A Letter to Myself

Dear Me-last-week,

I know you aren’t really looking forward to church camping. I know being around too many people for too long drains you. I know you’re already ready to cry or grump or explode–or all of the above.

But, dear me, I know you’ll make some good memories.

On the way there, you’ll squeal over some yellow and purple flowers by the side of the road–three times, since you guys have to turn around to get something forgotten. Dad will even slow down so you can get a picture.

You’ll blast music (because the windows are down) and sing along and even dance.

You’ll take a picture of the sun sparkling on the lake and it’ll turn out looking like fairy lights.

You’ll go on a walk with two other ladies and an adorable toddler being put to sleep, and enjoy the conversation and greenness and peace, and take a picture of moss on a log to go with a poem you wrote.

You’ll sit with the sleeping toddler in the almost-undisturbed backroom and take a picture of the stone heart in the wall.

You’ll love watching and loving on all the cute kids, especially the one who’s always happy to see you. You’ll have to keep her from getting too close to the fire and she’ll fuss about it, but then she’ll lay her head on your shoulder and you’ll melt.

You’ll play in the sand with some children and smile because one keeps trying to hug another.

You’ll play in the cornhole tournament and even though you and your partner aren’t very good, you’ll have fun–and a lot of practice for next time, especially since the one team went back down to 15 twice! 😄

You’ll go on a boat ride, smile at the kids’ excitement and waving at the other people, listen to the hyperactive boy beside you tell you things like “That one’s mine” and “We’re beating them”, and see an airplane land in the water. Oh, and you won’t get seasick (even though you very easily get carsick).

You’ll laugh about a soaking-wet little girl giving hugs and even receive a hug and pick her up, then you’ll take a picture of her hair because someone braided it and she wanted to see.

You’ll thoroughly enjoy Talent Night and participate in a skit that people love and bring up several times throughout the rest of camping.

You’ll pick flowers and put them in a chocolate syrup bottle, and it will lift your spirits every time you see it.

You and a bunch of others will pile into the catering van, and the driver will drive just a bit crazy, and someone standing in the back will nearly fall. Then y’all will get to the volleyball courts and pour out of the two vehicles, and you’ll smile to yourself wondering what the other campers there thought.

You’ll enjoy the volleyball games, even with the flat ball, and be surprised at how easily the “blonde” girl who often overlooks stuff finds the air pump needle in the sand.

You’ll love the hymn sing, and someone will joke about it being a stand-off since two sides were facing each other.

You’ll play Ticket to Ride and Scum, get a hug that you needed, and stay up till midnight on Sunday night to everybody’s surprise. (It’s amazing how much a little bit of solitude and silence can do.)

You’ll eat a lot of good food, including your first Honey Bun, and will try and like peach pop. You’ll take a child or two through the line with you so many times that it will feel weird (but good) to go by yourself.

You’ll take so many photos of the gorgeous sunsets (and other things).

You’ll jam out to some funny Instagram audios and play the gospel choir singing “Happy Birthday” for your friend’s birthday.

You’ll have a good talk with a couple and almost cry (in a good way) because of something he tells you.

I know sometimes it’s hard to focus on the good in the moment. But, girl, you can at least try!

God surrounds us with beauty and gifts and unnecessary blessings. We just have to open our eyes. . . and our hearts, since more often than not the blindness is there.

So open up, Jules. Look for the good and let yourself be happy.

It really will be a good weekend.

Love, Me-this-week