As we come to the close of yet another
crazy semester of retreats at Camp Cho-Yeh I can’t help but feel heavy-hearted
as I realize our team is about to scatter into our various summer camp
positions and eventually into other parts of the state and country this fall.
I feel like some masked thief broke in when
we weren’t ready and sped up all the clocks and filled all our hours with activity
instead of conversations. I’ve already started my summer job of working in the
office so I’ve been having actual feelings of separation anxiety as I rarely
see my team. I’ve started feeling so fearful that time is running out and I
haven’t yet given all I could of myself.
I feel that temptation to count my regrets,
the times when I could have done more or better, but I stop myself. There’s no
need to relive our histories unless they make us better and stronger, not
troubled.
I start to really think about the good-byes
and how much we can all agree on this being an awful, awful part of our
existence. Anyone who tries to live in a place without roots will find it.
Anyone who craves adventure and newness will find it. And here I am having to
do this multiple times a year it seems. It’s so unsettling.
So I realize I need comfort in all this. I
need a constant. And I remember a friend once telling me that in a world of
good-byes God is the ultimate hello. He’s the forever hello. And that is
something to hold onto when all your familiarities are taking flight.
