To anyone who has ever felt summer love,
During my first week at camp this summer, I overheard a realtor mention a piece of land about to go on the market--two beautiful acres adjoining the camp. The current owner was a master gardener who had planted wildflowers, sprayed the pine trees for mistletoe and started clearing the land for a house. There were young aspen groves, a rare loan limber pine and views of Mt. Columbia, Mt. Yale and the Buffalo Peaks Wilderness. The price seemed reasonable; my curiosity was piqued. The realtor said she’d email me a flyer. Later in the day, I decided to drive into town for some ice cream. However, I found myself turning the car in the opposite direction and began to explore “Game Trail” looking for the lot. I didn’t have the address and couldn’t find the “For Sale” sign, but I enjoyed seeing the diverse homes and began to imagine what life in this mountain valley subdivision might feel like.
For over a week, I waited for the email from the realtor, but it never came. Then finally, one afternoon I was working in the camp office and saw a flyer for the property on the bulletin board. My heart skipped a beat. I now had photos of the view, the trees and an address. Did I dare go look? I made a quick drive by. The wooded street was so peaceful, so beautiful. My head and heart had already been wistfully spinning and turning—sometimes merely daydreaming about buying land in this community, sometimes “talking to myself” and rationalizing what a good investment the land could be, sometimes blissfully relishing the thought of doing something completely crazy. Of course, there were other times when the whole idea seemed absurd; however, it usually was pretty easy to quell the voice of reason. After seeing the property, I knew I had to show it to Michael when he arrived in a few days.
We walked the lot together. “Ours” we called it as we tried to locate the exact boundaries. We made a long list of questions for the realtor. Surely there would be some catch, some answer that would cast a negative light on the whole idea. There wasn’t. So, I got information about various lenders to look into financing. We began to talk about the kind of house we’d like to build someday. Maybe we could build sooner, rather than later—a place which would be a vacation house for now and eventually our permanent home. The kids could bring friends there for skiing trips during winter and spring breaks. We’d build family memories for years to come. We'd build a house laid-out so Mike’s parents could come visit. We’d help Papa get around while Mom relaxed—enjoying views and a lifestyle reminiscent of her brothers’ homes in Canada. Even when we weren’t there, friends and guests of the camp would be welcome to use our vacation house. It would be a blessing, not just for our immediate family, but others.
Back home from camp, I spent days looking at house plans on the internet. At first I hardly knew what I was looking for, what I/we liked. The realtor had mentioned a passive solar home. This idea struck a chord with our values--green, economical and unique. One night I found a plan that beautifully met most of our desires. It didn’t take long for me to be able to imagine us in the house. I thought about furnishings—inexpensive, colorful and versatile. I had fun realizing what things we already had to take and use there. We have two games of Scrabble, Backgammon, Sorry, Aggravation and Uno, an extra vacuum, some rockers, a microwave and single beds. We’d build bare bones at first and add a garage and some of the appliances later.
Finally, it was time to decide whether or not to move forward, to make an offer on the lot. We reasoned, prayed and eventually came to the conclusion that this wasn’t the right way to invest our energies and money right now. As wonderful as the property is, we aren't ready to commit to this geographical location forever. It was hard to let go, but a few days later I awoke to hear the “still small voice”—the assurance from God that we’d made the right decision.
I assumed that after the “still, small voice” my thoughts of the land and house would fade, and indeed my longing for them, that “got to have it” feeling, has disappeared; but I find my thought still drifting towards that simple straw bale structure filled with bookcases and sliding pocket doors. When we were at Office Max the other day, I tried out a collapsible dorm room chair that would have been great in the Colorado house’s living room.
I’ve questioned why this unbuilt house still seems so real to me, so much a part of me--why I think of it fondly almost like a friend? Then I realized the idea had indeed befriended me—called to me, begged me to entertain it, and in doing so helped me learn things about myself, what I value, what I like. I learned to dream again, to think with happy expectation about what the future can bring. This marvelous piece of land gave me a taste of summer love, something which I’ve read and seen movies about, but which as a teenager never experienced. Sad or bittersweet when it ends, in time its memories bring only smiles and hope...smiles of gratitude for the experience and hope that it’s magic will come again at another season in a more enduring form.
So as summer draws to a close, join me on my imaginary porch next to the built-in outdoor fireplace (for winter s’mores of course), fill your glass with iced sun tea and join me in a knowing, happy toast. “To summer love!”
Cheers,
Maria
Showing posts with label camp. Show all posts
Showing posts with label camp. Show all posts
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Prayer Pictures
Dear Friend,
Tomorrow we head home from camp. We’ll have a full car with our family of four plus two friends—one each for Heidi and Lincoln. We’ve enjoyed being here. The time has flown by, but I’ll be ready to hit the road and begin the adventures of another school year.
This session has been so different from my first two weeks at camp. My prayer time (literally time) has completely changed. The 4 a.m. wakings I learned to enjoy earlier in the summer have been replaced by equally rewarding middle of the night prayer moments. I’m learning to be grateful for the prayers God gives me at whatever time and in whatever form they come.
One morning before coming to camp, my prayers came to me as pictures; not just metaphors but mental images—almost like photographs or short video clips. There was one for each member of my family—Michael, Heidi and Lincoln. In the “photos” they had big smiles on their faces as they engaged in various new activities, confidently radiating qualities that I had been cherishing as inseparable from their experience—qualities such as individuality, grace, courage, friendship. I even had a prayer picture for our pets. I was seeking assurance that they would be happy while we were gone. The “snapshot” included all four animals together on our living room floor sitting contentedly at the feet of our house-sitter—the dogs panting; the cats swishing their tails.
During “alone with your thoughts time” my first week at camp, I realized I didn’t have a prayer picture for myself and asked God for one. I saw myself as a soaring bird looking down on everything going on below. This picture has been a reminder throughout camp to look at things from a higher, spiritual perspective, to let God’s thoughts lift me above the fray.
I have returned to these mental pictures over and over again in my daily prayers for my self and family. They remain vivid reminders that our perspectives and being come from and reflect God. Sometimes prayers come as hymns or favorite Bible verses or perhaps as simple affirmations of God’s Allness. Sometimes I mentally reason or ponder spiritual facts as they relate to day-to-day events. But I’ve come to look forward to and especially enjoy the prayer pictures. They feel so new and refreshing to me. I can’t wait until God sends another my way.
Happy August!
Much love,
Maria
Tomorrow we head home from camp. We’ll have a full car with our family of four plus two friends—one each for Heidi and Lincoln. We’ve enjoyed being here. The time has flown by, but I’ll be ready to hit the road and begin the adventures of another school year.
This session has been so different from my first two weeks at camp. My prayer time (literally time) has completely changed. The 4 a.m. wakings I learned to enjoy earlier in the summer have been replaced by equally rewarding middle of the night prayer moments. I’m learning to be grateful for the prayers God gives me at whatever time and in whatever form they come.
One morning before coming to camp, my prayers came to me as pictures; not just metaphors but mental images—almost like photographs or short video clips. There was one for each member of my family—Michael, Heidi and Lincoln. In the “photos” they had big smiles on their faces as they engaged in various new activities, confidently radiating qualities that I had been cherishing as inseparable from their experience—qualities such as individuality, grace, courage, friendship. I even had a prayer picture for our pets. I was seeking assurance that they would be happy while we were gone. The “snapshot” included all four animals together on our living room floor sitting contentedly at the feet of our house-sitter—the dogs panting; the cats swishing their tails.
During “alone with your thoughts time” my first week at camp, I realized I didn’t have a prayer picture for myself and asked God for one. I saw myself as a soaring bird looking down on everything going on below. This picture has been a reminder throughout camp to look at things from a higher, spiritual perspective, to let God’s thoughts lift me above the fray.
I have returned to these mental pictures over and over again in my daily prayers for my self and family. They remain vivid reminders that our perspectives and being come from and reflect God. Sometimes prayers come as hymns or favorite Bible verses or perhaps as simple affirmations of God’s Allness. Sometimes I mentally reason or ponder spiritual facts as they relate to day-to-day events. But I’ve come to look forward to and especially enjoy the prayer pictures. They feel so new and refreshing to me. I can’t wait until God sends another my way.
Happy August!
Much love,
Maria
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Cherishing Spiritual Healing
Dear Friend,
I have learned so many spiritual lessons at camp this summer, and there’s still a week to go! Last session I made a trip to Grand Junction to visit my cousin and his wife. We had some wonderful discussions about spirituality and relationships. I was reminded how important it is to get “I want” out of my vocabulary and instead to trust what God wants. He knows what we truly need both individually and collectively.
Sometimes my “I wants” seem pretty reasonable. Recently I really wanted a good night sleep. The next day’s activities called for early rising and mental alertness. However, I was awakened in the night by a camper needing help. I confess that my first thought was, “Oh no.” Fortunately my best and true self came through, and I was quickly up providing needed physical and spiritual comfort. I remembered that “Giving does not impoverish us…” (from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures). The camper soon settled down and went back to sleep, but I stayed awake for a while longer praying.
The other day I mentioned to you that the thought of perhaps some day making myself available to pray for others was kind of scary. Well, I had volunteered to pray for the camper; so now I had to face this fear. The Bible says, “perfect love casteth out fear.” It occurred to me that I needed to love the healing practice of Christian Science with all my heart. I began by being grateful for all the healings I’ve had, for the Christian Science practitioners who have on so many occasions prayed for me and my family—sometimes in the middle of the night or while they were on family vacations. I thought of the Christ communicating exactly the healing ideas needed to practitioners and patients everywhere 24/7. I loved the courage and expectancy of good expressed by those seeking spiritual healing and the joy and confidence with which Christian Science practitioners welcome every call. I fell asleep rejoicing in the ever-presence of the divine Love that heals. I awoke the next morning refreshed; the camper awakened well.
I hope that I never again let myself be afraid of being called to the Christian Science practice. There simply can’t be anything scary about something so God-governed. Being a practitioner may not be what God has planned for me (I’m going to try not to outline what I do or don’t “want” in this regard), yet regardless of my vocation, I intend to do a better job of cherishing spiritual healing in support of all those seeking and providing it. This deeper, more intimate love of the Christian Science practice may be one of the most important things I take home from camp this year.
Thanks for the thoughts about the practice that you’ve shared with me recently. I’m looking forward to hearing more about your summer activities and inspirations!
With love,
Maria
Postscripts: After finishing this letter, I remembered that in Miscellaneous Writings, Mary Baker Eddy says, “In different ages the divine idea assumes different forms, according to humanity's needs. In this age it assumes, more intelligently than ever before, the form of Christian healing. This is the babe we are to cherish. This is the babe that twines its loving arms about the neck of omnipotence, and calls forth infinite care from His loving heart.”
I have learned so many spiritual lessons at camp this summer, and there’s still a week to go! Last session I made a trip to Grand Junction to visit my cousin and his wife. We had some wonderful discussions about spirituality and relationships. I was reminded how important it is to get “I want” out of my vocabulary and instead to trust what God wants. He knows what we truly need both individually and collectively.
Sometimes my “I wants” seem pretty reasonable. Recently I really wanted a good night sleep. The next day’s activities called for early rising and mental alertness. However, I was awakened in the night by a camper needing help. I confess that my first thought was, “Oh no.” Fortunately my best and true self came through, and I was quickly up providing needed physical and spiritual comfort. I remembered that “Giving does not impoverish us…” (from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures). The camper soon settled down and went back to sleep, but I stayed awake for a while longer praying.
The other day I mentioned to you that the thought of perhaps some day making myself available to pray for others was kind of scary. Well, I had volunteered to pray for the camper; so now I had to face this fear. The Bible says, “perfect love casteth out fear.” It occurred to me that I needed to love the healing practice of Christian Science with all my heart. I began by being grateful for all the healings I’ve had, for the Christian Science practitioners who have on so many occasions prayed for me and my family—sometimes in the middle of the night or while they were on family vacations. I thought of the Christ communicating exactly the healing ideas needed to practitioners and patients everywhere 24/7. I loved the courage and expectancy of good expressed by those seeking spiritual healing and the joy and confidence with which Christian Science practitioners welcome every call. I fell asleep rejoicing in the ever-presence of the divine Love that heals. I awoke the next morning refreshed; the camper awakened well.
I hope that I never again let myself be afraid of being called to the Christian Science practice. There simply can’t be anything scary about something so God-governed. Being a practitioner may not be what God has planned for me (I’m going to try not to outline what I do or don’t “want” in this regard), yet regardless of my vocation, I intend to do a better job of cherishing spiritual healing in support of all those seeking and providing it. This deeper, more intimate love of the Christian Science practice may be one of the most important things I take home from camp this year.
Thanks for the thoughts about the practice that you’ve shared with me recently. I’m looking forward to hearing more about your summer activities and inspirations!
With love,
Maria
Postscripts: After finishing this letter, I remembered that in Miscellaneous Writings, Mary Baker Eddy says, “In different ages the divine idea assumes different forms, according to humanity's needs. In this age it assumes, more intelligently than ever before, the form of Christian healing. This is the babe we are to cherish. This is the babe that twines its loving arms about the neck of omnipotence, and calls forth infinite care from His loving heart.”
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Camp's "Magic"
Dear Michael,
I have been thinking more about what makes summers at the Adventure Unlimited Ranches seem so magical, why no one leaves camp the same person as when he or she came. I was recently reading "Miscellaneous Writings" (by Mary Baker Eddy) and got my first clue: "...let us say of the beauties of the sensuous universe, 'I love your promise;' and shall know, some time, the spiritual reality and substance of form, light, and color, of what I now through you discern dimly; and knowing this, I shall
be satisfied." That promise is so evident, so inescapable here in the mountains. The surrounding beauty sings of God's presence and like a catchy tune keeps echoing in thought throughout the day.
And at A/U, as at all the Christian Science camps, inspiration is "in." There is an irresitable, refreshing expectation of spiritual growth. I found my second clue in "Science and Health" (also by Eddy), "...expectation speeds our progress."
I also know that the staff here at camp, the parents of campers, as well as the campers themselves are actively praying for camp--for our individual and collective experiences. I've been waking up between 4 and 5 in the morning to find my consciousness so filled with such clear purposeful prayers--prayers that join the mountains in celebrating God's allness. For a night owl, who normally just doesn't function before 7, these now eagerly welcomed sunrise moments are in themselves miracles.
I can’t wait to have you join me next session as a bunkhouse parent. In thinking about our time together, a line from a Mary Baker Eddy's poem "Love" came to thought, “like brother birds that soar and sing and on the same branch bend…” God is supplying the thermals. The camp songs are abundant. There’s “magic” in the air. I know you and Lincoln will love A/U!
See you soon! With hugs and kisses eager to be delivered in person,
Your Maria
I have been thinking more about what makes summers at the Adventure Unlimited Ranches seem so magical, why no one leaves camp the same person as when he or she came. I was recently reading "Miscellaneous Writings" (by Mary Baker Eddy) and got my first clue: "...let us say of the beauties of the sensuous universe, 'I love your promise;' and shall know, some time, the spiritual reality and substance of form, light, and color, of what I now through you discern dimly; and knowing this, I shall
be satisfied." That promise is so evident, so inescapable here in the mountains. The surrounding beauty sings of God's presence and like a catchy tune keeps echoing in thought throughout the day.
And at A/U, as at all the Christian Science camps, inspiration is "in." There is an irresitable, refreshing expectation of spiritual growth. I found my second clue in "Science and Health" (also by Eddy), "...expectation speeds our progress."
I also know that the staff here at camp, the parents of campers, as well as the campers themselves are actively praying for camp--for our individual and collective experiences. I've been waking up between 4 and 5 in the morning to find my consciousness so filled with such clear purposeful prayers--prayers that join the mountains in celebrating God's allness. For a night owl, who normally just doesn't function before 7, these now eagerly welcomed sunrise moments are in themselves miracles.
I can’t wait to have you join me next session as a bunkhouse parent. In thinking about our time together, a line from a Mary Baker Eddy's poem "Love" came to thought, “like brother birds that soar and sing and on the same branch bend…” God is supplying the thermals. The camp songs are abundant. There’s “magic” in the air. I know you and Lincoln will love A/U!
See you soon! With hugs and kisses eager to be delivered in person,
Your Maria
Friday, July 13, 2007
"The Law of Kindness"
Dear Jeff,
Just over a week ago, I was busy putting the finishing touches on packing the family for our various camping experiences. Mike and Lincoln were preparing to head south to one camp and Heidi and I west to another. Suitcases, duffle bags, and backpacks lined the living room waiting to be put into cars, but mentally I was far from ready to go. I was so tired physically and emotionally that the drive to camp seemed as daunting as the thought of peaking one of the 14,000 foot mountains surrounding camp. I knew Heidi would be a good traveling companion, but she couldn’t help with the actual driving; and she was so excited about camp I could tell it would be hard to keep pace with her happy chatter. I realized that I had to humbly put the trip in God’s hands and asked a friend to help me pray about the drive.
I should know by now that when I let go of fear and completely trust God, amazing things happen. However, you took me completely by surprise when you told me you’d bought a one-way plane ticket back from camp so that you could drive out with me. True you’d get to see your wife—the love of your life who just also happened to be at camp, but only for one short night. The main reason you were making the trip was out of a deep love for my family, a brotherly “being there for you.” What a weight you lifted off my shoulders! When I went to bed that night I was exhausted, yet filled with hope. I’m not an early riser. For me getting out of bed before 7 am is early, but I awoke at 4:40 the next morning without the alarm clock, awake and ready to go. As we drove, the miles and hours flew by. I loved having someone to share the driving with, having you join me in appreciating Heidi’s exuberance, talking about life and listening to all the CDs you brought along—wonderful artists I’d never heard before.
Not a day has passed when I haven’t thought of your kindness. It has been a beacon of Love helping me settle in and find my niche at camp, helping melt away the concerns that seemed so burdensome before our trip, and giving me such tangible proof of God's care to draw upon.
Yet for days I’ve sensed that there was more to this story—a bigger lesson for me to learn. I was so struck by your kindness. My family has individually and collectively received very unselfish and generous gifts before, so I’ve wondered why this gift has left me somewhat speechless, why it has taken me so many attempts to write this letter. Last night I thought of Mary anointing Jesus’ feet with expensive ointment. Judas suggested that Mary should have sold the ointment instead and given the money to the poor. Jesus replied, “Let her alone: against the day of my burying hath she kept this. For the poor always ye have with you; but me ye have not always had." (John 12) Suddenly I glimpsed how much Mary’s expression of love must have meant to Jesus, helping strengthen him for the crucifixion. Even Jesus needed human expressions of kindness!
A hymn in the Christian Science hymnal (#178) says, “Jesus knew the law of kindness, healing mind and heart of blindness….” I probably could have “demonstrated” the drive out alone. There have been many times in my life when moment by moment reliance on God has pulled me through fatigue and other difficulties, but one more proof of this type wasn’t my true need. I needed to feel the effects of God’s law of kindness. My heart was unknowingly so hungry for it. I’ve had the opportunity to give significant gifts and enjoyed the satisfaction that comes from helping meet someone’s need, but now I understand in a much deeper way what it feels like to be the receiver---the warmth in the heart, the awe at the power of Love. There was something so pure, so intuitive, so timely about your gift. I too want to practice the law of kindness that heals, to give gifts both practical and prayerful that are so imbued with love that their healing balm sends ripples into the universe.
By the way, yesterday Heidi and 17 fellow campers peaked Mount Columbia—one of Colorado’s amazing 14,000 foot peaks. Although usually not very athletic, she knew she’d be able to do it with the help of her friends, with the oil of kindness.
Mike and I both are so grateful for your friendship. Thank you for being an exemplary Mary.
With love,
Maria
Just over a week ago, I was busy putting the finishing touches on packing the family for our various camping experiences. Mike and Lincoln were preparing to head south to one camp and Heidi and I west to another. Suitcases, duffle bags, and backpacks lined the living room waiting to be put into cars, but mentally I was far from ready to go. I was so tired physically and emotionally that the drive to camp seemed as daunting as the thought of peaking one of the 14,000 foot mountains surrounding camp. I knew Heidi would be a good traveling companion, but she couldn’t help with the actual driving; and she was so excited about camp I could tell it would be hard to keep pace with her happy chatter. I realized that I had to humbly put the trip in God’s hands and asked a friend to help me pray about the drive.
I should know by now that when I let go of fear and completely trust God, amazing things happen. However, you took me completely by surprise when you told me you’d bought a one-way plane ticket back from camp so that you could drive out with me. True you’d get to see your wife—the love of your life who just also happened to be at camp, but only for one short night. The main reason you were making the trip was out of a deep love for my family, a brotherly “being there for you.” What a weight you lifted off my shoulders! When I went to bed that night I was exhausted, yet filled with hope. I’m not an early riser. For me getting out of bed before 7 am is early, but I awoke at 4:40 the next morning without the alarm clock, awake and ready to go. As we drove, the miles and hours flew by. I loved having someone to share the driving with, having you join me in appreciating Heidi’s exuberance, talking about life and listening to all the CDs you brought along—wonderful artists I’d never heard before.
Not a day has passed when I haven’t thought of your kindness. It has been a beacon of Love helping me settle in and find my niche at camp, helping melt away the concerns that seemed so burdensome before our trip, and giving me such tangible proof of God's care to draw upon.
Yet for days I’ve sensed that there was more to this story—a bigger lesson for me to learn. I was so struck by your kindness. My family has individually and collectively received very unselfish and generous gifts before, so I’ve wondered why this gift has left me somewhat speechless, why it has taken me so many attempts to write this letter. Last night I thought of Mary anointing Jesus’ feet with expensive ointment. Judas suggested that Mary should have sold the ointment instead and given the money to the poor. Jesus replied, “Let her alone: against the day of my burying hath she kept this. For the poor always ye have with you; but me ye have not always had." (John 12) Suddenly I glimpsed how much Mary’s expression of love must have meant to Jesus, helping strengthen him for the crucifixion. Even Jesus needed human expressions of kindness!
A hymn in the Christian Science hymnal (#178) says, “Jesus knew the law of kindness, healing mind and heart of blindness….” I probably could have “demonstrated” the drive out alone. There have been many times in my life when moment by moment reliance on God has pulled me through fatigue and other difficulties, but one more proof of this type wasn’t my true need. I needed to feel the effects of God’s law of kindness. My heart was unknowingly so hungry for it. I’ve had the opportunity to give significant gifts and enjoyed the satisfaction that comes from helping meet someone’s need, but now I understand in a much deeper way what it feels like to be the receiver---the warmth in the heart, the awe at the power of Love. There was something so pure, so intuitive, so timely about your gift. I too want to practice the law of kindness that heals, to give gifts both practical and prayerful that are so imbued with love that their healing balm sends ripples into the universe.
By the way, yesterday Heidi and 17 fellow campers peaked Mount Columbia—one of Colorado’s amazing 14,000 foot peaks. Although usually not very athletic, she knew she’d be able to do it with the help of her friends, with the oil of kindness.
Mike and I both are so grateful for your friendship. Thank you for being an exemplary Mary.
With love,
Maria
Friday, June 29, 2007
"Flood-tides of Love"
Dear Michael,
I really enjoyed reading the beginning of "Christian Science Practice" with you last night (one of my favorite chapters in Mary Baker Eddy's Science and Health with key to the Scriptures). As we read, I was reminded me of one the most wonderful healings I've ever witnessed. It occurred when I was a senior counselor at Cedars Camps--I think it was the summer that we were there together (when we baked cookies on our day off, and you embarrassed me by singing "I just met a girl named Maria" in the shower). I was in charge of the Bobolink cabin--home to energetic nine-year olds. One Sunday afternoon, a little girl was dropped off by her parents with a long list of things they didn't think she would be able to do--ride horses, play running games, sleep on the top bunk. Casey struggled with asthma, and it seemed like the next two weeks were indeed going to be very trying for her--breathing was difficult and getting her to sleep that first night took time, prayer and lots of hymn singing.
The next morning we went to visit Marjorie at PAL house. (PAL stands for "Practitioner's Are Loving.") Wasn't it wonderful to have a Christian Science practitioner on site to help pray with campers and counselors when needed! Marjorie agreed to pray for Casey and referred me to Science and Health where it says, "The way to extract error from mortal mind is to pour in truth through flood-tides of Love." And, "The tender word and Christian encouragement of an invalid, pitiful patience with his fears and the removal of them, are better than hecatombs of gushing theories, stereotyped borrowed speeches, and the doling of arguments, which are but so many parodies on legitimate Christian Science, aflame with divine Love." (We read this second quote last night.) With her prayers, Marjorie would be pouring in the truth--affirming Casey's unlimited abilities as God's daughter. My job was to help with the "flood-tides of love" and "pitiful patience" with Casey's many many fears.
All the counselors and even Casey's cabin mates helped pour in the love. Her friends so naturally and patiently encouraged her to participate in camp activities. Horseback riding seemed to be Casey's biggest fear. I wondered if we'd ever get her to the corral. She simply refused to even consider getting on a horse. Looking forward to some quiet time alone in the cabin, I asked "What do we do now God?" The idea came to use my period off to go horseback riding with Casey--a shower and nap could wait. Casey agreed to give it a try; and the ride was a turing point in her experience. Nights got easier, and she actively participated in games, dances, and campouts. At the end of the session, Casey rode solo in the horse show, was sleeping soundly on the top bunk, and all traces of asthma were completely gone--washed away by prayer and those sparkling, purifying "flood-tides of Love."
So, dear husband, as we pack this week for our upcoming camp adventures, I want to remember to put "pitiful patience" and "flood-tides of Love" on top of the long underwear, water bottles, and sleeping bags--on top and ready to pull out and put to immediate, moment by moment use. And, this time around, it's OK by me if you sing in the shower.
I love you! Hugs and kisses,
Maria
I really enjoyed reading the beginning of "Christian Science Practice" with you last night (one of my favorite chapters in Mary Baker Eddy's Science and Health with key to the Scriptures). As we read, I was reminded me of one the most wonderful healings I've ever witnessed. It occurred when I was a senior counselor at Cedars Camps--I think it was the summer that we were there together (when we baked cookies on our day off, and you embarrassed me by singing "I just met a girl named Maria" in the shower). I was in charge of the Bobolink cabin--home to energetic nine-year olds. One Sunday afternoon, a little girl was dropped off by her parents with a long list of things they didn't think she would be able to do--ride horses, play running games, sleep on the top bunk. Casey struggled with asthma, and it seemed like the next two weeks were indeed going to be very trying for her--breathing was difficult and getting her to sleep that first night took time, prayer and lots of hymn singing.
The next morning we went to visit Marjorie at PAL house. (PAL stands for "Practitioner's Are Loving.") Wasn't it wonderful to have a Christian Science practitioner on site to help pray with campers and counselors when needed! Marjorie agreed to pray for Casey and referred me to Science and Health where it says, "The way to extract error from mortal mind is to pour in truth through flood-tides of Love." And, "The tender word and Christian encouragement of an invalid, pitiful patience with his fears and the removal of them, are better than hecatombs of gushing theories, stereotyped borrowed speeches, and the doling of arguments, which are but so many parodies on legitimate Christian Science, aflame with divine Love." (We read this second quote last night.) With her prayers, Marjorie would be pouring in the truth--affirming Casey's unlimited abilities as God's daughter. My job was to help with the "flood-tides of love" and "pitiful patience" with Casey's many many fears.
All the counselors and even Casey's cabin mates helped pour in the love. Her friends so naturally and patiently encouraged her to participate in camp activities. Horseback riding seemed to be Casey's biggest fear. I wondered if we'd ever get her to the corral. She simply refused to even consider getting on a horse. Looking forward to some quiet time alone in the cabin, I asked "What do we do now God?" The idea came to use my period off to go horseback riding with Casey--a shower and nap could wait. Casey agreed to give it a try; and the ride was a turing point in her experience. Nights got easier, and she actively participated in games, dances, and campouts. At the end of the session, Casey rode solo in the horse show, was sleeping soundly on the top bunk, and all traces of asthma were completely gone--washed away by prayer and those sparkling, purifying "flood-tides of Love."
So, dear husband, as we pack this week for our upcoming camp adventures, I want to remember to put "pitiful patience" and "flood-tides of Love" on top of the long underwear, water bottles, and sleeping bags--on top and ready to pull out and put to immediate, moment by moment use. And, this time around, it's OK by me if you sing in the shower.
I love you! Hugs and kisses,
Maria
Friday, June 22, 2007
Compassion on My Humanity
Dear Kate,
Tonight my life was written in the cards, the cards in Apples to Apples Junior that is. We sometimes pretend that the cards we win in this game describe us. While my family was gathering cards praising them as amazing, talented, bright, entertaining and gentle, my hand was "fearful, sneaky, frail, plain and gigantic" (which of course I took to mean my dress size). In many ways, the last few weeks have been tough, and the cards seemed to say it all. However, as we continued playing and laughing, I warmed up to the game, and the cards began to even out. One of my last cards was "playful" --a fitting affirmation of the happy togetherness we were all enjoying.
Summer is always interesting in our home as we get used to all being under the same roof for long stretches of time, jostling play dates, trying to complete final projects at work, cleaning up from Heidi's yummy but messy cooking spurts (it's not all her fault--our kitchen is tiny), and trying to get organized for camp--the four weeks this summer that hold such promise of adventure, joy and unselfed love. For awhile I was feeling guilty because I was so hungry for a break. Then I remembered that as much as I've loved my new job, it is the first time in over 14 years that I've worked full-time. I used to believe that I was a good multitasker, but there were times at work this year when I felt so disorganized; yet it occured to me yesterday that in previous jobs my tasks were usually related (such as pieces of the search process when I worked in Human Resources), but this year my projects have been very diverse and were often done in brand new ways for the school (not just me)--like adopting an electronic box office and creating a campus-wide master calendar in Outlook.
Your blog today about camp, Stone River Reflections: Feels Like Home to Me, made me cry. The best self you describe finding each summer seems to be playing hide and seek with me these days. Sometimes the search for it has been exasperating, but I haven't given up. As I read your blog, I was wrapping up another day at work with projects I'd expected to finish still incomplete. That best self was once again eluding me. I sooo hoped that I too would find it in an enduring way at camp. Perhaps this hope, this simple desire, truly was a prayer. I soon felt God telling me, "You've really done OK this year. Don't hold the last few weeks against yourself. You did find that best self at camp last summer, and for the most part kept it at the forefront all year. There have even been some brights spots in the last few weeks. Hang in there; I'll help you. Camp is coming soon. Have compassion on your humanity."
"Have compassion on your humanity" is an idea I came across many years ago; it might have even been in something you wrote. I've been so grateful for those words of wisdom. Feeling compassion for myself has helped me keep going the past few days--helped me move from "fearful" to "playful." This compassion has been a moment to moment choice to stop seeing shortcomings and instead to recognize and celebrate all the little ways God does express himself as Maria. It's clearly an ongoing adventure.
So, save a seat for me and my best self by the lake! We'll see you in a few weeks!
Hugs and love,
Maria
Tonight my life was written in the cards, the cards in Apples to Apples Junior that is. We sometimes pretend that the cards we win in this game describe us. While my family was gathering cards praising them as amazing, talented, bright, entertaining and gentle, my hand was "fearful, sneaky, frail, plain and gigantic" (which of course I took to mean my dress size). In many ways, the last few weeks have been tough, and the cards seemed to say it all. However, as we continued playing and laughing, I warmed up to the game, and the cards began to even out. One of my last cards was "playful" --a fitting affirmation of the happy togetherness we were all enjoying.
Summer is always interesting in our home as we get used to all being under the same roof for long stretches of time, jostling play dates, trying to complete final projects at work, cleaning up from Heidi's yummy but messy cooking spurts (it's not all her fault--our kitchen is tiny), and trying to get organized for camp--the four weeks this summer that hold such promise of adventure, joy and unselfed love. For awhile I was feeling guilty because I was so hungry for a break. Then I remembered that as much as I've loved my new job, it is the first time in over 14 years that I've worked full-time. I used to believe that I was a good multitasker, but there were times at work this year when I felt so disorganized; yet it occured to me yesterday that in previous jobs my tasks were usually related (such as pieces of the search process when I worked in Human Resources), but this year my projects have been very diverse and were often done in brand new ways for the school (not just me)--like adopting an electronic box office and creating a campus-wide master calendar in Outlook.
Your blog today about camp, Stone River Reflections: Feels Like Home to Me, made me cry. The best self you describe finding each summer seems to be playing hide and seek with me these days. Sometimes the search for it has been exasperating, but I haven't given up. As I read your blog, I was wrapping up another day at work with projects I'd expected to finish still incomplete. That best self was once again eluding me. I sooo hoped that I too would find it in an enduring way at camp. Perhaps this hope, this simple desire, truly was a prayer. I soon felt God telling me, "You've really done OK this year. Don't hold the last few weeks against yourself. You did find that best self at camp last summer, and for the most part kept it at the forefront all year. There have even been some brights spots in the last few weeks. Hang in there; I'll help you. Camp is coming soon. Have compassion on your humanity."
"Have compassion on your humanity" is an idea I came across many years ago; it might have even been in something you wrote. I've been so grateful for those words of wisdom. Feeling compassion for myself has helped me keep going the past few days--helped me move from "fearful" to "playful." This compassion has been a moment to moment choice to stop seeing shortcomings and instead to recognize and celebrate all the little ways God does express himself as Maria. It's clearly an ongoing adventure.
So, save a seat for me and my best self by the lake! We'll see you in a few weeks!
Hugs and love,
Maria
Saturday, June 02, 2007
You made a difference!
Dear Katie,
As I write this you are probably still on the campus green, wearing your white graduation gown, enjoying pastries and punch, visiting with family and friends, and beaming with a smile as big as the Cheshire Cat's. I'm so glad I got to be at your graduation this morning. The speaker talked about how the Class of 2007 will not only make a difference in the future, but has done so already just by the way they've lived their lives. Her comments made me think of you.
Before going to camp last summer as a rookie bunkhouse mom, I spent several months praying about my unknown cabin--rejoicing that God would put each person in their right place. I knew that God would make sure everyone came with everything needed to flourish--not just socks and waterbottles, but the courage, health, joy and other qualities which would help them give, grow, and have fun. I was thinking mostly about the campers, but I now have no doubt that the fruits of my prayers put me in Cabin J with you, Eva and Mary Beth. Over the next two weeks as I listened to you tell bedtime stories to our third-graders about their adventures as princesses, as I joined you in singing our girls to sleep with hymns in four part harmony, and as I laughed so hard I cried while eating M&M's and joking with you and other counselors under the stars, I began to discover parts of myself that I hardly new existed. You helped me realize that I am a fun, somewhat "with it" person. Just by sharing your joyful friendship, you gave me the courage to apply for my current job where I interact with high schoolers on a regular basis--you gave me hope that teenagers would actually accept and maybe even like me.
I've really enjoyed working in the Head of School's office this year. I never thought there could be a job I liked as much as being a camp counselor, but I think I've found one. As you and your 62 classmates walked across the stage today, I knew almost every one of you by name. In one way or another each member of your class has crossed my path this year--some merely as names, but most as friends. I've had so much fun watching your lights shine, encouraging me by your examples to live my own life to the fullest now.
I love how every time I saw you in the hall or school lobby you had a smile for me, the fun way you'd say "Maria" with a Spanish flair, how your kindness let me know that I had a special friend nearby if ever needed. You have a wonderful way of making others feel comfortable, loved and special. We never did make it out for ice cream this year, but I have no doubt our paths will cross again, and then I owe you a hot fudge sundae or two.
Thank you Katie for making a difference in my life. Congratulation on your graduation!
Hugs, best wishes and so much love,
Maria
As I write this you are probably still on the campus green, wearing your white graduation gown, enjoying pastries and punch, visiting with family and friends, and beaming with a smile as big as the Cheshire Cat's. I'm so glad I got to be at your graduation this morning. The speaker talked about how the Class of 2007 will not only make a difference in the future, but has done so already just by the way they've lived their lives. Her comments made me think of you.
Before going to camp last summer as a rookie bunkhouse mom, I spent several months praying about my unknown cabin--rejoicing that God would put each person in their right place. I knew that God would make sure everyone came with everything needed to flourish--not just socks and waterbottles, but the courage, health, joy and other qualities which would help them give, grow, and have fun. I was thinking mostly about the campers, but I now have no doubt that the fruits of my prayers put me in Cabin J with you, Eva and Mary Beth. Over the next two weeks as I listened to you tell bedtime stories to our third-graders about their adventures as princesses, as I joined you in singing our girls to sleep with hymns in four part harmony, and as I laughed so hard I cried while eating M&M's and joking with you and other counselors under the stars, I began to discover parts of myself that I hardly new existed. You helped me realize that I am a fun, somewhat "with it" person. Just by sharing your joyful friendship, you gave me the courage to apply for my current job where I interact with high schoolers on a regular basis--you gave me hope that teenagers would actually accept and maybe even like me.
I've really enjoyed working in the Head of School's office this year. I never thought there could be a job I liked as much as being a camp counselor, but I think I've found one. As you and your 62 classmates walked across the stage today, I knew almost every one of you by name. In one way or another each member of your class has crossed my path this year--some merely as names, but most as friends. I've had so much fun watching your lights shine, encouraging me by your examples to live my own life to the fullest now.
I love how every time I saw you in the hall or school lobby you had a smile for me, the fun way you'd say "Maria" with a Spanish flair, how your kindness let me know that I had a special friend nearby if ever needed. You have a wonderful way of making others feel comfortable, loved and special. We never did make it out for ice cream this year, but I have no doubt our paths will cross again, and then I owe you a hot fudge sundae or two.
Thank you Katie for making a difference in my life. Congratulation on your graduation!
Hugs, best wishes and so much love,
Maria
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