Skip to main content


This weeks word prompt was play. Fitting for my week.

"Bye Meredith." She responded by pushing me away.
She sat with a group of girls at the back of the bus.
Eagerly awaiting their arrival at summer camp.
I had to smile and laugh at her new phase of independence.
It was her first week away from us.
Her first week spending the night with someone other than her grandparents.
"How is she?" I asked the camp leader.
"She's doing great." was the quick reply.
And she did do great. 
A couple days passed and we visited the camp.
Summer camp is a mix of sweat, messy cabins, non stop activities, loud voices, and ongoing laughter, worship services, climbing hills, the din of the cafeteria, and most of all day and into the night play.
After two counselors had to leave I arrived back to help out.
Kids everywhere were playing.  Hard.
Small arms cradling bows and aiming arrows in archery class.
Splashing in the pool with balls during water games.
Little kids shooting out of water slides momentarily submerged in the wake of their splash.
Feet fast running bases.
Hands learning sign language.
Leaders and counselors working hard to keep up and play hard too.

Everywhere for a few hours every day kids played.
Like their own little dream world.
I enjoyed watching my oldest girl tell stories to her friends.
We walked back to the cabin in the late night stepping across shadowy grass and stumbling up the hilly stairs.
She laughed as her eyes rounded big to match the night's full moon.
She told everyone a horror story about killer clowns and I felt a smaller girl's hand thread through mine. I looked down and this little girl didn't say a word.  Her huge brown eyes were big and filled with quiet fear. She kept walking through the dark trees fast.
Meredith was in her element trying best to spark a shiver of fear up the spine of all the little girl's walking fast now carrying their ice cream and slushies from the camp shop.
Trying to speak to the smaller girls fears I dismissed their stories of killer clowns to no avail.
By this time most of the girls were convinced that camp shadows were scary.
One of them shut me up by saying, "You haven't faced reality! They're real!"
The older ones eyes crinkling with mischief. The younger ones legs practically running to get home.

Another time I piled a group of girls in my car to get them back to the cabin in the rain.
"Mom turn up the radio!" Her hands spun the dial fast trying to find some bass pumping rap song to impress her friends with for the 2 minute car drive back to the cabin.
I watched how Meredith participated and skipped off to keep up with her friends and enjoy living in a world custom catered to kids for a week.
Gone was the shy girl that held back in front of others her age.
I smiled to see it and had to laugh when the camp leader told me that Meredith had announced to her, "I don't miss my mom this week."
Inwardly I thought, I guess that's ok since we have been together non stop for nine years now.
Kids are simple.  Their souls are fed, grown, and built for play and through play.
It is their main job. Their first and foremost way to engage the world and learn from it.
This week it set the stage for learning about God as they huddled under a shade tree to escape the unrelenting sun and listen to their leader end each play- session with God's Word.
This week was exhausting, messy, loud, filled with Truth and most of all for them fun.
And it was fun, because they mostly just played....

Meredith living the life ;)

Baby boy exploring camp.


  1. Love the camp references. I never enjoyed camp as a child but sent mine every summer and enjoyed reminiscing those sweet days 💕

  2. She is cute as a button and she's got spunk! What a great story you shared with us this week. I never got to go to camp as a kid (or wanted to, honestly - super introvert) and there's a part of me that now wonders if I missed out on something special. - Marie (

  3. Sounds like such fun! Kids grow up fast, don't they? Enjoy the summer heat! (It's winter where I am, haha.)
    - Ruth (Visiting from FMF #71)

  4. Hi Somer,
    How cute is that that she announced she didn't miss her mom! Even though it may have sounded a little hurtful to your ears, she is gaining independence and I'm sure you can't help but be so proud of her! Camp is always a growth opportunity and memories that stay with you the rest of your life! xoxo Love to you!


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

31 Days of Free Writes #Wave

Four summers ago the first weekend in September marked one month.  One month lived out shaky and unsteady.  Just putting a few steps in front of the other and letting tears drip down faces or anger spill out at the sky.  "Why?"
I had watched my husband shake violently at the graveside of his twenty-six year old brother as he sat a few inches from the casket.
My usually stoic husband reached out for the casket as he passed by and I heard his voice crack as he called out his name.  One more time. I had never seen him stricken with grief.  That groan of emotion haunted me.   Those fifteen minutes spent under the funeral home's green awning the last minutes his family would ever be within arms length of this special brother.  A brother who had just slipped quietly out of this life beneath the green gold water of a river one steaming August day.  Bare chested and tan, jumping off the dock with friends.  Never to resurface again.
A lot of that week in August was just wakin…

Five Minute Fridays - "Last"

Last is such a final word, it’s a word that always makes us sit back and take note. We take note of the fact that something is about to draw to an end and we better enjoy the last drops, savor the last bites before its all gone. Like that last hot week of summer that we spend soaking up every last beam of Vitamin D. Or that last couple bites of a once a year Christmas dinner, slowly swallowed down. Or maybe the last night of a vacation where we try to take note of everything and know that we are returning to real world, real bills, real deadlines all seemingly too soon. Two weeks ago I experienced a last. For seven months I was given a gift. It was truly an unexpected gift. One I had never anticipated being given. For the past six years my sister Faith and I have lived in different cities for most of the time. We always mused over the idea that we should've lived together for at least one year of college. But from icy January 4th to steamy August 10th I had the gift…


Five Minute Fridays

Morning seems sacred to me.  Having nocturnal children kind of robs me of the mornings I like to enjoy in silence and quiet thought.
For years I would get up at least two hours before anyone so I could just be by myself and be quiet.
My parents are early morning people that like to eat full breakfasts and watch the sunrise on the porch. There's something exciting about watching the day open its' eye lids with the first glints of sun playing on the horizon edge.  Pale blues and periwinkles rouse us out of pitch black and many times morning rises in strength with extravagant colors.  It signals something new.  A new twenty four hours.  A new chance. Kind of like a new little slice of life.  We are mesmerized at first at the idea of new.  It's beautiful, holy, and hopeful.
Morning breaks the night.
I love that Cat Steven's hymn Morning has Broken.  I've always thought the words were so beautiful.
Especially the last phrase, "God&…