Lately I've been thinking a lot about joy. I worked at a camp this past week and the whole time I found my prayers mostly asking that the the campers and the staff there would be joyful and would be able to really rest in the knowledge that GOD is beautiful and His creation is beautiful.
I feel like sometimes (or a lot of times) us church-goers get so caught up in serving others and reading our Bibles and praying harder and going to church stuff and preaching to our non-Christinan friends about how they should be just like us and maintaining our nice Christian facades and etc...
And then we miss out on the point of it all.
It seems like (at least in my case) it's really easy to let that stuff become the focus. It's so easy to get caught up in the dailiness of church and then I miss out on the joy that comes from just being in communion with Christ. Because quite honestly, that kind of joy is really what being a Christian is about.
I feel like it's so easy to lose sight of what we really ought to be doing: loving GOD and loving others. And we do that because we are so focused on taking care of the ten million tasks we have to get done for our service projects and our mission trips and our youth conferences.
Anyways, I have more to say but my dad wants the internet so I'm signing off for now. I might post again later if I think about it, but I'm not really sure if I'll remember because I still haven't quite caught up on my sleep.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Why You Should Never Question My Pride...Or My Ability to Win Something
I love summer camp...sigh...a couple of months ago I wrote about a prank I played on a bunch of girls the last time I went to camp. If you missed it you can catch up here. Anyways, today as I was eating a quesadilla with super hot salsa I on it I remembered another thing that happened to me at a summer camp.
I was about to turn 17 and I was a counselor at a camp in Nebraska. It was the end of the week and I was tired and GRUMPY. (Random fact about me: I'm kind of the opposite of a gremlin, I turn into a monster if you DON'T feed me after midnight.) We were having this sort of challenge thing that was typical of the camp atmosphere and guess who got called up on stage...yup, the tired, grumpy gremlin.
So I clambered my way to the front and waited for them to announce what we had to do. I eyed up my competition: a couple of boys who thought they were tough, an older guy who really was tough, and one girl who looked like she was just as tired and grumpy as I was.
And then they anounced that we would be having a contest to see who could consume the most hot sauce.
Let me just say that prior to this I had never eaten anything that didn't have a "mild" label on it. And even that was known to bring tears to my eyes. So I didn't exactly feel...confident about this one.
And then the three males I was competing against made the biggest mistakes of their lives:
"At least one us dudes has got this. I mean, they're girls, they don't stand a chance."
"I know that I've got this one in the bag."
And then the last one looked at me and said, "You might as well quit now. You're not going to win anyways."
So of course I scrunched up my face all angry-like and picked up my first medicine cup of hot sauce and threw it back before the others could. Everyone watching got really quiet. Then they all cheered for me and made me feel good about myself. After everyone else stepped up and swallowed theirs one by one.
Three rounds later the other girl went and sat down.
Four rounds later they brought up even hotter hot sauce. I think it was called "The Bomb" or something sinister like that.
The guy who told me that I might as will quit left before even trying it. Not going to lie...I snickered at him as he walked past me.
There were three of us left. I was really scared on the inside but this was a matter of pride for me so I didn't let any of it show. Looking back it's really funny how someone belittling me over something stupid got that big of a rise out of me.
By the eighth round everyone was tired of watching us...so they declared that the last three of us had tied. I was super dissapointed that I didn't get the chance to beat everyone else...
And then I realized that my mouth, throat and stomach hurt really badly.
And then I ran out of the room and threw up all over the bathroom. Literally. All. Over.
I was about to turn 17 and I was a counselor at a camp in Nebraska. It was the end of the week and I was tired and GRUMPY. (Random fact about me: I'm kind of the opposite of a gremlin, I turn into a monster if you DON'T feed me after midnight.) We were having this sort of challenge thing that was typical of the camp atmosphere and guess who got called up on stage...yup, the tired, grumpy gremlin.
So I clambered my way to the front and waited for them to announce what we had to do. I eyed up my competition: a couple of boys who thought they were tough, an older guy who really was tough, and one girl who looked like she was just as tired and grumpy as I was.
And then they anounced that we would be having a contest to see who could consume the most hot sauce.
Let me just say that prior to this I had never eaten anything that didn't have a "mild" label on it. And even that was known to bring tears to my eyes. So I didn't exactly feel...confident about this one.
And then the three males I was competing against made the biggest mistakes of their lives:
"At least one us dudes has got this. I mean, they're girls, they don't stand a chance."
"I know that I've got this one in the bag."
And then the last one looked at me and said, "You might as well quit now. You're not going to win anyways."
So of course I scrunched up my face all angry-like and picked up my first medicine cup of hot sauce and threw it back before the others could. Everyone watching got really quiet. Then they all cheered for me and made me feel good about myself. After everyone else stepped up and swallowed theirs one by one.
Three rounds later the other girl went and sat down.
Four rounds later they brought up even hotter hot sauce. I think it was called "The Bomb" or something sinister like that.
The guy who told me that I might as will quit left before even trying it. Not going to lie...I snickered at him as he walked past me.
There were three of us left. I was really scared on the inside but this was a matter of pride for me so I didn't let any of it show. Looking back it's really funny how someone belittling me over something stupid got that big of a rise out of me.
By the eighth round everyone was tired of watching us...so they declared that the last three of us had tied. I was super dissapointed that I didn't get the chance to beat everyone else...
And then I realized that my mouth, throat and stomach hurt really badly.
And then I ran out of the room and threw up all over the bathroom. Literally. All. Over.
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