After the dreary wind and drizzle of the first several days here in Auke Bay, Alaska, it has become unseasonably gorgeous outside. Right now, I’m sitting in our dining hall in front of the windows that overlook the front beach of Berners Bay. Breathtaking, snow-capped mountains tower out of the water. Most of the counselors, having arrived a few days to a few hours ago, are hanging out on the beach, enjoying the sunshine and each other. Thank God. I was worried they were never going to say any words on their own.
I’ve been in Alaska for 12 days now, but it somehow feels as if it’s already been a month or more. Although things have normalized at this point, they got off to sort of an eh start. Coming back to Echo Ranch after 4 years feels kind of like visiting a house I used to live in. This place is familiar – sort of – but these people aren’t. The day after I arrived, I jumped right into the work staff groove, helping out with kitchen prep and cleanup (basically, cutting veggies, making dessert, and washing dishes 230981 times).
The first night I arrived, I was just in a funk. I took a long walk (with my 3rd cup of hot tea of the day in hand) around the camp, just exploring, remembering where everything was, talking to Jesus, recounting all the woes. It was weird and lonely. And cold. And I just kept thinking, What the heck am I doing here?
It wasn’t weird coming out the first time, at that phase in my life. I was a college student and could just up and leave for the summer, no problem. I wasn’t really concerned about my family, and I didn’t have a pending relationship back home or at school. I wasn’t “soul tied”. Things are so different now. My relationships with family members have deepened, and I find myself worrying more about how things are going back home. I think about my potential plans for the fall, feeling uncertain of what the best thing is (and we all know how I do with decision making).
I sat at the top of the zipline platform and whined and sat in all my uncertainty and my junk. I thought about my World Race training camp, now 19 months ago, when God told Allison Johnston to honor all that we had left to come there. I didn’t resonate with that then, but I do now. I thought of Jesus’ disciples, who immediately abandoned everything they were doing and followed Him. And that made me feel a little better. I guess I had just thought that abandoning everything physically meant I could abandon it mentally/emotionally as well, and that hasn’t been the case at all. And then of course I know I’m supposed to just trust Jesus and stop freaking out (the usual), but I don’t really know what that looks like.
I still felt kind of blah after all that, but then I kept going on my walk and saw all my special buildings, like the chapel where I had puppeteered and worshiped Jesus a zillion times, and the house where my “camp mom” lived and made me tea and told me her super crazy and detailed life story and listened to my woes, and the camp store where I would soon purchase some comfy sweatpants. I went inside a cabin and smelled that signature firewood/stove aroma, and I was immediately transported back to the days of living with campers and attempting to get that dang fire to stay lit. It was glorious. And I felt refreshed.
The next couple of days were just a process of my initial social ineptness transforming to mostly social eptness. I’ve gotten used to this “warming up” process by now and have been cutting myself a lot more slack, as far as not thinking I’m an idiot and stuff. I started to feel like I was settling in, finding my place.
Counselors started arriving early the following week. In spite of initial fears of counselor advising failure, I’ve been amazed at the ways I’ve been able to connect with these girls. Many of their demeanors and life experiences are very similar to mine, both in the past and the present, and God has blessed me with so many opportunities to share some of the vast depths of my wisdom with them. Ha. Seriously, though, I hear their stories and think, time and time again, Yep. I know what you’re saying. And I’m right there with you now, or I’ve been there before. And I’m pretty sure it’s going to be okay, because God has a knack for working stuff out. I’m seeing the evidence of our God, who hand picked all of us out of each of our normal lives and brought us to this place, with all our baggage and failures and quirks and fears. And, slowly but surely, I am seeing Him make us one body.
He is so good. And, at least for now, I know I am right where I am supposed to be.
This post is adapted from an e-mail update I send out to friends and family who are interested in my missions experiences. If you would like to be added to that list, just e-mail me at reagan.taylor88@gmail.com to let me know.
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