Riverwalk

I spent some time at Southwest Bible Camp this summer, and had a number of adventures, including the one below.

The beginning of the journey was so dark that the staffers around me were mere outlines and shadows. After counting everyone present, we plunged into the knee-deep river and began to follow it downstream, guided by a couple flashlights and faint variations of brown and gray in the darkness. Gradually the light increased and I was able to see the water eddying over rocks, the branches laced on either side and sometimes reaching into our pathway, and the flood line painted a few days before, exactly at eye-level. Catches of song floated through the air, overflowing from full hearts. "On the Jericho Road, there's room for just two..."

We paused to observe bear footprints in the mud, now two or three days old. The boys had seen them when they were fresh and wanted to show them to us. Suddenly someone called, "Look behind you!"

We turned to see the sky transformed by a brilliant sunrise, its color reflected in the rippling water. Morning has broken like the first morning; blackbird has spoken like the first bird. Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning! Praise for them springing fresh from the Word.

I stumbled and scraped my knees on the rocks; my walking buddy, Raquel, pulled me up again. With our arms around each other, we were a four-legged creature, much more nimble at navigating the unexpected rocks and hollows that were often invisible under the muddy surface. River mud and weeds pulled at my feet as I crossed a shoulder-deep pool, but the rope in my hand was firm, anchored at either end by one of my new brothers. Eventually we made our way back to camp, where we cleaned up, enjoyed breakfast, and began our work for the day. I found a treasure on each knee: a large bruise, a badge of honor.

The Last Day

I stood in front of my children, all seventeen of them. Their parents sat behind them, but I wasn't talking to the parents at the moment. "Just one thing: You have to say goodbye before you leave!"

Instantly, "GOODBYE!" they all chorused snarkily, and giggled. So did the parents. I put my hands on my hips.

"Not now!" I tried to be grumpy. "And you have to give me a hug before you go, too."

It was too much for them. Suddenly I found myself in the middle of a squish of little bodies, wrapping their arms around me and around each other in an overflow of love. It didn't register until hours later that that precious sandwich, with me as the fixin's, was the beginning of the end of our time together.

One of my darlins...