Slow to Change....

Lately I have been thinking more about childhood memories. I guess it's because I see our children transforming into teenagers right before my eyes and wonder where the time has gone. One of Tony's favorite childhood memories was making apple butter in a giant copper kettle with his family. This year we decided to introduce that tradition to DCC and pulled the kettle out of storage for the 2012 Annual Meeting.

Knowing the importance of the kettle in Tony's family history, it got me thinking more about my own childhood. When I was growing up we had no sidewalks and one of the first things Shanti became aware of upon our move to Oregon was the absence of a smooth flat surface for riding her bike. When she first started speaking English she referred to the old sidewalk in front of our 100 year old home in goshen as "bumpy town" and the newly paved alley behind us as "smooth town." She preferred smooth town for practicing her cycling skills.

 As a kid, I would spend about a week each summer at my grandmother's house. She lived in town and there were plenty of sidewalks on which a child could ride. My favorite route was to ride circles around the Sheridan Mennonite Church which was right next to her home. For what seemed to be hours, I would ride around and around the building and think about things. I maintained a curious fascination with that building for much of my childhood, and to some extent, I probably still do.  There was something almost forbidden about the church and while I remember feeling warmly welcomed there, I was also aware that I didn't quite fit in. Yet I fondly remember Vacation Bible School in the basement; the comforting smells of chicken noodle casseroles wafting through the sanctuary and thinking how cool it felt to sit up in the balcony. I was back in that church recently.  Not much has changed in the past 30 years.  I found myself smiling when I found the women's restroom to still be the same shade of pink! My hunch is that the vintage serving trays used for fellowship meals are likely the same ones that were used at my parents' wedding.

 Last week a parent sent an email describing the eager anticipation that her children were feeling about DCC's upcoming Annual Meeting.  I posted her comment on facebook and within minutes Cara Ediger responded that her childhood experience had been the same; that she could hardly wait to go to DCC with her family for Annual Meeting.

I have also witnessed folks walk into the lodge, breathe deeply and declare, "Ahhh, it still smells the same!" And I imagine that for people visiting DCC for the first time in a while, there is comfort in seeing those bold orange tables still lined neatly in rows.  Yes, some things at camp have been upgraded, but much is slow to change. The smells of freshly baked bread, the crackle of a cozy fire, the breath-taking feeling of dipping your toes in the cold creek, the sense of community one feels worshipping around the campfire. It is difficult to not feel awed by the presence of God when you are here.  I still find myself looking up at the towering trees nearly 40 years after my first visit and the feeling is still the same...."WOW."  I am grateful for the perspective.

When I look at the faces of campers each summer, I know we have a ginormous responsibility. The childhood memories of 100s of campers are being created right in front of me. They are developing their faith journey among us. This weekend, among family and friends, will make an impact and shape not only who our children are now, but also who they will become. Like me, Drift Creek Camp will forever be part of their childhood memories. My hope is that when today's campers look back on their camp experiences, they will recall not only being welcomed, but fully loved and accepted, enveloped fully by God's grace and part of a community of believers.