You went to chapel today, sang hymns to the band, heard Garret Kell preach.
I went to church, brought the neighbor boy, sang hymns to organ, communed. Not really sure I got the point of the sermon but I did have a good time meditating on the word.
Did you go to the beach after lunch?
I went to the pool after shopping, preparing dinner, reading a chapter.
I got to thinking of you, there.
Was it good weather like here?
Did you hear Lysa Terkheurst announce the topic of her weekly sessions?
I would go, if I were there.
Instead, I get her Proverbs 31 devotionals in my inbox, daily.
Did you go back to the chapel after an early dinner, for the evening hymn sing?
I popped meatballs and potatoes into the oven and sat down for an evening service of vespers in our living room with those who came. The Millers (she played Ravinia’s new violin and called it a blessing, for the price), and Michelle and Kat, and Dr Everest, and my own dad came out in time to read a portion from Acts that he had read in Greek to see where the emphases were, dramatizing Paul speaking to the Aereopagus. Twenty one we were at dinner, plus three kids who ate outside.
Did you go down to the TeePee after, for a snack and to see the old timers who would be there, making the food while the staff had their weekly meeting? Does Al Fisher still lead the volunteers as he used to?
I sit here in the dark, typing out my love for what I have received, the love, the joy experiences of the past, and the joys of the present too. Do I wish I were there with you? Well, of course. But we aren’t coming this year because Ravinia said it best. “Mom, I want to go to Guatemala to see Heydi. I would love to go to Camp and I want to see Winter in Stillwater, FL, but don’t you think going to Heydi is more important? I don’t need to do the other things, mom.”
We started to sponsor Heydi almost two years ago through Compassion International. She’s a month older than Ravinia, and we decided we would raise the money to send each month, even though I homeschool Ravinia and neither of us has a regular paying job. But we had followed Ann Voskamp’s blog a while; we had watched her preparations to go; and we had signed up. I had read Radical, too.
Heydi is special to us. She’s our connection to poverty, to a broken home, to the poor. We pray for her nightly, Ravinia and I. Sometimes, when tempted to spend money on something I ask myself or Ravinia, “Do you want the money for Heydi or do you want this thing?” Whenever I ask, it’s an easy answer for Ravinia.
Heydi asked us to pray for her mom to know Jesus. I do. I ache for her. For all the kids in a family Heydi called small but looks big to me. So many to support, a divorced mom.
Ravinia picked Heydi: her age, a sister across miles, languages, families. She picks her still, over vacation, new clothes, furnishings. (But Ravinia has to come along when mom and dad decide on a trip, of course.)
Train up a child in the way she should go.
Lord, that’s a tall order. Do I even go the way I should?
All I know is, I learn along with her, and sometimes she is quicker.
I can spell, write, even figure, but she can connect, think outside the box, do.
I hope, Lord, you are training us both up in the way we should go.
Thank you, Father, for Camp,
Thank you for home,
Thank you for hope in your unfailing love,
Thank you for Heydi, across the miles. Send her my love?