Two Questions

During the Thursday night talent show, the young boy of ten impersonated Mr. Science, the jolly, German accented teacher who taught the kids lessons of ‘Zie Jesus’ with science experiments during the week of camp.  As Beethoven’s music blared over the sound system he ran up and wrote the name ‘Mr. Science’ on the white board. “Hi kids,” he said with a child’s impersonation of Mr. Science’s accent.  He did very well at this.  After a few more words of ‘yah!’ and ‘hi kids,’ he then called Mr. Science’s faithful assistant, Shven to the front.  I ran up to the front dressed in a white jump suit with a small plastic cup of water and set it on the table, awaiting my orders.

“Where did you get your nails done?” he asked in the same accent.

In the best German accent I could muster up, I began, “Ah two little girls.” I glanced out in the crowd to see the two little girls stand and raise their hands with hopeful anticipation to be acknowledged for their wonderful salon style nail painting. “Miss C- and Miss E- painted them for me.”

The young boy then picked up a bottle of orange Ajax dish soap. “Zie Jesus!” he said.

The fellow counselors and kids in the audience replied, “Zie Jesus!”

I then watched as he squeezed the bottle over the small cup of water for about three or four seconds, maybe longer.  It was enough that some of the orange soap settled on the bottom of the cup and slightly raised the level of water.  I anticipated his next words.

“Drink Shven.” He said.

   

I picked up the cup and wondered if I’d be able to stomach it. Would I vomit right then and there or take a trip to the ER for my stomach to be pumped? I did not think it would kill me but who knew?

So how did I end up like this: dressed in a white jump suit with painted nails contemplating the side effects of drinking liquid dish detergent? 

But perhaps I should ask the more important question: why was I wearing a white jump suit with painted nails about to drink a cup full of water and dish detergent?

Two questions but different answers. One answer will tell the story while the other defines the heart.

How? and Why?  

But to answer these two questions I will have to take you back to the beginning of June where my co-worker, Brittany, shared with me about Royal Family Kids Camp. “It is a camp for foster kids,” she explained. “All the counselors cheer for the kids when the bus comes.  They even roll a red carpet down for the kids to walk on when they get off the bus.”  She shared a little bit more about the camp and asked if I would be interested in being a counselor. I replied, “Sure” with a vague concept of the intensity of the week.  But little did I know the patience, humility and love that would be required of me.

She sent a text to the camp director and a few weeks later I sat in the weekend sessions of counselor training near the end of June.  Sometime during the training I suddenly felt my own inadequacy for being a counselor at this camp.  Perhaps you have felt your own inadequacy at something—a flutter of the heart, a flush of the face and a constant wondering if you will have what it takes. 

I have worked with children before, even at a camp.  Some people even make a claim that I am good with them.  Someone once even called me the Pied Piper of children. But as I sat in this training, I knew in my heart that this would be different.  I could not rely on my past experiences with children, my little wit or any of my wisdom.  Those are all good aspects but in truth I would need to rely on something or rather Someone far greater then I for this.  I needed God and his power, his wisdom, and his love to see me through.

And so a few weeks later, I found myself with a bunch of other counselors and staff riding a yellow school bus for an hour/hour and a half.  During our journey I gazed out the window at a town fair, farmhouses with pasture lands and gentle hills all the while wondering what I got myself into. Finally our bus turned onto a bumpy, dirt road that led to the camp.

We were finally here.  We unloaded our luggage and supplies and prepared for the campers' arrival the next day.

To be continued…