I just spent a wonderful weekend up at OPC for the LIT reunion. It was a refreshing, recharging, and life giving experience. It was also a tough weekend. I came to a few alarming realizations and found myself convicted by stories of lost sheep, lost coins, and lost sons. I ended up staying up well past everyone else and journaling in the silence of the dining hall about my own journey of being lost and found. It felt so good to get so much off my chest!
The father takes joy in those who turn back to him.
Had it not been for the fact I woke up with swollen glands this morning, I would have gotten up early to watch the sunrise on Lake Clearwater and write some more in the silence. I appreciated the quiet serenity up there more than I ever have before. It brought calm and inspiration as I wrote and wrote and wrote.
I am looking forward to what I'm turning into.
1 comment:
The sad joy is that camp is so full of those stories. Years afterwards I am still finding myself part of the celebrations when one comes home.
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