PHOTO: Some ferns growing along Robinson Creek.
Hey, friends,
I’m still at camp. LuLu is still sitting in the garage having sleep over’s with the old fridge. But as for me, my heart has blended with the sand and the pines up here and it’s beginning to become hard to distinguish where I begin and they stop. Robinson Creek has become life sustaining; campfire devotions have become my manna.
Have you ever seen a sixteen-year-old laugh so hard they lose their voice? I have this week and it is a beautiful sound. Have you ever had a fifteen-year-old cry so hard on your shoulder from heartache that she was dripping in sweat and gulping for air? This week I have… and it was a healing sound. Have you ever cried at the sound of a hundred teens singing in harmony at the top of their lungs and heart about God’s love for them? Yep, that sound has filled nights.
Only a couple more days to go and LuLu and I will be reunited for a few days. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get in a couple of rides before I’m off again to do research on a new book in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. But, I must stop and thank my trusty, pink bike for the new health she has given me. I’ve been tromping around this camp for over twenty years, and for the first time in many, many years, the Fake Knee has been able to do the many stairs around here without much complaining. It was just a couple of years ago at a camp session that I was only able to get around with the help of a walking stick. One year, I had to leave early because the Fake Knee just couldn’t function on this sifting, sandy soil. But not this time. With the help of LuLu, the muscles around the Fake Knee are now strong. The pain that I usually feel as I walk or bend has been considerably less. That my friends, is LuLu’s doings. My twelve- mile bike rides have made a difference. So thanks, LuLu, and thanks dear hubby, for the gift of this new, pink bike given to me for my 60th my birthday. You’ve both given me back my health… at least as good as it’s going to get considering I’m about as old as dirt. As for the cowgirl, she’s just about as healthy as she cares to get. To her, bike seats are nothing more that a torture device and always will be. Too bad for her.
Must run. The huge bell in the bell tower is about to ring and I’m off to the nature center to teach class. Hug a teen today and try to make them laugh while they drink a glass of milk. Milk coming out the nose is a beautiful sight… for the ones watching.
Love you,
deb