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The basic outline of my week is easy.

What: Youth Camp, 2006
Where: Bethany Bible Camp (Cass Lake, MN)
When: July 9-12
Speaker: Val Yoder
Topic: Being a 3D "display case" for Jesus.

  But how to fill in the rest. . .that is the hard part. How do I write in a way that portrays the spirit of camp? The deep and meaningful sessions that were shared. . . connecting in small group discussions . . the way God spoke to me. . . The relaxing, refreshing time of sharing conversations and memories and laughter with so many of my dear friends. . .
   There were - of course - the silly moments. Ralph's story, for instance, that inside every pine cone lives a little person, whom you can let out, if you're careful enough in taking the pine cone apart. Or the ride up, where Kat and Becky gave every object in the vehicl it's own personal name.  Or swinging in the dark, and then going out on the softball field to look at the stars (on the night that curfew was extended of course). :-)
   Then too, there were reminiscent moments, like playing Yard Dutch Blitz - which I hadn't played since my first year of camp - and of course, the 14 year old's (who seem to be getting younger every year) but who are so much fun, too!! There were meaningful moments, like intercessory prayer in our small group for people whom we had burdens for, or the numerous points brought out in morning sessions that seemed like they were meant just for me.
  There were those special God moments that I don't know if I can even describe. . . like after Tuesday night's session on how much God cares about us, no matter what we're going through. He laughs with us in our joys, and in our pain, He is right there crying with us too. Somehow the perspective got to me in a way I'd never thought about before...even though Jesus does have a plan worked out, and knows what is best, He doesn't just sigh when I'm worried or hurting and tell me to just stop pestering Him,  because He has it all under control and it will work out fine. He didn't tell Mary and Martha to go away and not question Him -- He wept with them, even knowing the joyful outcome!  Some of us girls went off to a quiet place and prayed together afterwards, about "stuff" that I've been weary and discouraged over. The feeling of God's touch and His love was so incredible when we got done praying, that -- even though the situation hadn't changed -- I felt so completely renewed and energized and confident about it. . . I was amazed at the difference that such a short time could make in my heart and in my perspectives.  Where before I'd been crying, I almost felt giddy and walked around the rest of the night with this big dopey smile on my face (even when mosquitos were eating me alive during campfire, and we sang songs nobody knew and I couldn't hear a word that anyone said during sharing time). God was just so near!  
   There was volleyball, there were early morning canoe trips, late night discussions, music and  -- oh, let's not forget -- pictures.  And I couldn't help but think - as I do every year - that even though legend has it they once considered not having Youth Camp, they kept it going because young people's lives were touched. . . and I, for one, am so very glad that they did.

 Summertime brings about a most pleasant dimension to shopping. . . and two of the most dreaded words in my brothers vocabulary: Garage Sale.
   I don't have the mentality that I have to buy something every time I stop, but I always stop, just in case. It's like my car just automatically turns and follows the little cardboard signs when I'm driving through town on a weekend. There were the ice skates that were only worn once, that I found for $10. There was the .75 purse that I bought as a back up for when the snap on my current purse breaks. ( Which it just did two days ago. Now what if I hadn't been so well prepared?) But I think part of it is the uncertainty and variety that you find in garage sales which makes it such an adventure.
  One of the first ones I stopped at this year was absolutely hilarious. I should have had my first clue when I couldn't actually see a garage, just an oversized man sitting on his front porch, which was stuffed full of junk.  I got out hesitantly, wondering if this was the sale, and if it was too late to turn around and run.  "It's in the back." He announced loudly. "The back" wasn't in much better shape than the front. I took a quick peek in the dingy garage before I was greeted by the woman of the house. In the time it took me to turn around and walk back down the driveway to my car, I had already heard a running commentary on her back problems, her dog, and the way it mothered the baby kittens. 
   I went to the Catholic Rummage Sale after work one day, and got there a little before they were going to close. I looked around awhile and didn't find a whole lot that caught my eye, when one of the old ladies hurried over and pointed me toward a stack of paper bags. "Everything you can fit in a bag, for $2!" She announced. Now this puts a whole new twist on things. I continued browsing, and wondered momentarily if I should just take my .25 sweater and go, but, It's such a good deal! There had to be something there. I did manage to fill the bag and make it worth the $2. . . things took a turn for the better when I found two pairs of nice shoes in my size.
   Then of course, there are the deliberate garage saling days, where we reserve a morning, fill the car up with girls, and take along a paper to mark the ones that look good. We never know quite where these ventures will take us. Once, last year,  we ended up at an Amish auction. Another day was so cold and rainy we did most of our shopping in the Dollar Stores around town. 
   There are sales we automatically pass by. Like the "Man Garage Sales." These are recognized by piles of unidentifiable automotive stuff/machinary/tools just dumped in the yard, and some guy sitting in a lawn chair ready to make up a price off the top of his head when you pick up something.  No thanks.
   A couple months ago, when I was garage saling with Twila, Jenny, and Missy, I found two large books -- old ones -- titled "The Scribner Radio Music Library." I opened one of them up and found that they were full of pages and pages of wonderful, old fashioned classical music. Now there are a few things that I have a definite weakness for: Old pianos, and old sheet music.
   The old pianos I have to pass by, and usually just stop, patting it sadly saying, "Oh, look. . . it just needs somebody to love it."
   "I feel sorry for your future husband." Jenny said one day. "If you have any extra room in your house I can just imagine you hauling home every old piano you come across."  I liked the thought. Wouldn't it be marvelous to be able to give them a home? For now, though (and forever, more than likely) this is not possible.  
  The sheet music, however, is more attainable. These particular books are in excellent condition, and have slighly yellowed pages with an authentic musty smell. They're part of a collection of nine volumes, which ". . .are devoted entirely to compositions which are heard constantly over the great broadcasting chains. . ."  (At least back in1946, anyway.)  My project right now is playing every song directly through each of the books. Naturally it doesn't exactly sound the greatest every time, but it's been delightful to find pieces I recognize from old music tapes, and also good sight-reading practice. And only $1 a piece! I can't help but think it would be awesome to find the rest of the set somewhere.
  For awhile, we thought that the nicest looking signs automatically led you to the nicest sales. Not exactly. "HUGE GARAGE SALE!!!" a large wooden sign with nice painted letters declared. When we got there, neither the sale nor the garage were as big as we were led to believe, and  we ended up at the house of some. . . well, interesting people that most of us in the vehicle try to avoid. After a little discussion we decided to risk it, and escaped unscathed (although Missy avoided use of her last name).  At least Amber found a lighthouse candle topper for her sister-in-law, so it wasn't an entirely wasted effort. 
    As for Jonny, he and I actually stopped at one together the other day.  I did it for him. Really.
   "Look! Jonny, a garage sale!"
   "NO."
   "Hey! Is that golf clubs....?"  He actually turns his head and looks at the stuff strewn across some persons yard. I watch him, holding my breath. Is that a flicker of interest on his face? 
   "Maybe." He noncholantly  turns back toward the road. Rats.
   I slow down even more. "Well, maybe I should stop..."
   "Ummmmm....Let's Not....."
   "Okay! You can go look at them!"
   "I don't want to spend much money on golf clubs."
   "Exactly! That's why you look at garage sales." Tah-dah! 
    He did end up buying some of the golf clubs. (I think I might get him hooked, yet.)  I found a "Chicken Soup for the Nascar Soul" book for only 10 cents. I despise Nascar, but that's not the point. It was like BRAND NEW! I can always find someone to give it to. 
 
    I'm pretty sure there are still good deals to be found this summer, so I'll keep looking. Hey! I haven't even been to the Flea Market yet. . .
   
  

 Not without design does God write the music of our lives. Be it ours to learn the tune, and not be dismayed at the "rests".  They are not to be slurred over, not to be omitted, not to destroy the melody, not to change the keynote.  If we look up, God Himself will beat the time for us. With the eye on Him, we shall strike the next note full and clear.
   If we sadly say to ourselves, "There is no music in a 'rest,'" let us not forget "there is making of music in it." The making of music is often a slow and painful process in this life.  How patiently God works to teach us! How long He waits for us to learn the lesson.  
                       ~Ruskin

Very true.......(*sigh*).......... I love the musicians perspective in this quote.  

  I began writing this on June 10. . . before I knew that Becky also was going to write a  lovely, sappy, reminiscent post. Must be something in the air!

   I saw fireflies tonight. Right on time.  I couldn't help but smile. Fireflies, of course, always remind me of VBS. The Bible School program, likewise, reminds me of fireflies, and either thought unfailingly reminds me of my lifetime friend - and cousin - Becky. It all goes hand in hand, really.  The last night of the program was always a night of excitement and joy and friends. Of course we did the same thing every year. Ate snacks.  Played a little prisoners base, perhaps,  and then went out to walk around as dusk settled in, and the fireflies came out -- often the first ones we saw all year.  We'd run out into the yard together to catch a few in a paper cup. It was all part of the tradition. Somewhere in there we'd probably dance down the church ramp, in our own specially invented rythm. I imagine to anyone else it looked like two little girls holding hands and thumping rather ungracefully, down and back up, and down again. To us, it felt like flying. 
   An email forward once said that friends are sent into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. I delete forwards constantly, often without reading them, and this particular forward was full of your typical sappy send-it-on-to-be-blessed junk, but for some reason, that thought about friendships stuck. 
  I've met people and became friends with them, only to end up hurt or angry, and wondering, "Why did that happen?" Later on, I realize that I met them for a reason. Usually it was a lesson that I needed to learn, or I realize that they were there to meet a specific need I had at that time. Then too there are those people with whom I've shared memories and laughs, even new experiences and good conversations. Sometimes it seems like maybe these casual aquaintances will be around forever, but then I realize that they were only there for a season of growing together and impacting each others lives before going separate ways.
   When I stop to think about how many deep friendships I have, with guys and girls, I am overwhelmed. God has seen fit to give me so many that are dear and precious to me, and I've heard it said that even if you have one or two friends like this you are blessed.  I think sometimes even if people don't see each other throughout their whole lives, they can still be friends for a lifetime.  It's the spirit of the friendship that stays alive, without hurt feelings or bitterness. The ones you trust. The ones you love. The kind where, when I start to worry that I said or did something dumb, I suddenly realize that if we've been friends this long (even with all the dumb stuff I've said and done in the past) it's not going to end. These are the ones that I wish I could be in contact with for my whole life, even though I know realistically I probably won't be with all of them. They aren't perfect, and aren't expected to be. True friendship has grace, forgiveness, and acceptance no matter what...and remains despite obstacles. It's the way I'm still friends with people like Becky, or Julia and Amy, even though there were years where we never saw each other except for quick, chance meetings in a store or in the library. But, "Friends Forever!" we'd vowed as little girls, and seeing the way God has indeed kept us together, I'm convinced it's true.
  Okay, Laura, what's the point? You may be wondering as you scroll down, bored, skimming my ramblings.
  I'm not really sure myself! :-) All I know is, I want to say thank-you to my friends. . .The ones who won't give up on me. The ones who have given me so much, taught me so much, and blessed me with so many memories. Some of them are people I've grown up with, others I can vividly remember meeting -- yet it seems like we've known each other forever. I'd like to take the time to write a paragraph or a whole blog about each of them, but I guess for now I won't. :-) I hope you know who you are.  If we've prayed together, or cried together, that's you. If we've never run out of things to talk about, that's you. If we've gone for a midnight walk, or stayed up half the night sharing advice and questions, it's you. If we've quarreled or disagreed but ended up better friends in the end, it's you. If we've had a secret fort under the pine trees, or made a gigantic pan of homeade macaroni and cheese. . . it's you too. Thank you for being you, and thank you for putting up with me this long! No matter what, never forget that I want to be your friend for a lifetime.
  At a point when Becky and I were still busy dreaming about learning to drive so that we could go shopping together, our friendship reached a changing point due to circumstances and situations beyond our control and I would cry because I was afraid it wouldn't last. I should have known that friendships like that are "lifetime" friendships, and would remain through the years. And here we are -after innumerable changes in family, church, friends, and ourselves - still growing closer, still discussing lessons learned, funny stories, latest theories, and sharing hopes and dreams that seem as ellusive and hard to grasp as the fireflies we once chased. 
   When we were little (and always running around church plotting our next get-together) her mom and my Aunt Connie would smile fondly and tell us we looked just like them, when they were best friends as little girls. Recently we had a tea party for Connie's birthday, and Gwen gave her a figurine titled "Friends Forever".   I looked at Becky. "Will we be friends forever when I'm 50?"
    "Of course!" She replied, smiling.  And she was right. If a friendship can last this long, and survive so much, it must be for a lifetime. I didn't know how to express everything that I've said here then, so I just smiled back. "We have to be friends forever." I said, quoting a magnet I saw once. "You know too much. "
(Now if I can just get her to stop hinting at private jokes on the internet. . . . ) ;-)

 "Our Bible School is over, and we are going home. . . " as the old song states it.  We've had a fun, full week of Summer Bible School in the mornings. Kat and I taught 3rd and 4th grade together. We had so much fun teaching together,  we hope to do it again next year! (Thank you Kat, for always making the copies, writing out verses, un-clogging the paint bottles, and the hundred other little things you've done.) 
  In attendance for the first two days was three, and then four adorable little girls. This particular grade has been noted for being all girls. I'd taught Kindergarten for the past two years, and decided to try and older grade. (I never felt like so much of a failure as the time  I was teaching a lesson on forgiveness and two of my kindergartners immediatly began fighting and crying....about something that had happened yesterday, no less.)  
    The first day I was taken aback by all the questions. . . shot at me so fast I could barely take time to stop and think of proper answers. The lesson of the day was loyalty, and we were studying Ruth.

   "What about Mary and Joseph. Were they loyal?"  
   "When do we get to hear a story about Adam and Eve?"
   "What does 'eternal' mean?"
   "Will people get married and have kids in heaven? WHY NOT?"
   "How old are you?" *gasp*.......eyes as big as saucers.......awed whispers, "Twenty!" 
I was trying to tell them that loyalty meant sticking with your friends and family no matter what. Then I got into the middle of Ruth's story. "Ruth left her home, her family, and her friends and went with Naomi." I said. Maryssa was horrified. "But...She wasn't being loyal if she left them!!" (It took me a little bit to convince them that Naomi's need had been greater, so Ruth chose loyalty to her over everyone else.)
  The girls loved Ruth's story so much, they immediatly began planning for a play -- almost leaving Kat and I behind in their outpouring of ideas. I was left trying to make every part seem important, in a skit where all four girls wanted to play Ruth. 
  On Wednesday, we were all set and excited for the "Esther" lesson. I had made little sparkling tiaras, so the girls could all be princesses for a day.We had a shawl, gloves, beads, and a feathery boa so that they could dress up.
   Then the unthinkable happened. . . . a boy showed up. I frantically chopped out a gold crown from yellow construction paper. The girls' first response to having a boy (after the first look of disgust)  was  resigned practicality. At least one of them wouldn't have to dress up like a guy and play Boaz.  
   The boy, however, only came on that one day.  The girls were a little worried, since we'd already written out our skit.  "What about Boaz?!" They wailed, each one volunteering another for the part. 
  "We'll make one!" I decided. "We can use a broom." They liked this idea a lot, and Kat and I put our creativity together and came up with a rather...amazing...Boaz. They took turns holding him up and walking him around, and I said his lines offstage in the deepest most manly voice I could muster.  I think that they would have practiced their skit all day, they loved it so much...each one  thriving in the special part that they had chosen. Breanne -- the natural leader - used dramatic hand gestures as she said her "Naomi" lines.  Allyssia played a double part as Orpah (they kept saying "Oprah") and a town lady. Deedra read the "Narrator" lines, and was pleased to be able to dress up too. Maryssa gleaned imaginary grain, looked deeply into the eyes of our "Boaz" and gave him an unrehearsed hug as she fell madly in love with him.
    When the last song had been song, the last piece of cake served, one more round of prisoners base played, and the last map and poster taken off the wall, Bible school was over again for another year. Teachers sigh in relief that the stressful times are over, and smile in remembrance of those special times. . . the times that make it all worth it. Like today when we were talking about how Jesus died on the cross for us, so that we can go to heaven and live with Him if He's in our hearts. 
   "Then we should pray and ask Him into our hearts!" Breanne announced.
   So she did. 

Click here for pictures. You have to at least stop and check out our Boaz. :-)

To try and just write about the highlights of our trip to Toronto is almost impossible. Since every day was packed full of new experiences and adventures, it seems like every stop and every occassion was a highlight. I shall however, do my best to portray even a glimpse of what we did...and this is just scratching the surface.
    On our way to Toronto we performed in Madison at the State Capital building. I'd never been inside the Capital before, so that in itself was a treat. Then to be able to play piano there and hear the choir's voices soaring and echoing like angels...it was incredible! My favorite song there was The Awakening:  "Let music never die in me! Forever let my spirit sing! Let all our voices join as one and praise the Giver of the song. . . Awake! Awake! Let music live!" 
  We spent a whole day at Paramount Theme Park, Canada's Wonderland. I accompanied that Vocal Jazz group, which was a challenge for me, since I just got the music for it last Thursday night (two days before we left), and jazz isn't exactly what comes naturally to me. I did go on one ride, but mostly spent the day browsing with a few other ladies who weren't into roller coasters. It was nice to be able to get to know them a bit more.  
  We went one evening to the CN Tower, which is the highest building in the world. We took the elevator going up at 15 MPH, and it took us 58 seconds to get to the top. It certainly was an amazing view of the city, though! 
   For any of you sports fans, I got to tour the Astrodome, or "Rogers Center" in Toronto. Even being as indifferent to sports as I am, it was certainly interesting to learn about the stadium...which is the only one in the world to have a fully retractable roof. We got to sit in the press box, tour the private box, watched them work on switching the field from football to baseball...the whole nine yards.
    We also were able to perform at Casa Loma, a gorgoues castle that was built only for two people. We got to explore the entire castle, from the highest tower to the lowest tunnel....and along with that had a time to perform the entire repetoire of music that we took on the tour. Once again, being able to perform in that kind of setting, with the grandest of grand pianos seemed unreal. Our last performance...and it ended on a very good note -- quite literally. A breathtaking version of an up-beat spiritual, "Ride on, King Jesus! Ride on! The Conquering King!...He's the King of Kings...and the Lord of Lords...He's the Prince of Peace...No man can a' hinder Thee." 
   We also enjoyed a Sunset Cruise on Lake Ontario, along the harbor. It was a beautiful clear evening, so we did indeed get to see the sunset. 
  Then too, there was a stop at Niagra Falls on our way home...and a "Maid of the Mist" boat ride right down to the base of the falls. It was wet, but entirely amazing.
   The final stop, and perhaps the climax of the trip, was a theater in Detroit to see the Broadway Musical, "Wicked" .  I've always loved musicals, and never been able to see one on stage before.  The story is a sort of prequal to the "Wizard of Oz". . . and a sort of behind the scenes look at the lives of the "Good witch" and the "bad witch", and how the choices and circumstances made them who they were. Needless to say, the songs and the story were awesome. 
  Intertwined in the middle of all these new and interesting experiences, there was the simple joys of talking, shopping, and laughing with students, eating poutine, exploring Toronto, and getting to know some of the chaperones...discovering that some of them are wonderful Christian ladies. It was such a blessing to share conversations with them. But as this post is extremely long already, I will not go into any further details. For pictures of my trip, visit the two pages of my Xanga photos here. Please take a look -- and enjoy!