Camp helps kids and moms grow

Yesterday we picked up Brendan after a week at Pine Hills, an area Christian/Catholic camp. I surprised myself by tearing up when I saw him.  Although I missed him, I had worked hard to keep our week full, since my other boys missed their big brother so much.  We had cousin sleepovers, strawberry picking, and time at the lake.

But on quite a few occasions, I found myself awake in the middle of the night, for two-hour stretches at least. I used that time to pray for Brendan.  We never received a card from him (despite our instructions to send us at least a note that said "fun" or "not fun"); he said no one at the camp sent letters.

Nick got a hug before I did! These two were so happy to see each other!

I thought this week would have the power to touch Brendan's heart, and help him grow in his faith and as a young man in some profound ways. But that doesn't mean my heart didn't ache and wonder a bit as the week neared its end and we still had no news.

Our daughter Meghan has loved Pine Hills Girls Camp. This will be her third and final year as a camper there, and since Day One it has become the highlight of her year. She has grown in her faith, and the knowledge that God loves her as she is, and that she is so beautiful in His sight, has firmly been planted in her heart.

But the boys' camp is different than the girls' camp. We had heard tales about it being more like a boot camp, and about boys needing to run from Point A to Point B, but none of that deterred Brendan. Since Meghan returned from her first camp experience, he has been eagerly waiting for his turn to go. I believe he saw it as a rite of passage.

I was amazed to watch the boy who, not too long ago, would tear up when he had to sleep away from us, or if his Dad was away for work for a time, head into camp without a trace of nervousness.  All I saw on his face was pure excitement.

Even when we trudged to his cabin through hard rain and big puddles, he kept smiling. Even when we realized the boys use a different area of camp -- an area with very basic structures for cabins (versus the girls' more luxurious air-conditioned ones), he kept smiling. Even when Meghan saw where he would stay and expressed her fear that maybe this wasn't what we expected, and maybe Brendan wouldn't like camp -- he kept smiling. Even as I grabbed one more hug before walking away for a week, he kept smiling.

The following pictures (except the last one) are from our Father's Day picnic.
Nicholas LOVED this park, river, and bridge.

It was a strange moment for me as a mom -- realizing that I had to trust the people who run the camp knew what they were doing. I had to trust they knew something about boys I probably didn't.

As Meghan asked how I could be at peace with leaving him, while she was nervous for him, I had to tell her that while the rough accommodations wouldn't be right for her, they probably were just right for Brendan. While it was nice for the girls to be served when team members cart their bags to their cabins for them (this was the case Meghan's first year), it's also nice for boys to learn to be men by being responsible for getting their own bags to their cabins -- even through the rain and mud! While it was nice for Meghan to have air conditioning, Brendan would be OK with the fans in his cabin. And if the fact that we didn't bring him his own fan ended up causing him some discomfort, well, that could be OK too, because life is like that, and we have to learn to make the most of things even when they aren't perfect.

I trusted this camp had a  different goal than the girls' camp. This camp was for helping shape boys into young men. Not just any young men, but young men of faith. Soldiers for Christ.

I had to trust all of the positives of camp would work toward that end. And then I had to trust all of the challenges would work toward that end too.

I think Brendan was hungry for the opportunity to prove to himself that he is a young man, and that he can survive -- he can thrive -- even without his every need being anticipated.

I laughed to myself as I picked him up, because one weight on my heart I had to push aside as we left him was the fact that I neglected to pack any anti-itch cream for mosquito bites (something I've never forgotten for Meghan). His cabin was near a swampy area, and I realized there probably would be a lot of bugs.

Sure, enough, his legs are covered in mosquito bites, but he brushed it off as he explained how he got most of them playing whole-camp games of Capture the Flag. He learned to deal with it, patiently, while proving himself on the battlefield. How do you teach someone to deal patiently with minor (and especially not-so-minor) irritations? Perhaps they have to learn it by having their eyes on a higher goal -- for adults, hopefully that would be service to family or God's kingdom; for middle-school boys, perhaps that lessons begins best by giving them the opportunity to work for their team.

I have no doubt the lesson will serve him far beyond the Capture-the-Flag field of battle.

I never thought I would send my children to overnight camps. How could I ever trust an organization to ensure all of the people who would come in contact with my children would work for their welfare? In today's world, this is not a question to be taken lightly.

But then I heard Debbie Herbeck, the head of Pine Hills Girls Camp, speak. The Holy Spirit touched my heart. I knew I could trust Debbie. And I knew Meghan needed to go to Pine Hills.

I never looked back. I never questioned whether we could afford it. I simply signed her up. My confidence in that decision never wavered. (And that is very unlike me!) 

When Brendan wanted to go to camp, I knew we would have to let him go too. I wanted him to have the opportunity to grow in the same way Meghan did.

But there was a difference. I never heard the head of the boys' camp speak. The Holy Spirit never directed me regarding Brendan, at least not in that same way. But still, I chose to trust.

And I am so glad I did.

Today's Gospel reading (Mark 4:35-41), says "On that day, as evening drew on, Jesus said to His apostles, 'Let us cross to the other side."

The Magnificat expounded on this, saying, "His beckoning Let us cross woos us to live life as a risk."

Yes -- let us live life as a risk. Not risk merely for the sake of risk, but risk as being willing to step out in faith to the places God calls us.

This could mean sending your child to a Catholic high school. It could mean changing your career course. It could mean being open to life. It could mean following a dream and hoping it can lead to something bigger.

Brendan, on the right, still wearing a smile a week later.

Or it could be as simple as sending your son to camp. For the son, it could be as simple as going.

In some way, right now, God is calling each of us to put out into the deep (Luke 5:4).

I hope we can all say "Yes" with the same confidence Brendan had as he left for camp last week. And as we walk down the path of that Yes, I hope we also can have his faith, and confidence. No matter what deterrents come along to entice us to do otherwise, I hope we can be like Brendan and keep smiling.

From Luke 5: 4-6: " He said to Simon, “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” 5 And Simon answered, “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your word I will let down the nets.” 6 And when they had done this, they enclosed a great shoal of fish ...."