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How To Pack 28 Friends, 3 Camps & a Book Plan Into a 4-Week Summer
Didn’t the word “summer” used to equal a full three months? Back in the ‘80s we got out around the second week of June and didn’t return until after Labor Day. Twelve weeks of barefoot, late night, ice cream, swim lesson, little-bit-naughty, sun-screen, creek walk, watermelon-flavored Jolly Rancher stick bliss. I know some U.S. districts still follow such plans, but down here in Baja school’s only out for six weeks—and we thought that was bad. But on July 4 (God bless America) our oldest graduated from a public middle school and on August 1 he started orientation at a private high school. Sunny vacations go by ridiculously fast when you…
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How to Grow Up at a Christian Camp and Not Turn Out Weird
If you’ve ever experienced ropes courses, zip lines, campfires, s’mores, row boats and field games, you’ve probably been to summer camp. Throw in massive redwood trees, homemade donuts, train day and a pancake breakfast, and you’ve probably been to Mount Hermon. Located in the heart of the Northern California redwood forest and only seven miles from the beach, this camp I call home draws tens of thousands of campers annually. But I never arrived as a camper; I lived there. As in, twelve months of squirrels, trees and community. As in, everybody knows your name and you can’t get away with squat. As in, summer camp for ten weeks. Yearly. Every…
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Her Jewelry, My Truck
I’m sure she had a kind smile, but her jewelry is what caught my eye. Not because it sparkled more than her face, just that it was extensive. Maybe not for those of us who visited from middle-class SoCal, but for a missionary woman in Mexico? Extensive. Back in the ‘80s, every missionary lady who came to my little Baptist church resembled Plain Jane. Makeup rarely existed, unadulterated hair sat in perfect pins, and their outfits always looked… tired. My tomboyish wardrobe did not include more than a dress or two, but it seemed to me they could have at least worn something besides gunnysacks if they wanted to recruit…
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Burn ‘Em, Baby!
Hernando Cortes was the Spanish conqueror of Mexico. Okay, stop right there. If history doesn’t float your boat, you’ve found a friend. It was never my strong subject, and Mexico was never my dream destination. And then God, in all of His wisdom and humor, sent me a history teacher to marry and sent him a vision that took us out of the States and into Baja. As a result, I read about this Hernando guy in a whole different way…. In 1518 he convinced Diego Velazquez, governor of Cuba, to give him command of an expedition to this new land to establish a colony and capture its treasures. He…
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Cow Tongues, Colostomy Bags & The Donut Man
They’ve made me wonder, empathize, laugh and sigh. Cultural differences that aren’t right and aren’t wrong, just different. It was a common phrase we challenged every Ventana student over the years. Just because something is different than what we’re used to doesn’t mean it’s wrong. It might look strange to our American eyes, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t work. After living here for a decade I thought I’d seen almost every quirky cultural thing Mexico had to offer. Then I started looking for the unusual and taking pictures. You might think selling boots, eggs and honey on the same table is weird. Locals would call it convenient. Not…
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Vul-Ner-A-What?
The purpose of the 3×5 cards was two-fold: a few atta-boys and a few constructive criticisms per person. We were more than halfway through our nine months together; a perfect time to step back and re-evaluate. Ministries can be fantastic breeding grounds for misunderstandings and hurt feelings, so we strived to keep our communication strong. Our group of seven staff felt safe, but we swapped the rectangles full of words and braced ourselves for the inevitable. I naturally read the compliments first. The accolades boosted my confidence as a leader and confirmed feelings we previously exchanged in person: I liked them, they liked me… life was bueno. I flipped to…
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An Open Letter to My Kids – I Fired the Housekeeper
Dear Kiddos, It was your dad’s idea. He felt like I needed a helper because we started a ministry to college freshmen. For nine months at a time. In Mexico. You didn’t know this when you cuties were up thrice a night, attempting tricks on rusty bars, absorbing a second language, taking in avocados, trying to find a friend, and learning to walk, but those students in our ministry required hours and hours of our time. And so did you. In our younger years your dad repeatedly joked about moving to Mexico, always ending it with the promise of a housekeeper. Didn’t sound like much of a deal to me; I…
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My Vacuum Sucks
“I thrive in chaos!” my friend declared. I never felt it before, but all of a sudden I found myself wanting to be like her. The concept sounded cool and edgy, while my friend seemed like the ultimate juggler. Wonder Woman of the 21st Century. Multitasker extraordinaire. Her home sat in the middle of a large Mexican ministry; people came in and out all day. The door continuously flung open to a barking dog while she hand-dipped dark chocolate almonds with sea salt, helped her homeschooled kids with math, and produced whispy letters on her Cricut. Scrapbooks and handmade cards littered her table, and I sat as a spectator… sampling almonds,…
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Satan Isn’t Stupid
The young pastor was sharp, educated and relevant, so I was surprised when he offered the overused revelation: “God has a plan for your life….” The newbies were probably thinking, Good point—wonder what it is…. But we lifers yawned, Yeah, heard this before—checking out now…. We have been in church since before we could crawl and might feel as though we could deliver the same sermon in a state of slumber. We are sadly a tad cocky when it comes to the popular guys—Adam, Noah, Moses. A fig leaf, an ark and a staff no longer evoke the feelings of awe they once did. Actually, did they ever? But I…
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It’s a Spring Thing
I love joy. And couldn’t we all use a little more? Most of us can easily resemble poster children for joy when friends gather and Arnold Palmers are flowing. But at 5:30 a.m.? I am a looong way from those three little letters. At least the sun greets me earlier at this time of year. It’s a spring thing. I only know two or three people who absolutely ooze joy. They’re fun to be around. Positive outlooks and encouraging words grace their lips, and I find their attitudes contagious. I smile more and always leave feeling a tad taller in my shoes. Not that I need any more height in this country;…
