Camp was postponed for 24 hours due to the Waldo Canyon Fire, and camp ended today at 2:30 because of the same fire. Camp is not in any immediate danger, and as far as I've heard, no one has died.
We evacuated in an orderly fashion, forming some sort of convoy from Woodland Park to Colorado Springs (two other convoys went to Littleton and Denver). The four eleven-year-old girls in my car held up really well - we entertained eachother with jokes, songs, and the camp version of a "Bangladesh" accent.
Life goes on.
Can't change that.
My parents and I are staying at some friends' house, far away from the danger. It feels entirely unreal. The drama queen in me is enjoying this adventure, the realist keeps muttering something about what if my house actually burns down...
I don't know. Life would continue on. There would be grace, and trouble, and I'd be more aware of the grace in the times of trouble.
Speaking of grace and trouble, our program team worked together well. Miraculously well. We probably like being around eachother too much. On Tuesday night, when we were supposed to be planning for a game, we shared about the last time we cried (mind you, this is a group that contains a 20-year-old man, two 19-year-old girls who had a major conflict the last time they saw eachother, and an 18-year-old from Texas named Brady).
We were definitely lacking in the organization and forethought departments, but we made it somewhat smoothly to the evacuation (codename: "birthday").
More to come on the fire when there's more to tell.
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