twenty six/twenty seven/twenty eight

(from my journals at cedar lake camp)

twenty six
June 20th 2012

Noodles the Terrifying Panda (he is real)

-He doesn't like it if you bathe in "gel-low" chocolate pudding from Canada
-He loves Tapioca
-He is neutral on vanilla
-He was created in the twilight zone of the Atlantic Ocean
-He attached Guy in 1884
-He attacked Chad in 1966 (sucked out his bones)
-He is a nomad
-He likes fat Americans
-He doesn't sleep
-He's immortal
-He has 5 hearts and 3 brains (he's very cunning)
-A wooden stake tipped in "gel-low" Canadian chocolate pudding through the heart will kill him!


twenty seven
June25th 2012

camp sunsets are gorgeous
the silver sliver of a moon is hanging in the baby blue sky. lace like clouds surround it
dust and ants are covering the land beneath me
it seems to be wailing, crying out for rain
my feet stomp the ground in rhythm, my heart beats fast
the trees around me shake their leaves, my voice raises-imploring the sky to loose her tears and water the earth
the dust cakes my feet, my hands
by the time the golden light streaks crimson in the evening, I am exhausted from my dance
"red sky and night, sailor's delight" sounds over and over in my mind.

but me and my friends are not sailors.

-I love it when the pink light of the sleepy sun leaks through the wise old trees at camp. the cool breeze blowing. Daniel's voice speaking truth about my Savior-God. the campfire crackling. kids falling asleep and whispering.gold sparks against the blue of the pool. the smell of dirt and sweat and camp being blown in the breeze.
...yes.

twenty eight
Canoe Camp 2012 (MK, Jen, and Julie helped with this one)

day one:
As the sun rose over the plateau, we set off on our journey. Like a ghost in the night we were whisked away that early morning to the water's edge. We could say "we were gone with the wind." After losing our way, we answered the call of Taylor's Ford. Backs bent and brows sweating, we loaded our bags and our burdens onto the valiant vessel. The Spirit of Dale Hollow welcomed our canoes as we guided them in.
The bow of our boat cut through the water like a knife through slightly warm butter. Our paddles shattered the serene glassy blue-green surface of Dale Hollow.
The burn in our arms was like a furnace cooking the clay piece of a master potter.
And our hearts beat as one.