Church Camp Bubble

This Monday, July 1, I will be entering the church camp bubble where there will be few worries, no stress, and very little anxiety.  There is lots of good music, singing, preaching, devotionals, recreation, cold showers, and that lovely camp food (yes, I speak with some sarcasm here.) I have decided that heaven will be a lot like church camp–except we will all have mansions, a delicious feast  (which will not make us fat), and we will be able to see Jesus always.  

Every year, I get to feeling the need to go to my church camp bubble and this year I have needed it for several weeks.  I just need to get away from the cares of this world and the needs of others.  No, camp is not perfect.  The food, well, the Bogg Burrito has a reputation–if you know what I mean.  The beds have been around since the Civil War, and in order to get cell service you have to stand in the middle of the field, hold out your tongue and lift your right arm in the air while standing only on your left leg. All of this pales in comparison to the love, joy, and peace I get out of church camp.  At the end of the week we all leave full of, what our pastor’s wife has termed, “pumpedupedness”  

On Friday, the church camp bubble will officially “pop” as we all arrive home and face reality. We will still have bills to pay, laundry to wash, grass to mow, and sometimes more serious matters to fill our lives. It makes me long for heaven even more.  The older I get, the more I find myself understanding the saying, “Come Lord Jesus, come quickly we pray.”  

Themepark Therapy

The stress of being an adult gets to everyone eventually and sometimes you just have to take a break from it all and be a kid. Today I took my twelve year old daughter and her best friend to Magic Springs, a theme park in our town. My daughter is a scaredy cat and I have had to make her ride every ride she has ever ridden. I haven’t pushed the roller coasters because I thought at my age it probably wasn’t a good idea.

 

 

Somewhere in the middle of Big Bad John as I began to scream and laugh like a crazy woman, I realized that was exactly what I needed. Sometimes you just need permission to let loose and scream like a banshee. So with all the laughing and all the screaming I have done today, I feel euphoric. I have literally laughed and screamed myself sane. Themeparks are cheaper than therapy and a lot more fun.

Take a Virtual Ride of Big Bad John

The twist on this coaster was the plunge into darkness at the end.
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Take a Virtual Ride of the Arkansas Twister

The Arkansas Twister which used to be at Six Flags over Texas has a 92 foot drop and goes 50-60 miles per hour over many twists and turns.

Fairytales Will Never Be Reality

What makes fairytales so attractive? I am a cynical, practical girl, yet I love a good fairytale. I know that based on statistics almost one-half of all marriages eventually end in divorce. So why do we still buy into this undying love, meeting "the one", finding our soul mate, and falling in love business? Actually, I think that we are addicted to falling in love. I mean who doesn’t like that new feeling of being pursued and having somebody love you more than life itself. When we first fall in love we are willing to change how we dress, where we live, what we eat, our religion, etc. When we fall in love, we can move mountains, cross the ocean, and go to the moon and back; then we write a song about it.

 

 

I wonder if watching and reading all these fairytales are harming our psyches. Do they just help us escape from the nasty now and now or are they making us hope and wish for a different reality? We have allowed ourselves to become completely controlled by our feelings. The problem is that our emotions are fickle. One moment, I want ice cream and the next, I want to go to the beach, and then later I just want to go to sleep. Our wants, emotions, and feelings are causing us to lose grip with reality and screw up the lives we have.

 

 

So take a look in the mirror and embrace the zits, the gray hairs, the bulges and the stray facial hairs. Love the life you have and the one you are with. Realize that the grass still has to be mowed on the other side, and you can’t hire a Gardner. Our relationships are shaping our world, and by tossing them away so easily, we are teaching our children to not commit to anything that doesn’t feel good. The old adage, "if it feels good, do it" is just not working out for us. Sometimes you have to do it because it’s right, and the feelings will follow.

My Story

When writing the story of your life, they always say to start at the beginning.  The first crystalline memory that I have is at the age of twenty-three months.  I remember a warm, summer day under a tent in a grassy area with lots of trees.  There were chairs with people sitting in them all in a row, and my mom was crying.  Nobody wanted to hold me and I was passed from lap to lap.  I remember a lady named Andi Miller singing and then the memories end.  I cannot remember the casket that was there or the huge hole in the ground. My mom says that she had me potty trained before my brother died and that I completely digressed at that point.   

I was about five years old when I started having this memory disguised as a dream.  I kept having the same dream every night, and my mother had just had my other brother, Daren.  I now realize that I was probably worried that he was going to die as well.  When I told my mother the dream, she said, “that sounds like your brother’s funeral.” Since she had never told me about another brother, I was floored. She had a box of momentos from his birth and a picture of him in his casket.  She told me about John David Swisher, Jr., and how he had died the day he was born. She was holding him in the hospital and she commented to the nurse that he was a little blue.  The nurse whisked him out and she never saw him alive again.  Mom always blamed herself, thinking she must have done something that caused it although there was nothing she could have done to prevent it.  They said his lungs must have not been developed right.  

A few years ago, I bought a gravestone for my brother’s grave.  At the time of his death, it was all my parents could do to pay for the funeral and burial and then they got busy raising me and later my two brothers.  It always bothered my mother that they had not bought a marker.  So for Mother’s Day one year, I decided to buy a marker for his grave.  My mother still goes to visit the grave and remembers the baby she only held once. 

I have often wondered what my life would have been like if I’d had a brother just twenty-three months younger than me, but God is writing my life story, not me.  Sometimes I help mess it up, but he ultimately puts His signature on the pages.  We cannot change our past, we can only use it to help guide us in our future.  I have to say that God really is the best at writing my story, but it seems that sometimes I hear myself yelling, “Cut!”  I mean surely that was not what he intended.  I can’t believe that he wants to take this character out or put this character into my life story.  In the end, I always see where God was on the money.  So God, I give you back the reigns again–write my story, and make it sensational!

Just Mud!

So many times we humans do stupid things. Everyday I deal with people who are going through distresses, many times as a result of poor choices they have made. I often wonder as we go about our lives if God and the Angels are watching us and shaking their heads. "Don’t they know where this path is leading?" "I can’t believe they are doing that!" So many times we react to those around us in anger and meanness. We just don’t act very Christ-like. As I was reading Psalms 103, I came across verses 13 and 14

"As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him.  For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust."

I can just imagine God walking up on the angels as they are shaking their heads at our shenanigans and saying, "Now you must remember, they were just made with mud." It is so awesome to think that the God who created me has given me a little leeway, because He realizes He just used dirt to make me. He also wants to remind me that I can’t do anything in my own strength, because I am nothing but dust. Everything good that comes from my being is a direct result of Jesus living in me. There are times that the feelings of failures are more prevalent than others. Paul said he died daily, but I am afraid that I must put my flesh to death more often than that. The awesome thing about God is that His love never ceases and his mercies are new every morning. (Paraphrase of Lamentations 3:22-23.) Everyday I need a fresh dose of mercy and grace to wash away the past and help me face the future.