Clog #2 - General Silliness

What a weird week.

The new camp catchphrase (which is overtaking “That’s because I’M KATNISS!” by about a mile) is: “CAN’T CHANGE THAT!” The tone is sarcastic (and typically loud). It can be used in any circumstance, but it’s the most effective in situations that actually involve something that cannot be changed.

Sometimes we follow it up with a fist-bump that transitions into a shrug and a look of despondence.

We think we’re FREAKING HILARIOUS.

We’re also freaking injured – incidences from this week include: 2^nd degree burns from hot water, various shoulder/hip/knee maladies and rug burns from a variety of dodgeball called “Protect the President”, blisters (I’m glad that we live in a country and century that allows women to dig postholes), sunburns, broken fingernails, scrapes, and sore feet.

And we’re also all in camp love… which is to say that working with staff members of the opposite sex can be a major distraction… which is to say that no, I don’t actually think I’d date any of them (well, not at the immediate moment…), but I consider working at Christian camp a “window shopping for qualities in a boyfriend” kind of opportunity… and then I remember that a relationship is a sacrifice and not a shopping spree.

I don’t understand that yet. I am not mature enough to even sort of consider whether or not I’d be willing to consider someone else’s life more valuable than mine.

So, I focused more on boys than on grace. Well… I have this weird thing inside of me that sort of rebels against finding security in something that 1. I can’t even pretend to have earned and 2. Doesn’t get me some sort of attention.

At camp, I’m more of an actress and less of a servant.

Hypocrite.

And (since I view others the same way in the same way that I view myself) I go to prayer meetings with a bunch of hypocrites. All the passionate singing, the stiff praying – I’m spitting out sawdust.  

We sit around in circles… singing to Someone and talking to Someone… and it seems so very silly…

Because it is.

The notion that I’m allowed to speak (to ask for things) and to sing (off key) without being struck is quite silly, unless God can be seen as sort of silly (or at least impractical) Himself in his love for me.