you're my distraction

Before I even heard his footsteps approach, I knew that he was going to come to me.  Not because he thought I wanted the attention, but because he was just that kind of guy.  He could see that I was upset and wanted to do something about it.  I tried to dry my tears as he sat down, but I knew that he could still tell that I had been crying.  "Hey," he said quietly, "Is something wrong?"  "I'm fine," I said, but my face told him otherwise.  "Are you sure?" He prodded, "You know that you can always talk to me."  That was his mistake.  I looked at him in the eye, then turned away.  "Not about this."  "Oh." He said. "I get it.  Do you want me to go get one of the girls?"  I shook my head. "It's not like that. I just can't tell you."  He looked a little hurt. "Really Gabby," he said, "I'm here for you."  "Fine," I finally agreed, "If you really want to know so badly I'll tell you." I paused. "I just don't feel like I'm doing my job well."  He gave a little chuckle and then smiled.  "Is that all?  Everyone feels like that at some point.  Don't worry about it. Just keep-"  "No," I interrupted, "That's not all.  I feel like I can't do my job because I'm distracted."  I took a deep breath, deciding how much I wanted to tell him.  "By someone."  He looked confused.  "Someone is distracting you?  How so?"  "You know," I said, thinking it was obvious, "I'm attracted to them and it keeps tearing my attention away from what I should be doing."  My next few words came tumbling out so fast that I couldn't stop myself.  "And I'm trying so hard to stop, but I can't.  And I'm usually so good at turning my feelings off and walking away, but for some reason I just can't this time.  And I'm sorry."  When I looked back up at him, I saw the strangest look on his face, and I knew it was finally dawning on him.  "Yes," I finally admitted, "You're my distraction."  There was a brief silence after I said it, one that most people would probably call "awkward."  And for a second there, I thought that he was going to tell me that I was his distraction too.  But when I looked into his eyes, I saw that it wasn't true.  Those two beautiful little marbles were full of sadness, distain, and worst of all: disappointment.  He sighed, and a single leftover tear trailed down my cheek.  "Gabby," he said, "I forgive you.  But you need to stop.  Now.  And I really expected more of you."  He got up from the table, ready to leave.  "I would have thought that you had much more self-control and maturity than this."  As he left me alone again, my eyes once more began to fill with tears.  And even though that was probably the worst thing he could have said, I knew that he was exactly right.  

where i belong: scenes from week 1 at camp

The sound of honking and wings flapping filled the air.  Geese scrambled to get out of my way as I walked down the land bridge toward the swimming lake.  Unfortunately, they had left their droppings everywhere, so keeping my shoes clean as I walked was a near impossible task.  As I opened the gate, I realized how weird it felt to be doing this after all these years.  For so long I had come here as a camper, so I of course knew the "don't enter the swimming area unless the waterfront director is on duty and says you can come in" rule.  Yet here I was, walking through the gate while there was no one inside.  It honestly felt kind of wrong.  I set my stuff down under my lifeguard stand, found the skimming bucket, and started the tedious job of cleaning out the water.  Although my job as the waterfront director was mostly lifeguarding, it also included removing the muck from the lake  before the first group showed up to swim.  I checked my watch as I dumped out another bucket-full onto the weeds.  9:38 Tuesday morning.  The first program, Tee Pee Town, was scheduled to swim at 10:00.  I sighed and continued working.  It wasn't as if I hated my job--on the contrary, I loved just being at camp--it was just that I never saw myself doing this.  When I applied to work at Camp Haluwasa, I figured that I would be a counselor, hopefully in one of the older programs.  I had wanted to work in kids' lives just like my counselors had done when I was a camper.  But that wasn't what happened.  They needed a waterfront director, so I said that I would be willing to do it.  It wasn't my first choice, but it wasn't terrible.  Mostly, I was just jealous of the staff that got campers.  I would have done just as good of a job as the other Tee Pee Town Counselors, I thought, Why do I have to be the one stuck here at the lake all day?  My selfishness was rearing its ugly head, and no matter how much I tried to force it down, it would climb its way back into my brain.  "God, please help me," I said out loud.  Praying out loud--as long as I was alone--helped me to collect my thoughts much better than doing it silently.  "Help me to do the job I was given," I said, "Help me not to be jealous of the other counselors.  Help me to somehow, even though I'll mostly be lifeguarding, touch the life of at least one camper this week."  It wasn’t much, but it was exactly how I felt as I finished the job of picking up goose poop.  I put the skimming bucket away, sat down, and looked up to see the Tee Pee Town campers  walking down the land bridge.  As I waited for the group to get to the gate, I looked down at my wrist.  I had on a bracelet that I had gotten last week at staff training that said I AM SECOND.  Help me to remember that this week, God.  I thought, Help me to put myself second, even when I would rather be doing something else.  I knew that this week would be impossible to get through without Him, but I had no idea just how much I would have to rely on His strength in the next few days.  Putting a smile on my face, I walked over to greet Tee Pee Town and got myself ready for a long day of guarding. 

I remember this being emotional as a camper, but this is a little bit insane.  I didn't remember having this many girls crying after the Slam skit and having so few counselors to comfort them.  I felt bad only being able to talk to one at a time, but I couldn't really do anything about it.  I sat down next to one girl and asked her how she was doing.  "Well," she said, "I always get emotional after the slam skit.  It happens every year, so I try not to let it affect me, but I can't help it, because it's basically my life up there.  I've done all those things."  The skit that she was talking about was one put on by the counselors in the older programs called "I Deserve," named after a song by Third Day.  It was a silent skit depicting the life of a girl who was tempted by many different sins--drugs, gossip, pride, lust, suicide--and eventually is trapped by them.  Satan, along with all her sins, pushes her down and doesn't let her escape until Jesus comes on the scene.  He lets the girl out of her prison and forgives her, and she is finally able to walk away from her sins, healed and whole.  Listening to the camper's story, I realized that she really had done all those things.  Yet somehow, when I asked her if she had accepted Christ into her life yet, she said no.  I was astonished that someone who had a life story such as hers didn't want to be set free.  "Why not?" I asked.  After a little bit of hesitation, she gave me the only answer that made sense.  "I don't think I can ever forgive myself," she said, "I've done so many things that I regret.  I don't even deserve to be forgiven."  I just looked at her for a second, unable to think of something to say.  "Let me get my Bible," I finally managed to get out.  I grabbed it out of my backpack a few seats over and opened up to Romans 8.  "Here," I said, "In the Bible, Paul says that there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."  After explaining what condemnation was, I continued to read a few more passages to her, then related it back to the skit.  "You're right.  Your life is like the skit.  But you're at the part where you've realized that you're trapped in your sin and Christ is your only way out.  You're standing there deciding between him and your sin, and Satan is just pointing out everything you've done wrong.  And all you have to do is take that last step and kneel at his feet."  It was amazing how perfectly the skit depicted where she was in her life right now.  We talked for a little while after that, but she ended up not making a decision that night.  She told me that it made sense and she would think about it, but she still didn’t want to forgive herself.  It kind of hurt me to hear that, but I knew that I had done all I could.  I would just have to keep praying and let God do the rest.

"Okay guys," Aunt Flity said as we got back to Girls Tee Pee Town, "You have time to shower if you want.  We have an hour and a half until dinner."  Oh good, I thought, I might have time to take a nap.  Although working with the campers was fun and worthwhile, it was absolutely exhausting.  I was just about to enter my longhouse when I heard my name being called.  "Aunt Gabby?" asked one of the girls, "Do you wanna go on a run with me?"  I really didn't want to, but I knew I should.  "C'mon," she tried to convince me, "It'll only be like two miles."  "Okay," I finally agreed, "But only if we stay on camp property and Aunt Flity says it's okay."  She got the okay, and we got our running shoes on and headed out toward the obstacle course.  I don't remember how, but we got on the conversation of what sports we play.  "See, I'm trying to decide between soccer and cross country this fall," she explained, "I've played soccer all my life, but I love running too.  And I don't wanna give up soccer, but I think I might actually do better in cross country."  Although I was huffing and puffing too hard to smile, I was amazed at how God worked.  He put me in this position at least partly because I had gone through the exact same thing before.  "Well," I told her, "I actually had the exact same struggle in high school.  I played soccer freshman and sophomore year and then ran cross country junior and senior year.  Then in college I had the same problem.  Just this year I had to decide between soccer, cross country, and rugby."  I went on to explain how I had prayed and stressed about my decision, but still had no clue about what God wanted to do.  Then one of my friends had talked to me about it, and said that I might be thinking about it the wrong way.  "You know," she had said, "God might not really care about what sport you play.  As long as you're doing everything you can to serve and worship him with whatever you're doing, I don't think it matters what sport you're playing."  It seemed like such an obvious concept, but I didn't understand it until then.  I explained this to the camper, and she seemed to be in the same place I had been.  I talked to her about some of the verses and ideas I had thought about, and she said that she would look them up.  As we finished our lap around the camp, I thanked God again for putting me here.  It was worth all the work to be able to minister to even one camper. 

It was still raining a little bit as I walked back from the Tab, so I put my hood up.  I walked quickly on the way back to Tee Pee Town, not because I was in a hurry, but because I didn't want anyone else walking with me.  I had been with people all week, but as much as I loved it, I needed some time alone.  I just felt so weird and calm and broken and . . . empty.  But not the bad kind of empty.  Not the kind where you're confused and hurt and lonely.  It was the kind of empty where you've been giving and giving and giving until you feel like you have nothing left.  I was the kind of empty that Paul was talking about in Philippians when he said that he was being "poured out like a drink offering."  I felt like all week I had been pouring out and pouring out, and now I had nothing left in me to give.  I was empty and needed to be filled again.  I couldn't wait to get home and physically rest and be fed, but I also needed so badly to spiritually rest and be fed.  As I sang and walked through the mud puddles, I marveled at how God not only had been working in the campers this week, but in me too.  Never before had I felt so empty but been so happy about it.  And I knew, as I had known all week, that this was where I belonged.

blog challenge: explain your title

Okay, I confess.  This was actually part of what I was what I was supposed to blog about the other day, but I changed it up and am going to write about it today because I think it deserves its own post.  So obviously my blog is named "overwhelmed but understood."  When I decided to make a blog, I wanted to come up with a catchy name that was fun to say, but I wanted it to also mean something.  I really liked the idea of having two opposite prefixes (like over and under) go with two different words in the title, but not have it actually be a contradiction.  I finally settled on "overwhelmed but understood" because that's how my life felt at that time.  At times I would feel completely overwhelmed by everything, and other times I felt at peace because people understood me.

But as time went on, I grew to understand that my blog name had two meanings for me, both of which really do describe my life.  The first meaning is in relation to the world and other people.  Sometimes I am just completely overwhelmed by everything that's going on: stresses, temptations, distractions, and all those crazy little things that happen every day.  However, there are many other people around me that are going through the same exact things.  Therefore, I was understood by my friends.  Even though I'm often overwhelmed by life, it is an understandable feeling.

But I believe the second meaning to my blog title is the more important one.  Every day, I am completely overwhelmed by my God.  I'm overwhelmed by his love.  By his power.  By his forgiveness.  By the fact that he has blessed me so much, and continues to bless me even when I'm not very grateful.   Everything that is done by someone so perfect and infinite overwhelms the small person that I am.  But there's a twist.  Even though He is the maker of the universe, he understands me.  He became a man and walked the earth and experienced the same things that I do.  So even though I am completely overwhelmed by God, I am also understood by Him.

In this way, I am overwhelmed but understood.  And I hope that this blog provides another way for you to be able to understand me.  

blog challenge: tell about your blog

So a few of my fellow bloggers and I are starting a challenge.  I would call it a "30 day challenge," but we are all too busy to blog every day, so it's more of a "30 post challenge."  The first topic is "tell about your blog" so we're all going to blog about that this week.  (If you want to see the other blogs participating, I'll put the links at the bottom of this post).  I'm going to cheat a little bit by kind of mixing the first and second topics, but I'm sure they'll be okay with that.  Sorry for the long introduction, but I'm pretty excited about this :)

I started blogging, in short, because of my best friend Kaylee. (She has a great blog called "my unfortunately not boring life" that's linked on the sidebar if you want to check it out).  One day I was reading her blog and felt so inspired that I just had to start my own.  Her blog is completely random--sometimes funny, sometimes serious, sometimes poetry, sometimes ramblings--sometimes she even uses things that she has written for school.  But I decided to make mine more of a poetry blog, although I have branched out a bit since the beginning.  I wanted to have an outlet for my writing so the people I cared about could see it, but would still not have a huge audience.  Using the internet was also nice because I could be as anonymous as I wanted to, but my friends would know who I was and what I was talking about.

In the beginning, I wanted only my close friends to read my blog, but I think I've changed my mind about that.  I've become much more comfortable with complete strangers reading it, although they will not understand it as well as my friends.  My blog is really for anyone to read, but it is directed especially towards those who enjoy amateur poetry.  It can also be used as a way to understand me better; somehow my feelings come through much more clearly when I write them down than when I try to explain them out loud.  Originally, I didn't tell anyone other than my best friend about my blog, but eventually I told a few others about it, and now I even link to it on my facebook page sometimes.  I realized that since I enjoy reading other peoples' writing so much, I should be fair and give them a chance to read mine.

I had no idea when I started this almost a year ago that I would enjoy it so much, but here I am.  I blog very sporadically, and it often gets forgotten in my busy life.  I tend to post the most during the summer when I finally have spare time, but I write throughout the year.  I am inspired by many things, but a few are nature, my wonderful friends, and my wonderful God.  I wouldn't say I have the best blog ever, but I certainly do enjoy it.

If you want to check them out, here are the other participating blogs: http://fondlylovingstars.blogspot.com/, http://writingthedance.blogspot.com/, and http://krazykay.blogspot.com/.  Happy reading!