Monday, February 21, 2011

What a weekend

So, I just spent the weekend with eighty 13/14 year old girls. And, I lived to tell about it!

God is amazing! There is no other way to say it. These girls, some my girls (either my child or in my class) are just amazing. We arrive there late at night on Friday, about 10pm. The other chaperons and I are exhausted. The girls are tired. We get into our cabins and get ready for bed (after the introductions and welcome by the amazing Pines staff). There's two chaperons and 20 girls to a cabin. One would think that they would be so exhausted that they'd go right to sleep. One word be wrong. Oh so very wrong. lol The lights finally went out around 20 after twelve in the morning and by twelve thirty all were asleep.

I'm not the best sleeper, my loving husband will tell you this. I get a few hours a night. I wake up constantly to go to the bathroom. And, mind you it's not a quick in and out type thing. The business I have to attend to is a relatively quick memo, not a long report. However, when I am done with the memo, I go to wash my hands. This is where my OCD kicks in. I wash my hands. Dry them off, and on the way out of the bathroom, realize I forgot a line in the memo and write it. Then wash my hands again. This process happens about three times. Then, if I'm washing my hands (always with soap) and my fingers hit the back of the sink under the faucet, I have to wash them again. At times, this routine can be very frustrating. This weekend, I woke up at two to write the memo. They have automatic paper towel dispensers that make me feel like a Jedi. However, at two in the morning, no amount of waving your hand in front of the sensor works b/c it's almost completely dark. Luckily, I found some paper towels on the sink. Then, Saturday night, I got wise and took the flashlight with me and shone it on the dispenser and Jedied the dispenser once more :D I washed my hands about a thousand times this weekend. What made the ocd worse is that it was well water. Why was this a problem? B/c it feels like the soap is never off your hands! lol

My favorite part of the weekend (there are so many! Confession, adoration, the Eucharist) was this hill. For those of you on the weekend who are reading this, you probably thing I am now certifiably insane. I complained the ENTIRE weekend about this hill and now I'm telling you it's my favorite part. My Carol will tell you how much I hate walking with God. It's HARD! My idea of roughing it/camping is a hotel with warm towels, heated pool, and room service. Walking with God is not like that. It's beautiful, but hard. Much like labor. It hurts like crazy but then joy follows. But, I digress. There was this hill. It was steep. It felt like I had to walk that hill every five minutes (not actually, but in Gina time that's what it felt like). Halfway up the hill (mind you it was steep but not a big hill) my knee would start to really hurt. And, as I walked the hill with the chaperons I would say things like "my butt better be smaller by the time I leave here!" or "every time I go up this hill I better be losing a dress size!" I also told the girls I only run when being chased. And, when lagging behind, I said "I only have to be the second slowest, not the slowest." At one point up the hill late Saturday afternoon, I turned my backside towards a friend of mine and asked her if it was getting any smaller. No such luck. lol The point here is not that I complained. Which I did. In spades. But that I did it. I hated this hill. I hated it with all that I have in me, yet I walked it. I needed to climb it to get where I needed to go. That's like walking with God. Sure, it's hard, but as I've said before, the company is awesome. He get's me where I'm suppose to go.

Saturday night was rough and I texted my Patti goodnight (as she was on the trip as well but in a different cabin). In saying our goodnights,I shared with her some things and she told me to talk to Mary about it. That Mary would take care of me. That night, I poured my heart out to Mary. I silently cried to her and I fell asleep talking to her. Although I still got up once to go to the bathroom, it was the best sleep that I had had in weeks. Mary covered me with her love and held me in her Mantle.

God showed me a lot about myself this weekend. Not that I'm a complainer. I already knew that. But, he showed me true friendship and pure love. He showed me His grace and His mercy. He showed me beauty. In no short supply, He showed me Himself. He is constantly reaching out to me. I just have to take His hand. God is good all the time.

Until next time,
I wish you many steep hills with God. They are amazing. Feel free to complain.


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