To my beautiful, probably still heat exhausted Royal Family,

Somewhere between sitting on the floor of Redwood singing Lux Aeterna at 1am, leading another round of “Miss Meg says” and crying from laughter in the dark with Susan, Tyler, Priscilla, Vanessa and Beth I realized that there was no way I could have actually been prepared for camp this year.

And I think that’s why the only thing I could hear from God the weeks prior to camp was “just show up”.

All we could do was show up because I know for me, for a lot of us, we had so many things we had to choose to leave at the door. We had to choose to toss some things down the mountain and disconnect because that was the only way we would be able to move forward.

We had to choose to believe God was already there; ahead of us, behind us and walking in the midst of us.

I was a little overwhelmed leading communion on Monday night. I felt the weight of whatever was to come. As we waited to see the campers that might not make it, as we tried to get as prepared as we could.

And again I heard “just show up”.

We showed up in chapel and in the hot sun. We showed up at the pool and we ate so the kids would eat even though it was too hot to eat.

The deans and staff counselors and directors showed up with the amount of steps they took running along side kids. They showed up for the counselors by making sure they were finding ways to meet their own needs. (I think my annual Susan makes me cry by asking me how I was occurred on Friday).

You all showed up for me by doing one more round of miss meg says and encouraging your kids to listen. You also all showed up for me by not seeing a single bible in lost and found.

I think this week was a reminder that while we all have things and trials and stressors and ways we feel less than- we will all show up for the kids.

I say it every year: I feel as if, during the week of camp, I’m operating out of exactly who I’m meant to be. It’s a weird thing to explain, it’s just something I feel. I know that no matter how much energy I do or don’t think have- that at the end of the night (or in most cases- the start of the next day) when my head would hit the pillow I knew that I had given all the things in my hands and no matter how it felt when I woke up- my hands when be full again. Even if they were just full from the cold Celsius Jen handed me before 7am.

There was one moment at camp that I felt a breakdown coming so I found Susan and Tyler at a table during the birthday dinner and told them I needed to check out for a moment. Before I even stepped away from the table I had two or three boys want to tell me a bible verse; so I stopped and did that and then made my way to lay down and cry and fend off what felt like a panic attack before going to chapel.

That night was the LIT hayride and even though I’d spent most of chapel breathing through tears I got on the hayride with the boys and got to see my favorite thing that camp brings: kids being kids.

I got to see kids be kids because we adults decided to show up.

There’s a lot of reasons I push myself for a week at camp, a lot of reasons I show up with all that I am and all that I have.

This year there were 90ish kids and 100 adults that were the reasons.

I know that there is more for me to sit with about this week of camp. I know that God shifted a thing inside of me that I didn’t realize needed shifting.

So, on Tuesday, I’m going to find clean clothes in my house in the morning and probably go sit somewhere and write and rest and find some of my friends to hug. And I’m going to sit and ask God what He put into my hands this week. I’m going to take sometime to write some words to the humans who showed up with me this week.

But, right now, on the plane from one home in Irvine to another home in Washington I just have to say that I’m so grateful for another week serving His kids with you all.
I’m grateful for a week of moments that matter.
I’m grateful for karaoke golf cart rides and Pixar shorts and sarcastic nine year olds and side hugs from little boys who tell me I’m the nicest person they’ve ever met (sorry Lenore).
I’m grateful for the same little boys and their choice vocabulary and the way they helped me up the hill so I wouldn’t fall.
I’m grateful for the ability to see little girls be little girls and play in makeup and dress up. And also feel strong using a hammer and building projects.
I’m grateful for all the laughter and how the girls in upstairs redwood were very particular about the temperature of their showers.

And I’m so grateful that as He always does- that God met us there.

With all the love in the world and a promise to show up with all that I have,
Miss Meg