Showing posts with label Jewish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jewish. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

River Reflections

On the last night of summer camp each session, we all go to the camp's dock on Little River, high atop Lookout Mountain. In the moonlight, we can see the faint outline of the blob and it's staircase, the edge of the concrete dock, the bleachers where campers sit, the canoe shed.

Little River
We light the campfire, sing our evening songs to the strums of Shannon's guitar, watch with awe as counselors in canoes lit only by torches sing hymns as they round the riverbend, and listen intently as volunteers from each cabin read aloud their cabin's wish for the session, usually something along the lines of: "We wish we will keep old friends and new friends, make it home safely, and come back next year." The director, Mrs. Susan, gives an inspirational talk, encouraging us to love those we meet or press on through difficult times. Shannon plays Michael W. Smith's "Pray for Me" and we dismiss with hugs.

As I worked the entire summer (five sessions), I had the honor of attending five River Reflections. They provided the appropriate closure for the session and, in the case of our final session, appropriate closure for the summer. Therefore, this post presents closure for me personally: my own River Reflections.





I lived in two cabins over the course of the summer: my first cabin was for ages thirteen and fourteen, and my second housed girls eleven to thirteen. My co-counselors (fellow college students) and I often wondered aloud to each other: "Was I like that when I was their age?" We encountered strange things, like eleven year olds with cell phones and boyfriends, or thirteen year olds unable to deal with a simple disagreement. Thinking back to my middle school days, I realized so much has happened since then. If I compared my twenty-one year old self to my middle-school self, I am almost a completely different person. I mean, I'm still me. I'm still Alex, introverted people person who likes mint chocolate. But since then I have learned how to drive, I have moved away from home, started college, had actual jobs, my car's broken down, I've made friends my parents have never met, I've been out of the country, I've driven more than five hours by myself, I've done my own laundry, shopped for and cooked my own meals... I am closer to twenty-four than I am to fourteen.

Yet what was so incredibly cool is that camp breaks down the walls between my twenty-one year old self and these thirteen year old girls. Yes, my co-counselors and I are the authority figures. But we are also friends with these girls. No one is driving, no one is using their cell phones, no one is cooking their own meals, everyone sends their laundry out on laundry day and has to go searching for it the next day. We were more equalized than we would have been in real life.

This gave me the opportunity to speak into my campers' lives. I read Bible verses and prayed with them at bedtime, spoke positive words over them, and played games with them. In fact, when one of our girl's parents arrived to take her home this last session, she gave each counselor a letter she had written for us. She mentioned in the letter that it meant a lot to have someone like us to look up to. I grew to really love the girls each session. Sometimes I became apathetic towards building new friendships with them, since each group stays for two weeks or less and then a new group arrives, but God always sent encouragement my way to keep loving on them.



One of the most difficult aspects of camp by far happened because I loved these girls so much. Ironic, isn't it? Over the course of the summer, I dealt personally with young ladies who were involved in self-harm, bullying (both sides), who struggled with parents divorcing, eating disorders, who were developmentally delayed, and much more. Not only did circumstances like these require me to heavily depend on my co-counselors, head counselors, and the directors, but I was broken for these girls before God. I learned what it means to ache for someone and realize there is little to nothing you personally can do for them. I remember one night, after a particularly difficult day, getting into the shower after all the girls were in bed and just crying. There's so much I can't do, but I learned what I can do: pray and speak truth and love.

I truly learned to love on some precious girls.



Late one night, after tucking all the campers into bed, I was reading my Bible and reflecting on the day. I began contemplating on our one Jewish camper. Now, the camp itself is a Christian camp, but we accept girls of all religions who are of good character. We model Christianity through our actions and we teach it at morning watch and campfire, but many nonbelievers or other-believers choose our camp regardless.

I wondered that night whether I should encourage her sharing about her religion or ignore her differences. I knew I would respect her and her beliefs, but I wasn't sure how that would work with camp and the other campers. I debated whether or not to read only Old Testament passages at bedtime or to eliminate mention of  "Jesus" when I spoke around her.

And then I thought about her faith. I don't know how devout her family is, but Judaism as a whole is a very intriguing religion. Jews must have the most hope and faith of anyone I know. Case in point: they believe that the Messiah has still not come - and that God is still silent. He has not spoken to the prophets since Old Testament times, and they are still waiting patiently for their Redeemer. What awesome hope is that!

While I praise her hope, I am heartbroken that she is still waiting for the Messiah. "Hope deferred makes the heart sick," says Proverbs 13:12.

I chose to read from the Old Testament when I put her room to bed, but I didn't shy away from Jesus. He, of course, fulfills and proves the Old Testament. And I came to love her as person, not seeing her religion, but seeing her heart, seeing her likes and dislikes, loving her humor and smiling at her jokes. I pray her experience at camp planted a seed or maybe watered a growing one, but I know God is working in her.



This summer, I worked on the ropes course and co-taught a few knitting classes. And if you know me, I am not much for heights. At all. But I signed up for the ropes course because I love the thrill of the adventure. I'm tired of being boring.

We went through a week of intense training on the elements, sometimes going through each element (zip line, V-swing, climbing tower, swing by choice, etc) as many as ten or twelve times and then training on each element for two or three participants before sending ourselves. It was very intense. I faced a number of fears, learned boundaries and restrictions (my own and those of the course), and grew to trust Adam, Shannon, Ali, and others I worked with and on whom I depended.

We also learned something I had never heard before about ropes courses. I cannot tell you how many times I heard Adam express some or all of the following statement to girls on the elements:
It's okay to be afraid. Fear is your body's normal and natural reaction to heights. The ropes course is a challenge by choice. So, you make the choice to push yourself to try new things even when it's scary. Or, you can make the choice to be lowered. If you keep going, you might like it, but you can come down if you don't want to keep going.
Camp's ropes course philosophy can be summed up in two mantras: Challenge by Choice and the Full Value Contract. It's your choice to be challenged and how far you want to go - we can lower you at almost any point. The Full Value Contract exists to make sure each participant is treated with fairness: each person gets the same opportunity.

In life, we don't always get to choose our challenges. But we are given a choice in how we react to them. And often, we are afraid. Unlike some believers who assume that all fear is bad, I think a certain level of fear is good. I'm afraid of going outside in the woods in the dark by myself. That is a healthy and good fear because it keeps me safe. We know that if God has called us to something, he will be with us and will protect us, and we don't need to be afraid, but fear is normal. We can also learn to overcome fear, as I eventually slid off the zipline platform like it was nothing by the time I had been on the zipline a thousand times.

I gave a morning watch devotional one morning about how God's got us, mentioning both the big storm we had the night before and the ropes course. Just like the ropes on the course can hold up to 5,000 pounds and the cables are the same strength used to hold up airplanes, God is not going to let me go. I used Psalm 91 as my key passage. Verses 9-10 read: "If you make the Lord your refuge, if you make the Most High your shelter, no evil will conquer you; no plague will come near your home."

I'm learning how to be a more adventurous person. I love adventure. Secretly, I love thrill-seeking, but don't tell my mom, haha. However, there is no way I could pursue the adventures I'm after, like Thailand, college graduation, life after college, moving to a new place, a new teaching job, a Masters?, a family?, etc., if I did not believe wholeheartedly that God's got me. And he will not let me go.

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Leaving It Behind


Hebrews 12:1 says: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”

Happy May, everyone! I am officially finished with my sophomore year of college! I cannot believe how fast time flies.

If I could describe this year or even this past semester in one phrase, it would be “Coming to Terms.” I have spent my sophomore year coming to terms with my past, dealing with of crap, and learning to move on. I wish I could say I am now perfectly healed and whole, but that’s not entirely true. Yes, God has redeemed and ransomed me, and I am not who I was, but I still have a very long way to go. The cool part is that God has me where he wants me, and I’m sure of that now.

As part of this whole “coming to terms” thing, I shared a part of my testimony at the end of March with the ladies in my dorm. The entire experience was absolutely great - God had his hand in it the whole time. As part of the testimony night, everyone who shared painted, drew, or chalked key phrases from their testimonies on a piece of cardboard. Each lady’s cardboard testimony had a “before” side and an “after” side, describing her struggles on one side and her hope or change on the other.

After the evening, I put my cardboard testimony on the shelf above my desk where I could see it every time I walked in my room. The “after” side faced out, which was really encouraging. Yesterday, when I finished packing up and preparing to head home, I found myself unsure about what to do with my piece of cardboard. I knew I could fit it in my car, but I also knew that it would be hassle to squeeze it in somehow. And what am I going to do with a piece of painted cardboard?

I debated quickly whether to throw it away or to keep it, and the pack rat in me lost. But as I threw the rectangle cardboard testimony into the dirty and rusty garbage dumpster behind my dorm, I felt like I was leaving that pain and that sin behind. It was like a weight was being lifted. Suddenly, a portion of the guilt that I thought could never leave began to melt and crack a little.

So I left my sin in the dumpster. Eventually, a dump truck will come by and carry my cardboard testimony to a landfill miles away. It’s virtually gone forever. I promise I am still coming to terms. I promise I am still dealing with guilt, shame, and mistakes. I promise I will still struggle. But I know that I know that God has forgiven me. I don’t have to fight anymore. God is here.

Even before the word “Emmanuel” was used for Jesus to mean “God with us,” a name for God translated Jehovah Shammah was used. It means “The Lord is there.” Not only is this phrase the final words of the book of Ezekiel (48:35), but it is repeated multiple times in the Old Testament. It is used in reference to Jerusalem, as the Lord is living among his people in Israel.

I heard about Jehovah Shammah a while ago, but when I was coming to terms with feelings of loneliness, I began researching the name again. To learn that this name refers to the city of Jerusalem makes me want to cry with joy. See, when I shared my testimony in March, I quoted Isaiah 62:4 about God’s restoration of the city of Jerusalem. I mentioned it because I like to compare the broken and hurting woman to the broken and hurting city of Jerusalem during the times of captivity or warfare. Thus, just as God came for Jerusalem to heal her and rescue her, so God does the same for women (and men, too).

How beautiful is it to know that the same God who calls Jerusalem by a new name in Isaiah 62:4 because he is restoring her is the same God who then dwells in Jerusalem and calls himself Jehovah Shammah because he is there in that city with his bride. I believe that God is also calling himself Jehovah Shammah with us, his children. I left that sin behind in a landfill in some county in North Georgia, but God is here. Sometimes that’s all I know, and it is more than enough.

What I'm listening to...
"Million Pieces" - Newsboys
"Oh My Dear" - Tenth Avenue North

Monday, September 13, 2010

Going According to Plan

It took me longer than I thought to realize that life isn't about me. And still, I have moments where I get all confused and wonder why things are happening the way I want them to.
This reminds me of the Jews of the 1st century. They were anxiously awaiting a Messiah, a military leader to rescue them from Roman rule. They even celebrated Hanukkah in remembrance of not only the Menorah oil that lasted eight days, but also for what Judas Maccabeus had done in recapturing the temple (which was a military conquering).
This Military-ruler Messiah mindset is very prevalent to the Jewish people. We see this in John Chapter 10 at Hanukkah when Jesus is at the Temple. The Jewish people ask, "How long are you going to keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly." So Jesus replies, "I have already told you, and you don’t believe me." He goes on to talk about his "sheep" and his father's name and eternal life and the Jews are left standing there with their mouths open.
Can you imagine the shock this must have caused? Suddenly, the Jews found that the guy they thought was probably their Messiah likes to talk about sheep. Verse 31 even says that the people picked up stones to kill him. What had happened to the idea of a military Messiah?

Life isn't always going to work out. Life is rarely, if ever, going to work out the way you've planned. I'm such a planner, that this realization really hurt. But see, God has better plans for me than I planned myself. I need to make the effort to trust him and depend on him and seek him above all else.