the activity groups. I get to see that Christmas in July is chill, and Cars is rolling right up the walls. I get to see Dance campers trying on their poodle skirts for the first time, and sometimes I have the freedom to drop by Cook & Create just as the apple turn-overs are coming out of the ovens.

Have I mentioned before that "my job rocks"?

One of the coolest things I get to see is how God brings a whole lot of different staff members together to meet the needs of our campers. 

We are so different. 

The differences go beyond extrovert/introvert. They are as complex and multi-faceted as we are. There are differences in backgrounds, personalities, financial statuses, strengths, weaknesses, fears, joys, ages, and favorite snack foods - just to start the list.

We are so very different.

And this is just a fraction of what it looks like:

I've seen the leader with a loud voice and a big personality, take charge and rally a high-energy group of campers, tearing them away from toys to gather for carpet time with an ease that seems magical.

I've seen the quiet engineer keep free play time away from a hitting, punching, toy throwing chaos, because he's sitting on the floor building Legos right along with the campers and inspiring them to create their own visions.

I've seen the nurturer that is the first to hear a crying child, even if they are on the other side of the Zone. The one who wraps arms around and makes camp a safe and comfortable place, where minutes before it was loud and overwhelming.

I see the organizer who knows how to get all the towels, shoes, wet swim suits, and campers all in the right place on Water Day, with an efficiency that makes it look easy. (It most certainly is not.)

I see those who can multi- task to degree that brings a level of astonishment at how many different directions they can go in at once and still be cognizant of their surroundings. (Yes Stephanie, you are Elasti-girl.)

I see the protector, the one whose mind is on safety, who can handle the drama, blood, and sundry emergencies, even though we still aren't totally convinced about a taser. (I'm 99% there - just so you know.)

I see those who are driven to be busy, who keep camp running through a sheer expenditure of energy. The ones who don't give out until everyone else has left. And show up on the weekend because there was no one else.

I see the planners who have the schedule ingrained in their memory, who are figuring out choreography for next week, or how to make slime for painting - even though that activity isn't for another four days. And I have a deep appreciation for this, as do those who need to purchase supplies.

I see those with the creativity to come up with a new direction on the spot when the spoons for puppets were all used for dirt cup snacks in another activity group yesterday, or those who can tie Christmas in July to archery by stating that the red balloons are Rudolph's nose and get the campers singing Christmas songs while they wait their turn.

I see those who from a background of hurt are able to connect to campers who are facing hardships, campers whose families are dealing with divorces, anger, hurt, and grief. And while I never would have wished those scars and wounds on you, please know that in God's plan they turn into something beautiful when they put you on the path ahead of others so that you can show them the way.

We are different.

And those differences can work together in our favor to accomplish amazing things.

Amazing, miraculous things.

But,

those differences can also tear us apart.

You see, at this point in the summer the energy reserves start to bottom out. The quirks you were able to ignore on week 2 become traits that rub. And with enough time and tiredness the rubbing can get raw.

Our differences mean different ways of communicating. Different ways of working. Different ways of processing. Different ways of handling the strong emotions of fear, joy, grief, and discouragement. And pretty soon in all those differences the cracks of division start to form. They always will form. It's a law of humanity. Because we are all broken in the first place, coming together doesn't heal that. It just makes a bigger pile of broken.

It takes God to overcome that. And lest I lay all the responsibility for divisions and strife and malicious thoughts and actions at his feet. I will also state, that he will overcome it, if we are willing to follow his lead. The cracks become wider when we feed them. And when we follow God, they can heal.

What does that look like? 

• It means extending grace.
• It means tapping into patience, even though you've asked them to help that camper find their lunch four times now.
• It means finding kindness even when you really really don't feel like it, and it takes all that you have not to offer a sharp verbal slap.
• It means not envying the pay, responsibilities, positions, teams, campers, or friends that other staffers have that you do not.
• It doesn't fall into boasting about how well you handled lunch time or the potty emergencies or the bounce house mishap.
• It means not focusing on building yourself up, in your own eyes or the eyes of others. It can do a job quietly and not feed the need for recognition.
• It doesn't cut others off, or seek to be the first back to the bathrooms on water day, or leave messes for others to clean up.
• It means giving up the activity that you wanted to do in favor of someone else's idea. Or doing the "invisible jobs" that aren't recognized. Or forgetting about yourself and how silly that will look to make the day for a bunch of pre-schoolers - even though the pictures may haunt you on Facebook for years to come.
• It means swallowing anger when it rises - and with all those differences and all that rubbing - it will happen - friction builds fire, and you will have choices. Will you feed it or douse it?
• It means forgetting how many times that person has slighted you, it means not keeping track of all of the ways that fellow-staffer is failing to perform. It means not keeping track of all the times the big kids infringe on your space leaving you to do yet another head count to make sure your chicks haven't followed in their wake. (Because if you stop and think about it - we've infringed on their small group times with animated preschoolers all yelling "Boo Boo Butt!") yes that happened. sigh. and it was a group in my charge.
• It means not standing by waiting for others to fail at getting the carts up to lunch so that you can point it out. Or pointing out to your friends how incompetent they are and reveling in that on the inside.
• It means finding and pointing out the good. Telling others about how well they handled that difficult camper, or how much you appreciate their reliability. Finding the good and spot-lighting it. Being an encourager.
• It circles around our campers and each other with protective arms and words. It gives the needed back massage or the listening ear as a co-worker faces battles.
• It lays the impossibilities and hurts in hands that are infinitely bigger than ours and it works at leaving them there in trust.
• It finds the bright side, the mission, the hope for our campers and our friends and the co-worker that you still don't quite know yet. The hope that God will grow us this summer.
• And it means keeping on going. Putting one foot in front of the other. One more snack out on the table, one more activity in place, one more case of separation anxiety, hitting, kicking, or mean words to rest. It swallows frustration one more time. It extends grace to an upset parent one more time. It keeps on going until the finish line when the last snow cone is handed out, the last armband is scanned, the last block is replaced on the shelves and the last bin is stowed for the summer.

Heh, that's quite a list. And it isn't really mine. 

And just so it's entirely clear, I struggle with a whole lot on that list. This is one of those days when I am writing to myself more than anyone else. And I have to remember that in my flailing about trying my best to be patient, trying to forget myself and focus on others. In my struggle to trust. 
That it has a vector even though it is slow and struggling (and sometimes I can't see it) because of an amazing God. Allow yourself the room to struggle, the room to fight it forward. The Christian life is the hardest thing I've ever attempted. Struggling is living. 

And I would fail utterly and completely without two things. 

The first being the body of Christ, believers around me who have both differences and similarities. I would falter without the support of those who think like I do, and those who have a completely different mold. I need all of you whom God has placed in my life. Each and every one of you.

And I need God. yeah. That one almost doesn't have to be said does it. Because tackling I Corinthians 13 in real life is just not going to happen without supernatural power. And even though I hung out a lot with Super Hero camp last week, I know it didn't rub off enough to make it another week with out the real deal.

But to all my co-workers on this path with me, when camp is over. 

I vote for going for shawarma.