Lakeshore United Methodist Assembly

The Lakeshore Blog is moving

2012-01-11T15:58:00.003-06:00

To all our faithful followers, we are changing our blog address to lakeshoreuma.workpress.com. This blog address will close soon. We will continue the same type of content and with all our old posts archived. We'll continue to post This Week at Lakeshore weekly and hope to cook up a few new segments. Thanks for following us.

This week at Lakeshore 1/1-7

2012-01-06T17:34:00.001-06:00

Lakeshore is like a big sleepy bear this week, shaking off the drowsiness from a winter's sleep. Emerging from the cave, squinting your eyes, because you haven't seen light in quite some time. The light is returning, if you haven't noticed. The days are a bit longer, and the nights just a little shorter. As I write this, just after 5:00pm, There is still a little purple, orange light left from the sun, who just got out of town. It's not much, but it's a start.

Lakeshore has been resting since early December from the marathons of summer camp and retreat season. There is something nice about the rest of winter. It doesn't always make for the most exciting days, when it gets dark before you're out of the office or class or whatever, but you get home, get settled, and snuggle into something warm. People aren't as hip on getting out to do things when there's hardly daylight and freezing temps, so we sit inside and reflect more. You're much more likely to find yourself sitting there just looking thoughtfully towards the ceiling, thinking of something high-minded and deep in January than you are in July.

There was a fog that set in on Thursday morning as the weather continued to play with our emotions. It was a thick fog, and the bare branches reached through it like creepy, dark arms. You felt like you were in a Hawthorne novel, walking through the woods. Towards the middle of the morning, though, the fog settled low to the ground, and there was a line where it ended and blended in with the blue of the sky above. It was a beautiful fade from light gray to dark blue.

Early in this week, we had a large number of former staff visit to help us with some of our annual bulk mailing. Bulk Mail is certainly not the type of activity to be grouped on the excitement scale with mountain biking or hang gliding, but I think these college kids had grown a little restless at the end of their breaks and wanted something that could at least be called an adventure together. So, ten or so came and helped us stuff hundreds of envelopes with brochures and flyers that we hope will be bring a few new people out to camp this spring.

They took a few breaks, walking down to the waterfront, following the muddy shoreline that emerges in the winter when the river level drops. Sarah Sharp lost a pair of sunglasses in the muddy river, Matt Moody found them for her, and she left them laying out near the waterfront. The staff took pictures of themselves crossing muddy creekbeds on fallen branches and artsy pictures of the mold and water and sky all around.

These are those get togethers you love to arrange at this age. You know that you will remember them for the rest of your life. Even though, on paper, it just amounted to stuff mail and getting your shoes muddy, you much more is going on for you to remember. You are leaving the cave and taking your friends with you. You are stretching and opening your eyes to see new light and breath fresh air. You are testing the water, remembering the lessons from warmer times. You can feel life coming back, pumping from your heart to every part of you. Yes, soon the days will go on and on, till we can hardly stand anymore. They sun will hang stay with us. All that time spent in thought and stillness will change to furious activity and the restlessness will be satisfied. It is on it's way. It will be time to do all that we have been dreaming of and preparing for.

This week at Lakeshore 12/11-17

2011-12-16T17:41:00.002-06:00

Lakeshore has become a ghost town, as the holidays approach. The phone rarely rings, and, usually, it is a sales call asking to speak to the "pastor for the church," or "head of accounts receivable," or maybe even "the one who makes the decisions about the Pitney Bowes account." In this time of relative quiet, you often lose some of your social skills like words and complete sentences.

I've been on a mission this week to clean up my office, which is usually in such terrible shape that I have to ask guests to sit in the main room of the office. I have a tendency to let things that I feel I should get to soon pile on my desk or floor or chair, and I, then, don't get to them. My office also sometimes becomes considered as a storage room for anything my position entails. So, ropes equipment, animal bones, items left by former staff, and a wide assortment of other things get left on my floor. This time, I'm feeling good about my progress. The office is probably cleaner than it was the day I was hired, and I have developed a system to prevent unwanted piling, though it's probably not exciting to anyone but me.

When you lock yourself in an office and concentrate on a task such as cleaning, you enter your own thoughts. When you spend hours awake, focusing on a project, not talking, a phone call can be an awkward thing. I don't consider myself a brilliant conversationalist in the first place, but a phone call during this time, puts my at one of my social lows. I'll forget words, take paragraphs to get across something that should be a sentence, and probably sound to the person on the other line like one of the staff's children, asked to answer the phone if it rings while they cross the street to get the mail. But, maybe in this season of peace and goodwill, callers will forgive my inability to converse.

The staff Christmas party took place this past Thursday in the Alford Recreation Center. Bill decorated the building, so our eyes were treated to all kinds of candy, while our stomachs were treated to even more. Gary talked about how good a year we had as a camp. How, even though we faced big budget cuts, we had managed to come out in the black. He talked about how important every person who contributed to what Lakeshore does is important. It was a good feeling to be with all these friends and their families, sharing food, gifts, and stories. And, there was a candy bar, with enough candy for the kids (and their parents) to fill up a bag or two to take home.

With the weather bouncing around as it has, and the fact that Christmas advertising started a few days before Halloween, it's been difficult for me to remember each day it is growing closer. I am a Christmas romantic, religiously and secularly. I love Christmas music, decorations, movies, and pretty much any other nostalgia you can heap on. I am in love with that movie version of Christmas in the 40s and 50s, as the war had ended, and we were on top of the world. The train pulled into our small towns bringing family, gifts, black-and-white, and swing music. The fireplace kept us warm almost as much as love and good-will did. Just play Nat King Cole's version of "The Christmas Song," dust the ground with snow, and sit me next to the fire with a warm drink, and I am in Christmas bliss.

Of course, even the greatest Christmas highs must experience the eventual come-down. I tried hard to close my ears while in Wal-Mart in the middle of November to avoid the Christmas music I was not yet supposed to hear. I knew it was too soon. I held off as long as I could, but on the evening of Thanksgiving, I gave in, and played Christmas music. And, it was everything I hoped it would be. It was nostalgic and dreamy. It could have only been better if a one-horse open sleigh had pulled up to whisk Allyson and I away to pick out the perfect tree, which we would bring back to decorate with popcorn, candles, and tinsel.

But, here we are weeks later, one week still to go before Christmas, and the glamour has worn off a bit. Most of our Christmas parties have already happened in this marathon of present giving, tasty food eating efficiency. The presents have mostly been bought, and if they haven't, you're probably about to have a mental break down due to the stress of it all. I still play my music and enjoy my decorations, but there are times it is like that brand new album you get that you're so pumped about, so you listen to it over and over and over. Then, by Tuesday, you're ok to put it away for a while and listen to Coldplay again.

Today, Allyson and I took the afternoon to go to town. There was a blood drive going on at First Methodist, so we both took a good book and signed ourselves up. Yolanda was the name of the nurse who pricked my finger and asked me all the questions about traveling to other countries, using needles, and the others I won't go into further detail on (this is, after all, a family blog). She was wearing a bracelet with a picture in the center, and I could tell it was a saint or some sort of religious painting. I asked who it was after we had talked for a while, and it turned out to be the Virgin Mary. I did not think about it till after returning to the office what a nice reminder this time of year.

I may have heard, "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas," one too many times at the moment, but during this season, if you pay close enough attention, Mary and Joseph are making their way to Bethlehem, as we speak. I am hoping that when I come down from my secular Christmas high that I'll land in the stable right next to a sheep or an ox. I'll settle into a patch of hay in the corner and be quietly amazed by the beauty of the night, the peace after such travel and hardship. I will remind myself that there is still plenty to come. Christmas is just beginning.

This week at Lakeshore 12/4-10

2011-12-09T16:42:00.000-06:00

The slow time has begun at camp. Much of the permanent staff is on vacation now. Retreat groups aren't too interested in coming up for the weekend during the hectic holiday season. Too many parties and too much shopping. College kids are home after exams, and, really, it's getting cold outside. The idea of a retreat would just add stress to a time that doesn't need much more. So, December becomes retreat season for the Lakeshore Staff.

Justin has cleared the furniture from the floors in the Conference Center to wax the floors. There is a smell of vinegar and industrial strength cleaner as you walk through the building. It looks so clean, you feel that you are out of place. This building is never this clean. The floor never shines. It does in December.

Rain came in droves at the beginning of the week. It seemed more like it was March or April than December. The dock is underwater now, the river has risen so high. I went for a run after the rain calmed down, and I heard the creek rushing long before I could see it. It was like a mountain stream, very powerful, bubbling and pouring over the land. I was very tempted to forget about my run, roll up my pants and see what it felt like. The creek water is very cold, even in the heat of July, but it's not as terrible as you might think during the milder cold days. I certainly would not get in if it was in the 30s outside, but I don't mind getting crazy every now and then and taking a swim when it's in the 50s.

I remember two years ago, when the floods came that spring. I finished a retreat and wanted to see the water and experience it. I took a video camera, set it up on the bridge over the creek, and got in, taping the fun I was having. The water was so powerful, so loud. I had never felt our creek like that. It was a struggle to walk upstream. I let myself sit in the water, and the current carried me down, as if I was in a river. If you catch it at the right time, anything can have great power. That trickling water that hardly reaches your calf muscle most days, on its strongest days, picks up logs and moves rocks. It can carry you too.

As I type this, it is 4:23, and the sun has already retreated behind the ridges that surround the camp. The sky has a light orange tinge to it, and it will be dark very soon. The moon has been full this week, and you need very little light to walk outside because of it. All the leaves that are to fall this year have fallen. It is cold outside, and, on some nights, you can go outside and feel like you are completely alone. You walk through those woods that you know so well by daylight, when you can hear songbirds and squirrels. On this night, though, there is almost no sound. The moonlight turns it into a completely different place. You walk out into it, and it feels almost as if this night is completely yours, made just for you to see and feel. Love it as if it is. The truth is that it belongs to all of us. But, you are the only one out there right now, so you better give it all the love you can.

We hope you find some peace during this season. Don't worry. Christ is coming.

This week at Lakeshore 11/27-12/3

2011-12-05T15:57:00.001-06:00

Snow came to the shore early this week, followed by sunshine and moderate temperatures. Nature is playing with our emotions. It is funny to see all the comments that inevitably show up due to weather like this. Some love the snow, some hate it. Some have only to stay home on this particular day and enjoy it from the window. Others must drive through it and deal with the wet socks that may follow. Children rejoice, hoping that they might get an extra reprieve from school to go with the Thanksgiving break. Others question their sanity and wonder what is happening in a world of snow in Tennessee in November. It's funny how a little slushy snow on the ground can bring out such a variety of emotions. Quite a polarizing issue (See what I did there?).

Vickie had to break up a fight early this week over food. It was snake feeding day, and one of our corn snakes seemed to want both mice to itself. Vickie found them wrapped around each other striking for the mouse that one had already begun to swallow. Try to wrap your head around this image for just a second. Vickie, of course, did not want to let them keep fighting, but also did not want to get in the middle of a snake fight, so she had to have her wits about her. She grabbed two pencils and proceeded to separate the snakes as if she was chop-sticking some Lo Mein off the Chinese buffet. She managed to pry them apart, and, as far as we can tell, they've made their peace and are using each other for warmth again, as was the case before the mice entered the picture.

There are many things that have divided living things since the beginning of time. Sometimes, you're just afraid, and it's easier to protect yourself than others. Adam certainly knew that as he threw Eve under the bus for the whole tree of knowledge thing. Or maybe you look over at your neighbor and you see that they have something you want for yourself, and you want it so bad, you don't mind hurting them to get it. Just ask our corn snakes about that. There are so many more reasons for us to turn on each other, and we watch it happen every day.

Earlier this week, the staff was at the Conference Center decorating for Christmas and Culture Day, and I had to take my dog, Digby, out for a bathroom break. I heard a bird sound that was not as typical as the rest, and I knew what it was. I looked up to the sky and did not see it for a moment, but then my eyes fixed on two eagles circling in the sky together. I called Vickie out, and we watched from the flower bed. The birds flew in a circle, and stayed in the opening of the tree canopy right above the parking lot. They were up hundreds of feet above us, gliding with such ease together. Their eyesight is about 4 times better than ours, so I'm sure they could see us so impressed by them.

We have been decorating the Conference Center for our annual Christmas and Culture Day. So, for an entire week it has been like that day your family drags out the boxes from the attic and unpacks all the ornaments, only on a much larger scale. Our culture this year is Mexico, so we have been placing poinsettias and pinatas, listening to mariachi, and preparing tamales while getting into the Christmas spirit.

Towards the end of each day, the sun has set around 4:30pm, as we are trying to wrap up our decorating. We will walk to the sunroom together and look out over the river to see the sky turned orange, pink, and purple. The river reflects these colors, and so all but the trees surrounding our windows seem to be bathed in these colors as light leaves us for another day. When you stand there with your co-workers, still for the moment, admiring the beauty that God can conjure up in a few early evening moments, it gives you some hope that those divisive things that will inevitably creep into our lives are not enough to counteract moments like these. We know there will be times that we are hurt or scared or hungry, and that we may lash out to one another, because we are weak. But, during this time of reflection, I hope those moments are balanced by the moments we fly high in the sky together in circles--in that sky so beautiful lit up by a light that gives life to us all.

After our Christmas and Culture Day celebration, Lakeshore will go into hibernation for a few weeks. We will be working to get things ready for the new year, including retreat and summer camp dates and a new website. We pray for you this holiday season.

This week at Lakeshore 11/20-26

2011-11-23T15:55:00.001-06:00

It has been a gloomy week at the camp, full of damp drizzles and gray skies. The Lakeshore Staff is preparing for rest--that time when everyone settles into homes or packs up the car to settle in at someone else's home. The turkey and dressing are in preparation, as we speak, but just for a little while longer, snuggle in that warm, soft corner of the house and listen to tales of turkeys past from Lakeshore.

I remember one day when I was out doing trail work alone, on a hillside just behind the Wilderness Camp, I began to hear a crow cawing. I had been working for several hours, with a pick axe, cutting out the side of a hill to make level terraces for the trail, and when you're alone for a while doing manual labor, you tend be willing to talk to about anything. I attempted to talk to the crow the best way I knew how--by owl call. This is not completely insane--I'd heard from a turkey hunter that owls, crows, and turkeys tend to exchange calls. I don't know if this is because they like each other or really don't like each other or can't tell the difference between calls, but it works. The crow answered me back. I called again, and then I heard an owl answer me back. Then another owl. Then I began to hear turkeys. Though, the owls can make some pretty crazy noises when they get worked up, the turkey is the most amusing to me. When you hear a turkey gobble, you almost wonder if it is fake, because it's so strange and comical. It's hard to imagine any living organism making this noise and expecting to be taken seriously. These birds are clearly worked up over something though, and it was, in this case I guess, all those other stinkin' birds disrupting his peace and quiet. I was astounded by the response I got from my owl calls, so I kept making them. The owls joined in louder and more frequent. The turkeys got riled up even more, and the crows are never ones to quieten down. Before long, they were all talking at the same time. It was like they were arguing or singing or trading stocks. I was so amused by this, and then I heard the screech of a new bird and saw a huge raptor flying through the sky. My memory doesn't serve me well enough to remember if it was a hawk or an eagle, but for wow factor, I'll say it was an eagle, the biggest bald eagle I'd ever seen. It screeched again, and very quickly, the crows, owls, and turkeys went back to silence.

One weekend, in the summer of '99, several of my friends and I decided to relax at the end of a long camp week by shooting archery. Jason, Scott, and I rode out to the Tent and Trailer area towards the archery range, and as we passed the Mudvolleyball court, we noticed a turkey trotting back towards the woods. I was sitting in the back seat of the car, and I made one of those suggestions that you make to be funny, because you know it's so stupid no one will take you seriously: "It would be awesome if you followed the turkey and shot it with the bow and arrow." I waited for everyone to laugh at my joke, but instead, they responded with, "Let's do it!" So, we grabbed a bow and several arrows and attempted to make a connection with our more primitive, hunter-gatherer selves.

There were many flaws in this plan--first of all, the 3 of us probably had about 5 hours total shared hunting/tracking experience. Never mind the fact that the arrows were target arrows with blunt tips and our bows probably didn't have the strength to break skin, much less kill a turkey. I don't think any of us really thought we were good enough to actually hit the turkey, so these considerations really weren't all that consequential. We picked up the turkey's trail, and began following him with the best tactics we had witnessed from TV and movies. We tried to signal rather than talk, take steps at the same time and ducked down low with our arrows pointed to the ground, but ready to pull up and aim at any time. We named the turkey as Tyrone for the obvious alliteration. Every now and then, we'd close enough to fire a shot which would sail many yards over his head or in the ground in front of him. We probably damaged several trees during the hunt, but Tyrone the Turkey escaped unscathed.

Not everyone was so lucky, though. By the beginning of next week's camp, Scott came down with terrible rashes all over his feet, hands, and face. They blistered and began to puss up. He had to wear gloves for a time, so that he didn't spread it to other parts of his body. During our hunt, Scott was unaware that we were being led through patches of poison ivy during our futile hunt. To add insult to injury, the next time we gathered for camp at the Tent and Trailer Pavilion, there was a single gray turkey feather left in plain view. Tyrone had got the last laugh.

Turkeys, they say are very intelligent birds. They are much more intelligent than owls, who tend to get the credit for wisdom just on looks alone. They are among the most difficult animals to hunt (just ask Scott), and you rarely see them roadkilled on the highway. Ben Franklin encouraged us to make it our national bird, so just imagine how that might have affected your Thanksgiving dinner. Would we be carving a Bald Eagle now instead? These are questions that will never be answered.

I remember setting out on one of our recent backpacking trips. We had a lot of young, inexperienced backpackers, and when that is the case, you never really know how it's going to turn out. We set off down the gravel road on en route to the forest, and in front of us, crossed a pack of Wild Turkey, probably 10 or 12 of them. They waddled into the woods, and we were all excited by the sight of them. Then, finding a good luck charm, I knew that we were in for a good trip.

So, enjoy your turkey this holiday that likely came from a store that came from a turkey farm somewhere. But, smile when you think of the turkeys living free in the woods behind Pilots Knob Road. They are as happy as you and I. And, oh yes, they can fly. They can fly high.

Our thoughts and prayers are with you this Thanksgiving, whether you're traveling thousands of miles or never stepping out the front door. May we realize all God's blessings in our lives this weekend.

Help Lakeshore when you Christmas shop

2011-11-22T16:26:00.001-06:00

This year, when you do your online shopping for all those Christmas gifts, take just a few extra steps, and Lakeshore will get a portion of your purchase.

Just go to www.goodshop.com before you go to your shopping site, put Lakeshore United Methodist Assembly in as your charity of choice, then click on the shopping icon from goodshop's list for your store. Goodshop will direct you to your site, and then you just shop like normal. They are connected with just about every place you would shop at online. A percentage of that purchase will go to Lakeshore.

It takes just a few extra seconds, and your efforts will send some kids to camp next summer.

This week at Lakeshore 11/13-19

2011-11-21T15:05:00.001-06:00

This week storms swept through to compete with what we might see in early spring. A steady drizzle settled in at the shore that lasted most of a day, bringing with it heavy winds and a very indecisive thermometer. These late fall rains are very dreary. We are already dealing with darkness from 4:30pm on, but you add in that gray texture in the sky that seems to soak into everything, and you just have melancholy waiting to happen.

Monte, one of the camp snakes, has been curling up in his water bowl frequently as of late. This is an interesting change from his typical position under the hollow, plastic rock. Snakes do not normally exert a lot of energy, but Monte surely is even lazier than your average snake. Many times, I have thought he might be dead, only to find that he is just really, really comfortable. When you feed Monte his monthly rat, he spends a great deal of time next to, just looking it over. I wonder if this type of behavior would be tolerated in the wild. Most of the time to get Monte to eat the rat, we have to make it move around a little bit. Maybe Monte just needs more excitement in his life.

About mid-week, the rain and winds settled down, and I began shooting new footage for the Counselor Training videos. I've used videos in Counselor Training sessions as long as I've been doing it, but occasionally you decide that you need a change. The current videos were a little too long and had too many editing mistakes that stuck out to me everytime the video showed. So, this week, I went out with a camera to improve on my films. These films are made with action figures and dolls by stop motion animation, mostly. This is a time-consuming form that is the same thing used in the original King-Kong all the way up to Claymation. You take something, shoot a split second worth of footage, pause, move the character just a little, then shoot again, repeating the process over and over and over. The end result (if all goes correctly) is a movie where inanimate objects look to be moving.

I shot these films all over the camp, so I can only imagine what some of the staff thought as they passed through and saw me with a set of dolls and a camera, seemingly talking to myself in different voices. One big scene what filmed on the dock down at the Waterfront. It was a sunny day with a slight breeze. Just beside me were a group of coots, enjoying the day. These are strange looking ducks that are very dark, for the most part (even their eyes are black), with white beaks. The only thing you can really make out on their bodies are the beaks. It was nice, being outside, filming action figures on the dock, and having the coots nearby to watch when the wind would get so strong it would mess up the sound recording. They swam around, cooing, diving every now and then, tucking their beaks under their wings from time to time. I'm not sure what they thought about my show, but I certainly enjoyed theirs.

After some computer frustrations the movies were finished in time for Counselor Training. It is funny the way stop motion works. You must have a vision in mind to stay with it. It certainly doesn't look like the end product while you are filming, only making minor adjustments gradually. You can be too impatient with the process. You also can't take too long with it either. Then you pull up your video and watch these things come to life. Motion is such an amazing thing to think about. I move to make these words appear on this screen. The wind moves and pushes the leaves off our trees, stripping them bare for the winter. We move from bed and to bed every day, and in between decide what movements are important. Even when we are still, there is still movement within us. In fact, when we are at our most still, God is often the most free to move. May we find both stillness and movement in our day.

This week, we welcome our Scrapbooking Retreat, Counselor Training, Whitehall Baptist Youth, FaithPointe Church Youth, and Boyscout Troop 75 will be with us this weekend.

This week at Lakeshore 11/6-12

2011-11-14T14:27:00.000-06:00

This week, the beauty of fall colors began to give way to leaves freed from the trees to fly and land under our feet. The branches of the trees are getting closer and closer to bare. Temperature bounce all over the thermometer, so you must pay attention to the forecast, or you may find yourself sweating or shivering depending on the day. Crispy brown, crinkled leaves are everywhere you look, and the wind tosses them from one end of the yard to the other and back again. Justin was trying to herd the leaves off the parking lot at the Conference Center before the weekend group arrived. He'd get the grassy areas clear, and the wind would pick up, sending a whole different group of leaves into the spot he just cleaned. Then it sent his pile across the parking lot in a new direction.

You can find yourself sinking into piles of leaves, if you aren't careful. One leaf on its on is not so tricky, but hundreds and thousands can be very deceptive. It's like thousands of banana peals lying in wait for you, and then the wind shifts to place them in a whole new configuration. Who has really ever slipped on a banana peal? I don't think I've ever seen it happen. But, I have nearly slipped on multiple occasions this week while walking down a hill littered by leaves. It is amazing the sheer volume of leaves that get dropped in just a 3 week period. This will be a whole different world, because the trees let go of their leaves.

One afternoon, Dian answered the phone to find Travis on the other end. He requested some back-up at the Oxley Cabin in the form of a shovel or hoe. Travis was at the cabin, winterizing it, before the first freeze, when he noticed a snake wrapped around the pole of the spiral staircase. Based on the initial phone conversation, we were under the impression that Travis was trapped at Oxley, and the snake in question was originally a copperhead. We envisioned a snake just outside the door, coiled up, ready to strike if he opened the door. By the time they came back, it looked to be a black rat snake, who, due to the cool temperatures, was barely moving. You draw your own conclusions, but a venomous copperhead, 7 feet long, 6 inches in diameter, which 2 inch fangs, striking at the window is how I like it envision it.

This week, we also had a milestone day, especially for couples planning weddings and movie releases. We, after 100 years of waiting, reached 11/11/11. As a teenager, somewhere I picked up the practice of making a wish everytime I saw 11:11 on a clock. So, imagine the type of wish mojo you might have if you made a wish at 11:11 on 11/11/11. It is akin to making a wish at 12:34 when we make it to 1/2/34. It's fun to make note of these occurrences, but there's nothing really pre-ordained about this those numbers on the calendar. We did, after all, come up with the calendar, and, even though it's based on Jesus' birth, most scholars agree, that we were probably off by a little. And then, for a long time, different places started the year at different times. Some started at Christmas, some at Easter, so on and so on, so you have different areas in different years, depending on what time it was.

In the end, the numbers help us keep up with things, but we did decide when to start counting. For every system we use to count there are millions and billions of other ways to count. How many times the earth goes around the sun, how times the leaves have fallen from the trees, how many times the ducks have returned to the river beside Lakeshore, how many times that large, bright yellow moon has risen up over the water, or how many times we have again woken, our eyes opening, heart beating, taking life-giving air into our lungs.

This weekend we have the United Methodist Women, Alpha Sigma Phi from Murray State, and the Shanklin Family visiting us. This week, may God show you many fantastic things.

This week at Lakeshore 10/30-11/5

2011-11-04T16:01:00.000-05:00

It has been a drab, dreary week at the shore. Right now, the skies are gray, and there is a dampness surrounding everything. We've had the type of rain that doesn't necessarily come down in great quantity, but that seems to soak to the core of everything. If you go out walking, your shoes are liable to come back wet and your pants legs are probably going to be in the same boat. Days like these make you long for soup and a warm drink. They make you want to stay under a blanket, no matter where you are.

This week we didn't have too many guests--the October retreat season rush is giving way to the November cool down. With Halloween, All Saints Day this week, and this gloomy weather, you can't help but think of all those stories you heard and told here at camp. Maybe you were sitting around the camp fire, late one night when a fog rose off the lake on the dark night of a new moon. Maybe, you were hidden under a sheet with a few friends and a flashlight. Maybe you and a friend were walking back to your cabin, when the creatures of the night began to come out of their dens. Some of the scariest stories I know were told to me in a Lakeshore cabin, late night, when a group of boys couldn't go to sleep. The stories didn't help.

The most famous Lakeshore ghost is Johnny Lakeshore. There are many incarnations of this story, but most of the stories I've heard center around a former maintenance worker, of course, named Johnny. In life, Johnny was a pretty crabby old guy, and the kids had a lot of fun tormenting him behind his back, because of his reactions. On a very fateful day, Johnny was mowing the lawn on the side of the hill when some mischievous boys decided to throw rocks at Johnny as he came by. At first, Johnny thought it was a mosquito and kept slapping his neck to the amusement of the boys. But, finally he figured out what was happening. Johnny turned to yell at the boys, but being on the side of the hill, he lost balance and rolled with the lawn mower down the big hill. The lawn mower landed on top of the poor maintenance man, and I will spare you the gruesome details of what it did. The boys ran as quickly as they could back to their cabin, hoping no one had seen their part in Johnny's terrible death.

Later that night, the boys couldn't sleep at all, because they couldn't get the terrible images out of their minds. The rest of the cabin was sound asleep, but the boys could not help but hear every noise. They sunk deeper and deeper under their covers every time they heard a sound. There were noises on the roof, under the floor, and in the walls. The windows began to rattle. No one in the cabin woke up. The boys told their counselor the next day, but the counselor told them to "be a man," and not be so scared of the dark. The next morning, the counselor woke to find two boys missing from from the cabin. There was no signs of them left, but rake and a shovel rested on the cabin walls right next to the door. Word has it the Johnny Lakeshore comes back on dark summer nights, taking campers who will not go to sleep somewhere no one has ever escaped to tell about.

In the spot where the Calhoun and Hopper lodges now stand, there used to be a hillside of trees that was mostly unused. Several camp dogs were buried there years ago, including Jake, a yellow lab. When they began building the lodges, they cut down all the trees there, bulldozed, and dug into the side of the hill. On full moons, I've heard guests in Calhoun and Hopper complain about hearing a dog howling and barking for hours on end, for stretches of time that no dog should be able to sustain--no living dog, that is. No one has ever seen, definitively, a yellow lab in Calhoun or Hopper, though some have wondered if that shadow that moved in the bottom floor may have been old Jake looking for a new resting place because his old one was disturbed.

More often than not, though, our scariest ghost stories go like one evening when I was setting up worship in the Tabernacle. It was a very dark night, and I was going alone to set up the worship. I had to cross the entire Tabernacle in the dark to get to the light switch, and I began to freak myself out over what might be in there waiting for me that I wouldn't see until it was too late. I reassured myself, giving myself a pep talk to be a man, trying to be brave and strong. Finally I resolved that I wouldn't be scared, that I would take on anything that came after me. There was no reason to be afraid. After all, I was a man, and there wasn't even anything in there anyway. I sped up my pace, no feeling very courageous, when, out of the darkness, something hit me square between the eyes with so much force that I saw stars. I staggered backwards, half scared, half in intense pain, wondering what hit me, when I realized what had happened. I had ran right into one of the support poles. Right between the eyes.

May your nights be safe and warm this week. Snuggle up in a blanket, sip on a warm drink, and watch the leaves fall from your window. This weekend we have a Conference wide youth retreat, a painting class, and a small group of campers at our tent and trailer site. Till next week...

This week at Lakeshore 10/23-29

2011-10-28T11:10:00.000-05:00

Brilliant colors came to full maturity this week at Lakeshore. You can look out your window and see green, orange, brown, yellow, and red painting the forest from the tops of our hills. This is the time of year that you love to go out for a drive, especially through those stretches of roads where lines of trees have been strategically planted in rows. The branches stretch overhead and drop their leaves on you like a ticker-tape parade, home from the war that is finally over.

The temperatures continue to fluctuate all over the thermometer, tricking you into thinking of one thing, then turning over again when you get comfortable. You might have already put your shorts into storage, oh oh, but wait, we're going to get up to 80 degrees today. No, no, there's just a high of 57 today--get that long sleeve pullover fleece back out.

West Tennessee Camp Bluebird came for their fall visit, and this year their theme was an old fashion Christmas. So, my holidays were about mixed up as they are if you walk into a Wal-Mart this time of year. On one hand, I know that Halloween is just days away, but every time I walk up to the Conference Center, I see colored lights decorating the gazebo and walkway, blow-up Santas, and snow flakes. It's as if I've been warped into some kind of holiday world where they all co-exist at the same time. Before you know it, I'm going to be having lunch with a bunny on one side of me and a groundhog on the other.

This time of year, though, is really a marathon of holidays, and I guess it makes sense. It begins to get cooler, the nights get shorter, and we don't really know what to do with ourselves for a little while. You bundle up, you seek shelter in your home, but after a while you don't know what to do with yourself. By January and February you'll be used to this, but you miss light--you miss people. There's all the food that's just been put back, there's less work to do (for some of us)--why shouldn't we get together? Let's celebrate the scary little mysteries in our lives, let's celebrate the blessings that have come to us, let's celebrate the light that we know will return to our world.

Dian received a call about the middle of the week asking us if we were missing a canoe. There hadn't been one missing from the beach that we knew of. But, this man said that he thought he had one of Lakeshore's canoes. What's more, he found it in Springville bottoms, nearly 40 minutes from camp. This is a canoe that we lost 2 years ago in the big flood of 2010. The canoes were tied down, but one escaped under so much water and floated out of our lives, we though, forever. As time went on, we have come upon picnic tables and other canoes that drifted into the small inlets of the river and rested there, but we assumed they had all been claimed by other people. Then, a guy out walking in the bottoms far away, where water has receded for the winter, stumbles upon a boat with our name on it. And, now it's coming home.

This weekend he are hosting Covenant UMC youth and Jackson First UMC confirmation. May we all enjoy the colors that are surrounding us during this time.

This week at Lakeshore 10/16-22

2011-10-21T16:32:00.000-05:00

Though Winter is certainly not here yet, it went ahead and sent notice that is was on its way. With wind and rain, the temperatures plummeted. One night our low was 59 degrees, the next day, it was the high. The sky was gray, and you felt a chill through your body, since you are about 6 months removed from temperatures like that. In several months, days like these will be a call to put on short sleeves, but now it is a temptation to pull the sweatpants out. Justin had finished a day of carrying off fallen tree branches, and he and I talked about how complaining and weather go hand in hand. He said, "If it's hot we can't wait for it to get cold, if it's cold we can't wait for it to get hot. We just can't be happy can we?"

Birds are flying from tree to tree in droves this week. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of birds bounce from tree to tree. I don't know enough about them to have any idea what they are doing, but I assume this is a stop off as they journey to some place warmer. When they move, they move as one thing. It is a fast moving cloud that changes shape, settles into a tree, then later lights onto the next canopy. I wonder if it was scenes like this that inspired Hitchcock to come up with The Birds.

Corky was cleaning out a rooftop gutter that had a great deal of pine needles, when he discovered a garter snake sleeping in the stuff he was cleaning out. Jim said, "you aren't about to pick that up are you?" Corky said, "Well yeah, of course I am." Cork brought the snake over to the office to show the staff. With it being so cold outside, the snake was very mellow. Garter snakes, though harmless, can be pretty aggressive on a hot summer day. This one, was as mellow as one of the tame, camp snakes. Gary picked him up and brought him around to show off. Dian, not expecting to see a snake that day, jumped out of her seat and ran into my office. She still new and hasn't completely grown comfortable with the fact that you are bound to see just about any type of animal at any given time in this office.

Women's Emmaus came in last night to begin a 3 day, 4 night retreat that is almost certain to be a huge deal in the faith of some of the participants. It is such an undertaking. So many people are involved from the more mundane tasks to speaking to praying. It is pretty amazing to see the amount of coordination and the number of people involved in one of these retreats. Also, the sheer amount of food that is put away is pretty amazing as well. After making a post office run, I came in to find the staff with samples from the Emmaus snack table. There were sausage balls, cheese squares, crackers, pretzils, nuts, and nutter butter sandwich cookies with white frosting and two M & M eyeballs to make them look like ghosts. Ah, the perks of camp staff.

At the beginning of the week, I looked out my window and noticed something strange on one of the powerline poles. There was something hanging from it. As I looked closer, I realized it was the fuzzy tail of a squirrel. This squirrel was not moving, though. It feel victim to something you don't see too often--getting stuck to a powerline, doomed to fry. Normally, it seems, the squirrels that come into fatal contact with a power line just get blasted off to the ground. This squirrel must have bit the line and got hung on it. He just stood there. It was as if time had been stopped. I waited for him to move, but he did not. In fact, he stayed there for days in the same position. He almost certainly died instantly, but in what must be a pretty embarrasing memorial, he was frozen in the fateful position that ended his life for many to see. I called Vickie over to my window to see it. Before long, the whole office staff had gone outside and gathered under the pole to get a better look. This qualifies as entertainment for a camp staff.

This weekend keep the Women of the Emmaus walk in your prayers. And, if you were wondering, the squirrel somehow got off the powerline between Thursday and Friday. Not sure how, though.

This week at Lakeshore 10/9-15

2011-10-14T16:45:00.000-05:00

If you have not spent some of your time this week with the windows open, you have committed crimes against nature. There is no formal punishment for this offense currently in the U.S., but if you are guilty, you should stop reading this post immediately, throw open the doors, crack those windows, and feel that breeze that cannot be recreated no matter how nice your AC unit.

This week, Lakeshore's Program Committee met for the big annual program planning retreat. This is a marathon of a meeting that began Tuesday morning and ended Wednesday just before lunch. We cover all the major issues involving the camp program from summer camp to retreat season, budgets and costs to curriculum, rules to games. It's certainly exciting discussing everything that will happen in the course of the next year at Lakeshore, but sitting around a table discussing pretty much anything will wear on a person after 24 hours. The most pleasant parts of the meeting were certainly the times to visit and catch up with each other. Just before lunch, a group of us: Vickie, Paul and Barb Mullikin, Billy Cochran, Amanda Lough, and myself walked the Oxley Trail to take a look at the recent work that's been completed at the cabin. The floods and heavy winds have done their damage on the Oxley Trail. Trash littered the low spots, huge tops of the trees lay across stretches, and we had to do a little ducking and climbing to make it there.

The water level has dropped a great deal on the shore. It's nearing that point where you can walk out to the islands near-by. Though it's dry ground, it's really not all that dry. Bill Walker, our Development Officer has been walking the shore line early in the morning to look for driftwood he can fashion into crafts--part of his campaign to reclaim and reconnect. Bill finds items most people consider trash and turns them into beautiful decorations. It's amazing to see such transformations. On the shorelines Bill explores, the ground takes a long time to dry. It has, after all, been underwater for about 6 months. Bill has stepped into patches of mud and sunk almost to his knees in mud. He has become stuck so bad, that he's lost two pairs of shoes. You set out like any other day, never suspecting to come back barefooted. Then, you take a wrong step and find yourself surrounded by mud. You have to tell those shoes goodbye or you would have to spend the rest of your days standing on a shoreline with the blue heron.

These days if you go out walking, leaves will swirl all around you like large, colorful snowflakes. The breeze tosses the trees around, and the grip on those leaves are not very tight. They fall, catch a breeze and fly horizontally through the sky. You hear the rattle of the branches, you hear the crunch under your feet. You are surrounded. Turn, spin if you want to. You'll see color floating in all directions. Your eyes will open a little wider, your breaths are a little deeper. These are the days we hope for year-round.

This weekend, we welcome Hilldale UMC Youth, Whitehouse UMC Youth, Beech Bluff/Mt. Pleasand UMC, and Jacob Ross. May we all enjoy this time as well as it deserves. God bless.

This week at Lakeshore 10/2-8

2011-10-14T10:48:00.001-05:00

My apologies for the late post. I promise that everything I recount for this week is at least as accurate as any other week. We woke to heavy fogs most of the mornings of this week. I love the mysterious feeling in the air of a fog. Those eyes you depend so much on are powerless against it, and you must settle just to see less. Who knows what could emerge from the fog just beyond your sight? A deer? An eagle? Someone else. The tall trees come up out of the fog, reaching through it, but you are less sure what lies at their trunk. It is a completely new world to walk through, even to the resident.

Memphis Conference Retired Pastors paid us a visit this week. It is such a joy to set around the table and soak up all the stories and knowledge that is passed around by this group in conversation. So often with the practicing clergy, you hear talk of theology and politics, what should be done at the next Annual Conference, etc: topics important for us to be mindful of, for sure. But, there is something much more relaxing about setting with the pastors who do not have to worry quite so much about these matters anymore, recalling the greatest stories of their lives. I talked with the Calhouns about their trip to Israel and Egypt. Pat told me about seeing the Pyramids and the Valley of the Kings. Jim joked that after-all, Pat was around when they were built. I'm not sure where Jim was forced to sleet that night, but we got a good laugh from it.

On my runs, of late, I've noticed many more deer out along the road, grazing. We are in the very early days of the deer mating season, and you see so many more. They are also beginning to change colors from a bright gold brown to a grayer, dusty brown. While running this week, I came upon a young buck, he had a rack of just barely four points. I stopped running just to watch him, and he looked up at me for a moment. After a while, when I had inched a little too close to him, he retreated for the woods. I stayed to watch him, though. He then turned and ran back in my direction, but veered in a different direction to cross the street towards those woods. I thought about how he, in deer time, must be a young guy, just out on his own, still figuring things out. I ran on.

One morning, I was walking up to the Conference Center for breakfast on the road below the Shanklin Hillside Cabin. I looked out from the hill to the shore and towards the river. A fog still stretched out across it. The sun had not been out long enough to shoo it away completely. The fog was such that you could not see the far shore. If you did not know it, you might believe that the river just went on forever, and no one could tell you different. I wanted to hop a canoe and paddle out into that mist. Though reason certainly said that I knew exactly what was on the other side (potentially a giant barge), I wanted to believe that this fog might be shielding something new to me.

As I look out over all these things, wondering all the questions that enter my mind each day, I think of what Paul said: "We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us! But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love." And, for now, that is enough.

This week at Lakeshore 9/25-10/1

2011-10-03T15:13:00.000-05:00

The cool evenings and warm afternoons of Fall have come to the Shore to stay for a little while. It is getting to the point where those of us who are stubbornly waiting to turn on the heat have been tested. A chill begins as soon as the sun passes behind the tall ridges to our west. You close the windows you had open in the warmth of 2 and 3 o'clock. You put on your thick socks and long sleeves. You snuggle on the coach with a loved one or a furry pet utilizing this ancient form of heating until you can't stand it any more. Those days are surely coming, but we can hold off just a little longer before we flip that switch and smell the dust burned off of the heating element--that tell-tale sign that you have turned the heat on for the first time.

These days make it a joy to work at camp. The daytime weather beckons you outside to feel the sunshine warm up the cool air left from the morning. You can hold onto your suntan just a little longer, if you make a point of going out on these sunny afternoons. Then the evening takes over, and it becomes the ideal camp fire temperature. It is cool enough that the fire is welcome, but not so cold that you feel the need to stand in the fire. This keeps you from that uncomfortable practice of having one side of your body almost flaming hot while the other is icy cold. You have to rotate periodically to thaw one end out and free the other from the heat. If you back up any, however, the wind makes you cold on both sides. This pirouette you have to do doesn't enter our nostalgic thoughts of camp fires too often. When you think of camp fires, you see yourself seated, maybe roasting a marshmallow, telling stories and singing songs.

It was a sad moment for all the staff earlier in the week, when we buried Miles, the camp dog. He had just been diagnosed with cancer and then been hit by a car. He hardly moved and looked to be in pain pretty constantly. We decided to put him down Tuesday. Travis dug the grave with the backhoe, and the whole staff gathered around the grave. We told stories. Several tears were shed, and we tossed dirt on top of our old friend. He is resting behind the tabernacle with Bailey and Shadow, the two dogs who basically raised him. There was a strong breeze that day, and you couldn't help but feel that the air around us knew that something was happening.

The Waterfront this week has been beautiful. There's something about that mixture of sun and wind that does great things for the looks of the river. The steady wind we've had keeps it moving, with blue waves cresting all over and the sun makes it sparkle with this crispness that makes you want to reach out and touch it. I was surprised one afternoon at the sight of some sort of diving duck out on the water. It was black with a long neck. It seemed to sneak up to the shore, then dove under water for what seemed like minutes. Then, he popped up out of the water many yards away, before diving back under. I never saw him again.

Forces of nature are sweeping through all around. The wind is changing. The nights are getting longer. Some guests are returning and others are leaving us. During some of these times when we stand out on the shores, we are reminded of so many things: the beauty, coolness, warmth, the fact that even we are visitors. These times ebb and flow like the river. Let's get out there sometime, so we can reach out and touch that beauty and not squander this day.

Lakeshore says goodbye to Miles

2011-09-27T15:51:00.002-05:00

Today, the camp said goodbye to a good friend. We gathered behind the Tabernacle and buried Miles, the camp dog, near his old friends, Shadow and Bailey. Miles was about 10 years old. He had started to really feel the affects of cancer and got hit by a car last week. It seemed that both of those were more than he could handle.

Miles became a camp dog when Vickie sighted him living in a ditch along that drive between Camden and Eva that the staff made daily for lunch. Miles was a little black puppy with giant feet then. Vickie said, not wanting to see a puppy starve everyday, that if he was there the next time they went by, she would pick him up. Sure enough, he was. Vickie said he was so excited when she stopped and motioned for him to get in the car. At that point, the Lawson's had three camp dogs, and certainly didn't need another. Vickie planned to drop him off at the animal shelter after a few days, but I decided after being around him a few days that I would take care of him. I named him after my favorite jazz musician, Miles Davis.

For the first few weeks, Miles stayed at my house on Mockingbird Hill, not spending much time at camp at all. But over Thanksgiving, I left him with Gary and Vickie. Those 4 days made Miles fall in love with Lakeshore. From then on, every time he came up to Mockingbird Hill, he didn't stay long before sneaking back to camp. Over time, he would become much more my dog only in name and on vet records. In his heart, I think, Miles belonged to the camp.

Though he started out small, we always knew Miles wouldn't stay that way. It wasn't too much longer before Miles was tipping the scales at 85 and even 95 pounds. As his body grew quickly, Miles' maturity took a little longer to catch up. He was an energetic child trapped in the body of a hulking adult. Miles pounced and chewed on Shadow and Bailey, who were pretty old and arthritic by that time, but they were very patient with them. He loved them both, and followed them everywhere they went.

Time went on, and Miles, himself became the old man of the camp. The new dogs would jump on and pester him like some kind of cosmic payback for those years when he was a puppy. Miles always handled it with the same good nature that his predecessors had. As long as he was able, Miles would follow Wilderness camp up each night. He knew that that meant he could beg for bacon or sausage the next morning. He was always well-loved and well-fed, especially during the summer.

During the fall, winter, and spring months, Miles would settle into a regular routine, demanding Gary and Vickie take him for a walk at the end of each day. Every afternoon, around 4:00pm, Miles, like clockwork, would begin nudging Gary and Vickie, letting them know it was time to go for a walk. Vickie when mentioning a walk, would be careful to spell it out, saying, "it's almost time for a W-A-L-K," like you do with preschool children. Miles figured this out even, and began to get excited upon the spelling of "walk." He began to make noises that I don't think I have words to accurately describe. I think if Miles had had the right vocal chords, he would have spoke as well as the rest of us in the office. He certainly tried. We got a great deal of amusement each afternoon, listening to Miles try desperately to tell us it was time for a walk. Gary and Vickie called him their personal trainer.

Miles was always a very vocal dog. Even, if he was just laying in the office, you would hear him making groaning noises. When you began to talk to him, he would just groan more and more. We even took him to the vet, to see Miles was groaning because of some kind of pain. The vet check him out all over and told us what amounted to, "it looks like he's just eccentric."

He most definitely was eccentric. He was a great companion and a wonderful representative of the camp. Miles did just as much work to make campers at home and realize the power of community as any of us. We will miss him greatly and be telling stories about him for years to come. Goodbye old friend.

This week at Lakeshore 9/18-24

2011-09-22T16:12:00.000-05:00

It's a great time to be outdoors at Lakeshore. The mornings and evenings are cool, and the days are warm. We can even manage the day or two of steady rain we got, because it isn't yet cold, and it isn't so muggy that rain just creates a jungle mist. Yes, even the rainy days are the types you look at nostalgically. They are the ones you imagine observing from a hammock on your porch. Nature is giving us plenty of indicators that the seasons are changing. You see more red in the canopies when you look out now. The Beech trees are dropping the beech nuts in their little spiny cases, and almost no one notices. If you do though, they can make a nice treat with a little salt.

The autumnal equinox takes place on Friday, and we will have equal dark and light. The sun will rise exactly in the east and set exactly west. At Machu Pichu and Stonehenge, you'll watch the sun line up perfectly with structures too old for us to get our heads around. The season of Fall begins for real, and we begin that march towards longer nights, colder temperatures, and fewer leaves. I looked up information this event, and one of the first statements was something to the effect of: "ancient people spent more time outside than we did." That's quite an understatement. I think about all the things that were much more common knowledge than they are these days like the stars and the seasons. The signs of weather and harvest. I would love to spend enough time outside to know these things. But, even as much as I love to be outdoors, I don't approach that much time. Maybe years and years of observation with get me there, but who knows.

Stephanie worked hard this week to replace the shower curtains in all the cabins. She was very excited to find a set of curtains with rock designs that you may find privacy behind if you shower in the Calhoun Lodge. Others are solid colors--I'm sure regardless of what your particular shower curtain taste is, they will be better than the ones they are replacing. Stephanie got the shower curtains in just in time for Middle Tennessee Camp Bluebird to arrive on Thursday. For the next four days, we'll get to host a special group of people. The actual bluebirds are still pretty evident too, if you look around. I would say they are probably heavy contenders for the most beautiful song birds we have around here. You notice the bright blue first, but then you notice the red breast color as well. You can identify a blue bird, even if you are the worst bird identifier in the world.

Yes, things are rolling right along. It seems like only a week or so ago, we were in the throws of summer, when we went as far out of balance towards longer days that we can possibly go. We are now back to being balanced, at least as far as light goes. Let's hope we can take it's lead and find balance in our lives too.

Keep our guests in your prayers, and keep our Friendship Dinner in Memphis, happening next week, on your hearts and minds.

This week at Lakeshore 9/11-17

2011-09-16T14:44:00.000-05:00

Rain returned to Lakeshore this week on the wings of a cold front that reminded us what it is to feel chilly. Though it has cooled since the summer, we were still, even in mid-September, working up a sweat during any outdoor work. The leaves have begun falling, acorns are dropping from the oaks, and yet the air conditioner still runs significantly. Whatever combination of these conditions it has been, something has kicked the allergies into high gear for me. I find myself doing the sneeze double-take, where you sneeze in quick succession. It's a wonder you can even breath after a steady string of sneezes like this. I used to think it was a made-up injury, when I'd read baseball reports about someone pulling their back after "violent sneezes." I still figure it is to cover up something they'd rather us not know about, but I am now open to the possibility of injury by sneeze being a real thing.

We hold out hope that the next change will bring relief for us. Maybe some rain to wash the pollen and dust away will stop these allergies. Maybe lower humidity will encourage me to exercise a little more. Once the temperature gets cooler, the ticks will disappear, and I will get outside and enjoy the outdoors more. When the changes come, we are often reminded what a mixed bag anything new can be. The rain came to Lakeshore Wednesday night, and it brought the thunder. Lightening struck very near to the camp. This was the type of lightening that has no break between the sight of it and the sound of thunder. You have seen the sky light up and heard the thunder umpteen times already, and you are still startled by the sheer power of this charge of electricity close-by. The lights went out on Mockingbird Hill for several hours, because a transformer blew up. We ate dinner by candle-light and got a taste of what evenings were like about 150 years ago. It was fine, there was nothing on TV anyway.

The next morning, we woke to breezes and cool temperatures. The days since have given us a taste of Fall on the way. The air conditioner kicks on much less these days, and you can hear the sounds outside through your window. This time is certainly exciting. Before long, we'll pull out the flannel sheets and don the long-sleeves. We'll build fires in the camp fireplace, sitting in rocking chairs, sipping on hot chocolate. We hope for those things, forgetting the allergies, the cold noses, and the rain that soaks us through our clothes. We focus on those things we cherish for tomorrow, sometimes gripping about the problems today. It is a nice distraction.

Our first Lakeshore Legacy Friendship Dinner was held Thursday night in Paducah. We worked hard to put together an event that would help raise funds for Lakeshore. Many kind, generous people came to hear our story and consider a gift to the camp. There was a pork tenderloin meal with these great rolls that had a bit of cheese and a pinch of something peppery. Bill Walker and his group "Fourth Day," sang Mo-town and some contemporary Christian songs. The evening was very heart-felt and many of our guests let us know that they appreciated being invited. There were a few comedic (now that they are in hind-sight) moments leading up to the event. A DVD was produced for the evening, and there was a little editing being done on it, so it had to be shipped to us. It was overnighted, but would not arrive until the day of the event. The camp staff waited around, hoping FedEx would come in the morning, but they didn't show. So, most of the staff left for Paducah, and Gary stayed to await the arrival of the package. Diane watched the Internet site to track the package, and discovered that the packaged was delivered at noon. She called Vickie, because she couldn't find it, and Vickie knew what had happened. The package was delivered to the parsonage, as often happens with first-time deliverers, because the camp and parsonage share addresses. Diane, after looking, still couldn't find the package, and then realized it had been delivered to Bill's home address in Jackson. Thankfully, one of the "Fourth Day," members hadn't left Jackson yet, and we had the DVD with plenty of time.

Now that it is passed, though, our memories rest more with the stories told that night. We watched teenagers from Broadway UMC, who had served the meal, get up and talk about how special Lakeshore was, and how when they went to Florida last year, rather than camp, they wished each day they were at Lakeshore. We'll remember how our eyes welled up a bit with tears and we choked up a bit hearing all these things that we who work here know so well, but still just get a hold on us, because they do mean that much. It doesn't matter hold old we get or how many times we hear it. We remember, and we hope for more.

This weekend we have the Memphis Conference Singles retreat and the Bethel University Bowling team. Keep us in your prayers, and we'll return the favor.

This week at Lakeshore 8/21-27

2011-08-26T17:33:00.000-05:00

If you look closely, here at camp, you can tell Fall is approaching, but there is still a ways to go. The Poplars have begun dropping their leaves, so if you are walking in the right place, you'll feel and hear that crunch under your feet that you haven't felt in many months. They aren't everywhere, though--it's not quite time to pull out the rakes. The nights have come along a little earlier in the evening, I've noticed, and the stars have been particularly beautiful. The nights are easy on the eyes, these days, and they are a little bit easier on the body. You can breathe like a normal human on most nights, a welcome change from the summer days.

The level of the river has begun to drop. Our canoe and kayak dock is pretty well on dry ground (well, the ground is still pretty wet, but there isn't any water on top of it), and that means that our larger dock may soon follow suit. The maintenance staff had to jump into action on Monday to get our motorized boats out of the water before they did their best beached whale act. When it comes to motor boats, we've discovered, nothing is ever a certainty. All that they really had to do was start up the boats, drive them to put-in spot where a trailer was waiting, just up river. Of course, one of boats did not start and had to be towed in.

We say, "you never really know what to expect," but, in truth, most of the time we do. In a given day, you have an idea of what you do, and usually you're not too far off. The trouble comes when we confuse what we know with what we want to happen. If that balance swings too far in the direction of thinking based on what you want, you're bound to be let down. Then on the other side, if you depend completely on what you already know, there's no room to dream.

It looks like the heat is going to hang around the shore a little bit longer. We hope for cooler temperatures and rain, but if we look at the calendar, we really know better. It will be warm longer. We will probably be without rain for a few more weeks. The world is shifting there, it is for sure, but it does it at it's own pace. Until then, we are left hoping and wishing, but reminding ourselves that God will act in his time as he sees fit. There is movement, though, it is in the air.

This weekend we have our Scrapbooking Retreat. Keep our guests in your prayers. Troy is leaving on vacation next week, so This Week at Lakeshore will take a two week break. Have no fear, though. We'll be back.

This week at Lakeshore 8/14-20

2011-08-19T21:35:00.000-05:00

This week at Lakeshore, we have had several days made for strolling. Maybe not so much the afternoon, when the sun has had a chance to work for several hours, but when you set out in the mornings and the evenings, it just feels so nice. You want to take a leisurely walk and survey the place. Look around and see what is new in this great world of ours. There's something about even the slightest of temperature change in the right directions that lifts the spirits a bit.

The Tulip Poplars, who are perpetually competing to be first among the trees, have begun to yellow, and you can sense a dryness coming to their canopies. Before long, they will be the first to drop their leaves on our ground, and you will hear the familiar crunch of their large, hat-shaped leaves under your feet. For now, though, there is just that hint of yellow among the green.

While waiting for our retreat groups, I noticed that the cicadas were droning on pretty heavy. We did not experience the cicadas the way we had heard--in the biblical plague proportions. We haven't seen the shells left from millions of large winged bugs molting and moving on. We missed out on everyone pranking each other by taking the cicada shells and sticking them in people hair. There have been traces--on occasional nights you'd hear the loud drone, and, if you look hard enough, you'll find a dead cicada along your path. I heard they were pretty fearsome in Memphis, but for whatever reason, they didn't show up in droves in Eva. Tonight, though, they sing like the last night of camp.

We have had some pretty beautiful sunsets at camp the past few days. Most of the pop-up storms on the forecast have missed us, but the fronts have brought in clouds. They are the clouds that look like cotton stretched out, mixed in with a few in-tact bundles. When the sun gets just beyond the horizon, the rays bounce off the clouds into purples, pinks, and oranges. It seems as if the rain, though, is avoiding us.

For now, we will take the light breeze the welcomes us out in the morning and evening time. Sure, Spring is your go-to season for the feelings of awakening, but there is a mini-stirring going on around here. The heat is wearing off a bit, and life seems a little less intense. It is good rocking chair weather. It is time to pause on your walk just to see or hear something that catches you. To stand there, taking in something new or old or both wrapped up into one thing. We'll remember things we forgot, learn things we started to a year ago. We'll stretch out our arms, take a deep breath, and open our eyes a little wider, smiling, ready to brave whatever we encounter in this world on this day.

This weekend we have Northside UMC Elementary and Dyersburg UMC Confirmation retreating with us. We hope you'll include their stay with us in your prayers. Enjoy this weekend. Get out and take a walk.

Lakeshore Honors Summer Wilderness Directors on it's new Advanced Map reading/Orienteering Course

2011-08-15T17:13:00.000-05:00

This summer Lakeshore added to its list of activities two Orienteering Courses. The Advanced Orienteering Course covers the forest west of Lakeshore's Wilderness Camp. There are 10 points to be found, and participants must use the map, compass, and visual landmarks to find each one. Every point has a unique hole punch there to collect, and each point is named after a former Summer Staff Wilderness Director. Participants get an adventure in the outdoors, a chance to see some of the most scenic parts of Lakeshore, and a history lesson of the Wilderness Camp Program. We are proud of this new course and all the names represented here.

This week at Lakeshore 8/7-13

2011-08-15T11:11:00.000-05:00

It is strange to me how even the weather seems to understand that summer camp ended. We didn't exactly wake up to frost on the ground this week, but it was noticeably cooler in our first week of what we call, "retreat season." The summer staff has left for college, and the quiet you would expect this far from the city is settling back into our lives. Each morning this past week, you step out your door in the morning to cool air and a slight breeze. These types of mornings make you a bit hopeful that we may pull out of these ridiculous summer temperatures in the foreseeable future. The outdoors is a much more inviting place, and you find yourself wanting to be outside a little more than you did last week when you felt like you'd need an oxygen tank just to sit outside in the shade. Yes, these are the mornings you long for in the heat of July. The temperatures climb higher as the day goes on, but you can hold onto hope that something quite pleasant is getting closer.

Early in the week, we had a visit from Union University's Women's Volleyball Team. A couple of our Summer Staffers, Tiffany Dowdy and Allison Doyle, stayed around to help lead this group in Team Building and our Climbing Tower. Tiffany commented on how much taller everyone was than she. I guess, especially after an entire summer of work with people younger than you, it's quite a change to send college athletes up the Climbing Tower. You're used to holding that 90 pound junior high camper on the belay line with ease. The can jump and swing around, and you hardly move at all. Then a week later, you brace yourself for someone your age who may weigh more than you. You are holding them up now, and that first time you catch them, you realize things are a bit different.

We have reached this time in the year again--a time of transition. Things are beginning to shift once more for us. Our college staff are finding themselves in a completely different world. The Lakeshore permanent staff is realizing that a 9-5 work day occasionally will happen now. We are deciding all over again what to do with spare time. Over the last weekend, we missed out on the storms that had been forecasted, but strong breezes blew through. Something changed in the air, and the colors looks sharper. The blues were bluer in the sky and river. The air felt fresher and not quite so humid. We went out in the evenings and were surprised by the air and the full moon. We longed to sit by the lake, see the moon beam across it, and listen to the water lap up against the steps of the waterfront. As the changes sneak in on us faster than we sometimes realize, we will hold onto some things from the summer of our choosing. But, we will smile to ourselves and breathe deep in thanks for some of the new.

Keep all those who have new transitions to make in your prayers.

This week at Lakeshore 7/24-30

2011-07-29T14:22:00.000-05:00

As I look out the windows of my office, I see a light drizzle out of the one facing west and blue skies from the one facing north. During these summer months, perspective can make a big difference in what you see. We are currently in our last week of summer camp. Today is that last full day that summer campers' laughs and silly songs will be heard when you walk the grounds. I went to Wilderness breakfast today, as I love to do on Fridays. The entree, as always, was BLTs. This Wilderness group was dragging when the wake-up call was sounded. It is a younger group, and a week of hiking, canoeing, and spending so much time in the heat has certainly slowed them down a little bit. They also got to go to the dance last night.

When I walked into the dance, I felt something a little strange--cool air. Normally the dance is a giant sweat box, and you find yourself going outside into the muggy, July air to cool yourself off. Imagine walking out into a 91 degree night and thinking, "what a relief." Last night, though, the air in that front room felt pretty inviting. We have a combined Elementary and Junior High week, and so this Junior High camp is a little smaller than the Junior Highs that typically attend the dance. There is more room to show off that dance move you've been working on in front of the mirror, become involved in the line dance you just learned, or just breathe like a normal human being. There are many options the night of the dance. There are the obvious ones: to dance or stand on the wall hoping for some kind of break-through. When you have been to hundreds of Lakeshore dances in your life, it's easy to forget all the feelings that might be going through any given junior high camper's mind. I loved to dance, and it was generally a surprise to people when a quiet kid like me would get out and do the M.C. Hammer when the first beat dropped. However, as soon as a slow song started, and all the young Casanovas started jockeying for the cutest of the junior high girls, all my confidence dwindled, and I made haste to the wall. Funny how even the tempo of a song can change your perspective.

And, here very soon, our staff will see the perspective of the campers they have told goodbye each Saturday for the past 10 or so weeks. They will also begin to come to grips with the idea of leaving this place and what that means to them. There is of course sadness about missing friends, about this great experience drawing to a close. There are the questions that can get a little scary. What will I do with myself now? Will I continue to find God as I have here? Then, there are also the exciting thoughts. All the new adventures. The rest that will finally come in the evening when you are only responsible for yourself at bedtime. There is the chance to take these lessons out into the world. So much tied in with perspective. And, as I look out my windows now, I see sunshine from both directions.

Pray for all our campers, our staff, and our upcoming retreat season.

This week at Lakeshore 7/17-23

2011-07-23T10:16:00.001-05:00

This week, a few things snuck up on us. The heat and humidity, surely has not. That heavy, wet air just hangs around like company that stays at the party a little too long. You can deal with it for a little while, but before too long it begins to wear on you. You go outside after some time indoors, and you feel like you're walking into something not wholly air. There is more to this mass that you step into. As a staff, we stepped into the realization that the summer camp is quickly approaching the end. There is one week, after this one, with campers, and there is then the staff work week. Afterwards, Lakeshore begins retreat season. A group of staffers and I had this discussion that inevitably comes up this time of year: We are entering the "this is the last..." time in our summer. You can look at so many things for the next 2 weeks and know they will be the last time you do them. Particularly for some of our staff who may not be returning next summer, this can bring up many nostalgic feelings. You don't really expect it. You kinda know it's lurking out there, but you have no idea how it will affect you until you step out the door into it, and it wraps its heavy self around you. You decide whether to try to walk through it and adjust to what it is doing to your lungs or retreat back into the comfort of the indoors.

On Thursday, what I can only guess was a new system of fronts moved in. It happened in the evening around supper time. I was at the pool, and the whistle had just been blown for campers to get out of the pool. As we dried off, the wind picked up and blew strong. We rushed to close the umbrellas around the pool, because they easily could have been blown off to be found by someone across the river. It was a nice relief to actually feel some air movement. I looked up in the sky to see if storm clouds were coming, because the air certainly felt like they were approaching. There were dark blue clouds to the north, but nothing seemed to be moving over us. As I followed a group of about 40 elementary kids with their beach towels and brightly colored bathing suits, I looked out across the river, and it was white-capping like an ocean or Great Lake. The water was moving so strong and crashing on the shore of the waterfront.

I had planned to walk up to the Conference Center to go to the dining hall for supper. But, then I got the urge to walk down to the waterfront and witness the movement of the air and water a little bit closer. It took some talking into, because I would certainly have to walk up the hill to get back for supper. But every now and then, we reach these points in ourselves where we know we must put in the extra work for something not so tangible. I walked down the concrete steps that I would retrace later to the dismay of my calf muscles. My dog and I walked out onto the beach and onto the camp's large dock and stepped to the edge, where if I positioned myself just right, I might feel like Peter stepping out onto rough and dangerous water. I felt the wind on my face. I was bounced on the dock by the water. I watched it pass me and come crashing against the concrete wall of our waterfront. I stood in the middle of the power of God--in the midst of the strength and danger and beauty, so strong and huge that I'll never understand it all. In that moment, despite the consequences and danger, I was happy to be where I was.

Pray for our staff as they do God's work very tired. Pray for the campers on their way very soon to our last week with summer campers. Pray for all those touched by the shooting in Norway, which happened at a youth camp.

This week at Lakeshore 7/3-9

2011-07-09T10:50:00.000-05:00

We have entered the dog days of summer. The ancient Greeks took notice that Sirius, the dog star, rose in the sky along with the sun during the 30ish day span, and they believed that it added extra heat to the already hot summer days. And, we have felt the warmth of the old dog star this week. I don't know if he also brings humidity, but that was here too.

Miles, the oldest camp dog, has had some health issues as of late. In his old age he has developed arthritis, and he has some digestive issues whose details I will skip for your sake. I remember when he was a lively puppy who terrorized the older camp dogs, jumping all over them, biting on their ears, and waking them up when all they wanted to do was take a nap in the yard. Now Miles is like a crotchety old man. He enjoys getting in the air conditioning, laying down (sometimes on his back) and passing out for longer than we can keep track of. There was a time when Miles would follow any group of campers he saw. He was a constant companion to the creek stompers. He would wade into the creek, lap up about a gallon of creek water, then get out and shake off enough water to give an elementary camper a good shower. Miles was a puppy trapped in a 95 pound lab mix's body. Now he rests on the cool concrete slab, and while the creek stompers wait for the rest of their group to arrive, he looks up with his dark eyes at them. They pet him and fawn over him, and I think he imagines taking another trip there to run neck and neck with the little campers. But, he has much fewer trips in him per day now, so he lets them scratch his thick black hair and relives the glory days from a comfortable spot.

Jock spends a great deal of his time hiding. He continues to confound everyone who meets him. Jock has lived at camp for years and years now, but he still does not feel comfortable being touched or petted unless he initiates it. Jock is not an aggressive dog, and he doesn't attack anyone. Fortunately for him, he is incredibly fast, so if he doesn't want you to touch him, you probably won't. Jock will follow the right people around. He seems to like the company, but something from his past just won't let him have human contact. It is a shame to most people, too, because Jock is a beautiful dog. He's a tall thin dog with a black coat, white on his paws, and giant green eyes. Everyone wants to pet him. There was a camper here who claimed that every dog liked her, and she could get any dog to let her pet him. She failed with Jock. But if you catch him on the right day and don't make a big fuss over him, you may be on your way down the road to wilderness camp or the creek. You will be looking down the road, enjoying the breeze, watching the trees sway back and forth. Then without notice, you will feel a soft nose, nuzzle up to your hand for just a moment. Don't be alarmed. Don't even act like you realize what's happening. Enjoy it, it won't last forever.

Lily is completely obsessed with Gary. Everywhere he goes, she follows. She knows his vehicle, and sometimes accidentally follows it when someone else drives it. If Gary leaves the camp, Lily will wait for him to come back, and if he doesn't return soon, she will howl, setting the rest of the dogs off to howl. She is a Weimaraner, and so many who visit comment on how pretty she is. She has a princess mentality, and expects to be petted if you are in arms reach. If you fail in this expectation, she will paw at your knee until you do pet her. If you see Lily walking around camp alone, you can figure she is in pursuit of Gary, wondering how he might have evaded her. A cabin of girls sees her, and they surround her. They pet her on the head, behind the ears, on her back, and looks up with her sad eyes, allowing them to pet her. It's not Gary, but for now, it'll do.

The newest dog to spend a lot of time at camp is my new dog, Digby. My wife and I got him from the Benton County Animal Shelter, and we believe he is a Cairn Terrier. It is the same breed as Toto from The Wizard of Oz. It seems that nearly everyone on earth is drawn to him. When you walk him up the hill you hear squeals from boys and girls alike, gawking over how cute he is. Digby is content to eat up all of this attention. He is easily distracted and often acts like he can't hear you calling him to come sit in your lap, but I think it just thrills him even more that someone is spending this much time on him. He loves for campers to chase him and run from him, so he can get out part of his endless supply of energy. If I unleashed him, he would sprint out onto the basketball court and play hardest of all (at least until he got stepped on). At the end of the day, Digby will find a place among the couches in the Library and lay down. I don't know if he realizes how lucky he is to have landed here (I wonder that about all of us), but I know he's enjoying it.

Pray for us and the dogs, as the dog days go on. We have 3 more weeks to enjoy campers with us day after day.

This week at Lakeshore 6/26-7/2

2011-07-01T21:21:00.000-05:00

On Monday morning of this week, there was quiet. Many of us were recovering from Senior High Camp with its late nights and high energy. The temperature was pretty mild for the end of June. We awaited the next camp peacefully and tentatively. Then, in the distance, there was a soft rumble. Our eyes and ears perked a bit. We looked around and, seeing nothing, returned to what we had been thinking. Then the rumble increased. Leaves began to fall in greater quantity. The squirrels looked up from acorn gathering, and ran to a place of safety. The rumbles became louder, and the ground began to vibrate. What we were hearing was the sound of over 250 campers closing in on the property.

Lakeshore has been filled this week, with lots and lots of camper, in particular elementary aged campers. We are also running a Youth Arts Camp, a Watersports Camp, and Camp Grace for victims of sexual abuse. This week has been loud. Attention spans have been lacking, a round of homesickness got passed among a few, and we've also had a surplus of scraped knees.

We hit the midway point of summer camp this week. It always blows the minds of our staff that we are in the middle already, but, sure enough, Wednesday marked the exact center. When I inform my staff of this, many react by putting their hands on their ears or telling me not to say that. They can't believe time is moving by so fast. They don't want time to move so quickly, even if they are worn out by 12 elementary campers constantly asking when the next swim time is. I use this point as motivation, to help them realize that it goes quickly, and there is no time to waste. I'm hoping it will be inspirational to help them challenge themselves now rather than later. It usually does more though to remind them how time is slipping away.

This week has really messed with the Watersports camp. For the first time I can remember, we received a call Wednesday morning from Flatwoods Canoe Base telling us the camp should not canoe the Buffalo, because the waters were too high. We have skipped the Buffalo River trip due to storms and even taken a shorter trip for many reasons, but it is rare that the river is too high to paddle--especially at the end of June. Normally, we are more worried about there being enough water to keep the canoes from scraping the bottom. So Watersports improvised their own canoe trip, paddling on Kentucky Lake to Eva Beach.

There has been a steady, light breeze rustling through the hills and trees this week. It has been hot, for sure, but when you sit out on hillside, it's no problem. You stare out over that river that is such a pretty dark blue these days and feel that breeze in your face. You can hear air shuffling the leaves over one another. There are sounds of kids playing in the distance. You might even catch a full conversation if you listen well enough. For sure, there is much going on this week, and it can be a bit overwhelming to try to take it all in if you aren't ready. But, if you sit still for a minute, take several deep breaths, then open your eyes and ears, you're bound to encounter something worth checking out.

I've spent enough time in the office this week, that my body tells me it doesn't want to get out. There's just too much going on out there. Too many kids, too much noise, and too many names to learn. If you take it all at once, you probably won't manage. Don't be afraid, though. Set out into that wilderness of children. You're liable to a grove you want sit in for a while. I'm glad I got out enough this week to explore that vast wilderness.

Be in prayer for all our camps this week. We're over half way, believe it or not.

This week at Lakeshore 6/19-25

2011-06-25T10:26:00.001-05:00

To begin, let me apologize for standing you readers up last week. Due to a last minute elbow dislocation, we had to shuffle leaders for our backpacking camp, and I ended up being the one to lead it. Blog writing becomes more complicated when on your typical writing day, you are deep in the woods. But, I have returned to civilization (relatively speaking), and we welcomed Senior High and our first Fishing Camp, along with Treehouse and Camp Peace.

In yet another strange turn in our weather, this week has actually been pretty mild by late June standards. In the evenings, the wind will pick up, and you will even notice temperatures dipping into the 60s if you are paying close enough attention. This is the summer we longed for over the past few years. So, I always feel that we are a touch spoiled when people come in during this week complaining about the heat. Sure, you break a sweat out there, but don't you remember last year? You couldn't breathe.

Senior High campers are full of contradictions in this way. Among them are some of the most athletic, outdoorsy campers we will see all summer. There are campers here that have the ability to beat us in just about every sport. Yet, when these campers decide they want to be indoors, hanging out, there is no convincing them otherwise. And, in all the things they have learned to do better, complaining is something they have taken to the next level. You know that immediate reaction to something they don't wish to do. It could be the greatest thing you've ever planned. Some new adventure that has the potential to change lives. You are excited about this, but it requires going outside, possibly a little vulnerability. You pitch the idea, then the reaction comes. Groans that are somehow under the breath enough that you can't connect them back to the groaner. The eyes get wide so that when they roll them, it will be more pronounce. Then you watch them lean over, as inaudible whispers begin, and you can only imagine the amount of complaining that is going on in front of your face.

We hope that these moments are in the minority compared to the ones where we are all on the same page, eager to try new things, open ourselves up, and even sweat a little. The Fishing Camp seems to be off to a good start. On the first morning alone, they caught 25 fish. I am allergic to fish, so I've never really been much of a fisherman. I definitely enjoy the process--sitting out near the water, casting your line, hoping something will bite, then you make your move, and the wrestling match begins. There are fish all around us in Kentucky Lake. I have heard of river catfish so big that you can't fit the whole fish in your boat. There are fish so tiny, you can barely see them. They sneak up to your ankle and nibble. You feel a tickle that startles you a bit--it doesn't hurt, but you wonder what it means. Is it about to bite you? Is it smoking of parasite, that you thought only existed in the Amazon, just about to latch on and drain your plasma?

There is much to ponder in a week of camp. There are fish, teenagers, rain, and sometimes they all become one big question. Why aren't they listening? Why aren't they biting? Why did it rain right when I planned to do my nature hike that was going to be so good? The answer will never be very clear. Sometimes these are just fill-in questions for the question we're not yet ready to ask ourselves. The fish don't know you're there. The teenagers aren't really that different from anyone else. So, what is it you really need to know?

Keep all our camps in your prayers. We're moving right along.

This week at Lakeshore 6/5-11

2011-06-10T11:26:00.000-05:00

This week, heat has been at the forefront of our minds. It has stayed in the high 90s, and the South's trademark humidity seems as if it has settled in to stay until September or October. To add to matters, the air conditioner for the large front room of the Conference Center went down. During canteen times, there are people actually leaving the building for the outside to cool off. The other rooms are staying cool, but the gathering place is pretty toasty. We are getting the sauna effect, remaining sweaty for heavy stretches of the day, which would happen, I believe, even if every air conditioner was working. Some say that sweating regularly can cleanse the body, and maybe that is the case, but it certainly doesn't cleanse the outside. But, at the end of a week like this, the staff at Lakeshore feels like they've done a little extra. Playing soccer on a mild, breezy spring day is a pleasure. Playing soccer in the stagnant, humid air of June is work, regardless of how much you enjoy it.

That second week is upon us, and we've upped the ante by having 4 camps this week, where we had 3 last week. The Activity Staff is getting a taste of how truly hectic camp can be. Last week staff was evenly spread, and there was rarely more than one thing going on requiring Activity Staff attention. This week, there are multiple camp events at one time, and all of them need something. So, we've heard over the walkie talkies, a few more frazzled voices. You can hear tension in voices, wondering if this thing is going to happen (it has all happened by the way). But, when you're new to these things, you don't always know what you can handle. It is natural during this early time to get the jitters about all we have to do. After all, we desperately want to be good enough. We don't want to disappoint this thing we believe in so much.

I've made a push this week to complete the Advanced Orienteering Course for the Treehouse Camp, and today they are using it for the first time. I've spent days and days exploring the woods, then carrying posts, a post hole digger, and a steel tamp to set points in the woods. Today the camp is exploring this area to find the posts that will give their sheets of paper a unique hole punch. In naming each spot, I decided to recount the history of Wilderness Camp, and name each point after a different Wilderness Director. As I walked, I was exploring some of Lakeshore's most beautiful spots, and also remembering good friends and great times. The work was hard, though. Carrying heavy pieces of equipment over long distances in sweltering heat can really take it's toll on you. By the end of each day, I was completely drenched from sweat, and I had a dirt tan (when your legs look like you have a great suntan, but you are actually just coated in dirt). My arms are sore, my legs are scratched up, and my shoulders are weak from carrying the posts and tools on them. mosquitoes attack every spot of exposed skin and sometimes skip looking for skin and just bite through your shirt. Ticks seem to just appear on your ankle and make the journey up your leg to places you'd prefer they not attach. Around every turn, it seems, there is a spider web lined perfectly with your face. And, maybe worst of all, there are gnats that insist on flying into your eyes and ears, denying you any peace that you might be able to relish amongst all those other trials.

But, as I walked, I also saw the awakening of many things that were a little more pleasant. I ate my first blueberry and blackberry of the year, right from the bushes surrounding my feet. I heard the drone of the first cicadas. There are only a few out now, but they say we will be hearing the lullabies of thousands and thousands here soon. And now, the treehouse camp are braving those woods to find blessings of their own. I am certainly sore. I'm sure they will be too. But, I've also heard that sweat can be very cleansing.

Pray for us as we welcome Campamento Espirtu, the Conference's first Hispanic camp along with our Developmentaly Disabled camp, Music and Drama, Watersports 1, Teen Hope 3, and Backpacking Camp.

This week at Lakeshore 5/29 - 6/4

2011-06-04T00:27:00.000-05:00

Summer campers returned to Lakeshore this week. These cyclical events sneak up on us over the years. Summer heat arrived with the kids. Last week, there were cool nights--we put on our jackets and used extra blankets. As the campers pulled into the parking lot, we were approaching the mid-90s, and the sun was beating on us. Many of us got to work on our farmer's tans and the sandal lines for the feet, while getting as many cars parked on the blacktop as humanly possible. March doesn't seem that far back. Christmas is in recent memory. And now we sweat upon exposure to outside, and 9-12 year olds are lurking at every turn.

At any point in the camp you hear a swell of sounds. There is the music coming from the pool. There's always the sounds of a lawn mower or weed eater. The air conditioners sing to each other as you pass among the cabins. You'll hear all the camp songs that can't seem to get out of your head. If you quiet yourself enough, you'll hear the birds singing and squaking at each other. There's the sound of gravel under your feet as you walk out to the creek for creek stomping. Then at night, the frogs take over, and you must be hearing thousands of them, singing you to sleep.

As you walk near the Conference Center, you can smell your next meal. Depending on the time of day, you may pick up bacon on the air or fresh rolls. There is the occasional unwelcome odor of armadillos that find their final resting place around the camp. But then, there is the smell of lavendar next to the Lawson house. There is the smell of bug spray (the bug sprays have started trying to have more pleasing odors, so you find these strange smells of tropical deet). And, you smell your sweatiness about mid-afternoon when the deoderant wears off.

At the end of the day, when the deoderant has worn off, you feel that film on your skin that rubs off. You feel the thickness of the air, as the humidity gets thicker and thicker. There is the feeling of tiny arms hugging you goodbye at the end of the week. There's the feeling of the cool sand that you get your feet to if you dig down just a little bit on the waterfront. If you aren't careful, you might feel the pavement on your knees or hands from tripping if you run a little carelessly.

There are the tastes that return with the campers as well. Ice cream was delivered today, and you are again tempted by the Twix ice cream bars and ice cream sandwiches. Peanut butter M&Ms are a daily temptation for the taste buds at the canteen. You are also bound to eat some kind of chicken nearly every day in nugget, finger, or patty form. You'll taste a lot more than food too. You get a taste of all sorts of things during your summers here.

And, oh the things you get to see. Our lifeguard, Megan was entertained today by a Harry Potter puppet show, put on by the girls of Cabin 4. We saw a music video made by the campers of the Elementary Camp this week. We saw messages written on the windows of camp in temporary marker, by the Girls of Camp Teen Hope. We saw (or didn't see) Wilderness take an active part in a camoflauge lesson by covering themselves in mud and leaves.

The summer is here and we know it with all of our senses. You can't help but know when you walk the grounds of this place. You are bound to know that something is going on, regarless of the time, day or night. Lesson to them. They are telling you that something is stirring. It has begun. Summer camp is here.

Keep all our campers and staff in your prayers. Also, be in prayer for Mickey Watson, husband of our summer kitchen manager, Debbie. Here's to summer.

This week at Lakeshore 5/8-14

2011-05-17T09:24:00.001-05:00

The waters of the Tennessee river are slowly retreating, and it's leaving behind lots of driftwood, trash, gray colored grass, and an unpleasant fishy smell. The garden labyrinth is back to dry ground, and one of the soccer goals could actually be played on (though you probably want to be very accurate when you shoot). Our boat house has been placed back on the ground, and we are left wondering exactly how we are going to get everything back where it was originally when the water has completely settled. There are, though, pleasant odors to offer balance to sun-ripened dead fish. The honeysuckles are in full bloom, and anytime you pass a vine, you know it, whether you see their bright yellow and white trumpets or not. It is like passing by the perfume of the girl you had a crush on in junior high--something your nose will not forget, though you may forget why you know it.

Camp Bluebird was back for their spring visit to Lakeshore, and if you took a walk around the Conference Center, you would see it decked out in disco decoration. Camp Bluebird comes up with a different theme each time, and this time they chose to remember that era that many of us would prefer to forget. At dinner Wednesday night, everyone donned their polyester and big hair. If you remember the time, you might feel like you had stepped back into the 70s. If you didn't remember the time, you might wonder why it looks like your parents' attic. Regardless, it's always a good time to stroll during a typical day of Camp Bluebird. These people really have a good time. You just never know what you will step into.

Mark Twain referred to golf as, "a good walk spoiled," but last Thursday those spoiled walks at least benefited campers. Lakeshore held it's second annual Golf Classic to raise money for camp scholarships, and while the returns aren't completely in, we raised thousands of dollars. Though never playing golf before, I got to help manage the putting competition. As the Reverend David Hollis and I discussed, putting is different than what we were used to, because the green was made of real grass, and there were no dinosaurs there to try to put around. By the end of the day, many of Lakeshore's great friends got in an afternoon of golf, and more campers will have a chance to go to camp. And probably the greatest miracle of the day--David Hollis' team actually used one of his shots in the four man scramble.

Tiffany Dowdy has been helping out a lot at camp this spring, in preparation for her summer internship this year. Most recently, she helped me explore the territory where we will put our advanced orienteering course to be used by Treehouse Camps on their last day. The grand finale of the week will have tent groups using a map and compass to find points out in the woods. The campers will see the origins of our creek, beautiful rock formations, and one of the greatest views at camp, as they check off different points on their maps. We walked the area in mind, to make sure it was a reasonable distance to travel, so we got to gawk at all the cool things that so few people who come to Lakeshore get to see. We both reminded each other throughout the walk with awe, "this is still Lakeshore." While on the way back to camp, we heard a noise like an avalanche of pebbles. When we realized where the sound came from, we froze and stood there not really knowing what to do. About 20 feet away sat the biggest snake either of us had ever seen in the wild--a timber rattlesnake. It was easily as big around as my calf muscle. It coiled up and shook it's tail at us, letting us know he did not want us to approach. We honored his request by taking a very round about path around him. We tried to get a picture of him, but they all looked like a "Where's Waldo," for rattlesnakes because he blended in so well. Tiffany also took video of the snake, and you could hear the rattle very well. I'm sure many will think we are exaggerating the size, but my story is that he was bigger around than my calf muscle.

You just never know where you will end up when you set out for a walk. You could come across the most deadly animal in the forest or a fill-in for John Travolta. That green grass may look flat, but then you discover it has a slight slope just before the hole. You will walk through a grove and take into your nostrils a sweet familiar smell, better than any botanical soap or shampoo in the entire health and beauty aisle. You'll feel the breeze of cool air on your face, come back just one or two more times before it's hot for good. You hear the whippoorwill begin it's loopy serenade when the stars come out. Take it all in and love this life that is given to you each day with a pretty bow. But, watch where you step. After all, the rattle is there to warn you.

The waters continue to fall at the waterfront, but there is more to go. We will have some serious clean up to do to be ready by summer camp. Thanks for your prayers. Keep our groups: Garland UMC Youth, Whitehouse UMC Youth, and Lakeshore's Scrapbooking Retreat in your prayers as well. Until next week...

This week at Lakeshore 5/1-7

2011-05-09T12:13:00.001-05:00

Even after the rains stopped this week, the river continued to rise. It rose higher than we have ever seen it. Places I thought were untouchable by flood waters sit a foot or two under cover of this swelled lake. You cannot see the volleyball net posts on the beach. Our large dock almost floated off of the poles that hold it in places. The poles are typically about 10 feet tall when you stand on the dock. The maintenance staff took the john boat out and tied the boathouse, ramp, and several other waterfront structures to the shore. The boathouse began floating. Fisherman have been drawn to the new edge of the water like a catfish to a nightcrawler. Out the window, we see men standing in front of what normally is the garden labyrinth, casting their lines. A bass boat pulled through our soccer field and trolled along over the labyrinth.

We've had several school groups come to visit this week: Grace Saint Lukes and Briarcrest. Grace Saint Lukes joined us at the beginning of the week and did a snakes lesson, creek lesson, then a night hike. At the end of the night hike, we met a park ranger at the state park's first shelter, for an owl prowl. The state park does these programs for free, where a ranger will play a set of owl calls, and spotlight the owls who come to check out the noises. As we got to the shelter, it began to sprinkle. It was a very dark night, and, as you can imagine, difficult to keep the kids quiet. The ranger played the owl calls, and we listened for owls, but heard nothing. The rain picked up and little, and you couldn't help but think that the noise would drown out the owl calls. Justin, the park ranger, leaned over to me and said, "I don't know if we're going to see any. It's up to you if you want to stay longer." About the time he finished the statement, we heard a hoot from the trees above us. Justin stepped out from under the shelter roof, and the kids followed. We stood out under the trees, rain falling on our faces, looking at the owls perched in on the branches above. We walked back to camp with soggy shoes and socks, wet shirts, and rain jacket hoods pulled over our heads.

The next group was the entire 7th grade class of Briarcrest. We moved the class of 125 through Low Ropes, High Ropes, Giant Swing, Ground Zipline, and a little time at the creek in a matter of 2 days. It was a marathon of activity, and we had a great deal of help from some of our former staffers who came up to facilitate the ropes course. A few of the staffers, worked their way into the boathouse, somehow, at the end of the day, and took kayaks out to explore the flooded area. You could paddle your way through acres and acres of woods during this time, and it's a very interesting thing to observe. You see squirrels still jumping from branch to branch, in treetops 100s of yards from shore. They are living in treehouses stilted up above the deep waters, and don't seem to see much of a difference.

After finishing the ropes course and waving goodbye to the 7th graders on their charter buses, we climbed the hill and saw the decorations for the wedding taking place this weekend. A giant tent was set up on the blacktop with an arbor constructed for the altar place. Daniel Hampton is getting married to Lauren Gowan, both spent much of their childhood at camp. They had hoped to get married on the beach, but if that were the case, they would need some scuba gear. They relocated to the top of the hill, where, we hope, we never see waters make their way. As I made my way to the camp, I could see the wet spots on the telephone poles, showing that the water had dropped a little bit. We hope it will drop enough that we can play our soccer and build our sand castles. But, we know our plans are often thwarted. The rain comes down, the waters rise, and we find ourselves having to figure out some way to adapt to this unpredictable, fantastic world. These things remind us that trying to be in control can be some of the most frustrating, unrealistic things you can try to do. There truly are powers out there much stronger than us. You can curse the loss of those well-laid plans, but you can also turn your face to the skies and watch the sky rain down life and power right onto your cheeks.

Pray for Camp Bluebird and the new union of Daniel and Lauren Hampton. We've heard several people offer to help with the clean-up of our waterfront when the waters finally go down. We appreciate you thinking of us. If you would like to help, contact the camp, and we'll keep you posted.

This week at Lakeshore 4/24-30

2011-04-29T11:25:00.002-05:00

We have seen the nourishing side of nature this week, and we have seen the hard side. It's crazy how sometimes that is the same side. The storms that have passed through this week were likely much worse in the areas surrounding us, but we've had some down trees and really soggy ground to tromp around on. The winds that ripped through Monday night woke most of the staff up, we discovered, as we traded stories the next morning. You walk through the woods the next day, when things have quieted down, and you see trees lying down, asleep, still, and firmly planted on the earth. You walk by streams that are rushing with mini waterfalls, where there is normally dry ground. You know last night, though, there was violence. Trees much stronger than us were tossed around like a game. Rain came down in droves and washed chunks of wood and brush over places you wouldn't imagine. The next day, you go out, feel the streams rushing, hear the birds singing and gathering pieces for their nest, and you marvel at how beautiful it is one day after such destruction.

Tiffany Dowdy has been helping build an orienteering course for the camp, and she came up twice this week. Treehouse Wilderness will be doing a day of orienteering, where they will be given a map and compass and told to go find several points out in the woods. We've been working on a beginner course that stays close to the wilderness trail, to get campers used to navigation before they get set loose into the woods. To do this, Tiffany and I did a lot of pacing, measuring, writing down coordinates, and double checking our compass work. The wilderness trail looks much different to both of us, now that we have criss-crossed it, mapped it, and developed stations all around it. It's interesting how easy it is to change your perspective on something you thought you knew so well, just by standing at a different angle.

As we were laying out points number 3 and 4, I looked to a small tree above the creek, right next to the second bridge, and I saw a Barred Owl perched about 30 feet away. I told Tiffany to stop and look. We were both awestruck. The creek was roaring loud enough, that it made it more difficult for the owl to hear us, so we very quietly walked closer. We walked like we were passing through a minefield. Every now and then, the owl would turn it's head almost 180 degrees. We froze, as if playing red light/green light. The owl would lean his head down, and look down his nose at us. It was like a parent giving a child, "the look." When he turned back, we would slowly start moving again. We got about 15 feet from this bird, and he flapped his big gray wings, settling on a large oak farther away.

The NOMADS have returned to Lakeshore. They are a group of retired Methodist couples who travel around in RVs, staying at Methodist camps along the way. They stay for several weeks, and in return for an RV parking space and some meals, they do work projects during their stay. This group is a talented group with carpenters and licensed electricians. In this first week, they have gone to work on the Oxley Field Station, which has really deteriorated over the past few years. While walking out to the orienteering course, Corky pulled up in his truck, stopped and rolled down the window. He was visibly excited, and said, "You should see what they've done with Oxley. It looks like a whole different place." As you can probably guess, it takes something of note to get Corky excited as far a maintenance projects go. Gary and Bill announced that they would rededicate the Oxley cabin as the Oxley/Lambuth cabin and try obtain memorabilia from Lambuth to decorate the cabin. We are excited about keeping Lambuth's memory alive in this cabin that had connections to the university.

Years ago, the cabin was used as a biological field station. Lambuth Biology students would come up for weekends as part of their class and do field work in and around the river. The cabin was named after Professor Oxley. I imagine what it must have been like, thinking back to my college days, to come up to this cabin, tucked in the woods with 10 or 15 other college kids. We'd pick up samples, run tests, and probably have to write some papers along the way. But, then there would also be the evenings when we would sit outside, listening to the sounds of the river--the splash of the water on the shore, the frogs trying to out sing each other, and the spring wind cutting through the pine trees. Later the camp would make the cabin the focus of the Camp Hope Series, and youth from some very volatile places came to rest and be loved. Now, Camp Hope has outgrown the cabin, and Lambuth is closing it's doors, years after college kids' schedules got far too busy to make a weekend trip to the cabin. A tall tree in the forest has fallen. Our hope is that people will come back to this old cabin made new to explore, to remember, to reflect, and see something awe inspiring just feet away from them.

I stood at the window of the Kaigler Lakeside Cabin (I had been without power at my house for about 2 days) during lunch. I watched the rains come down out the window, and I saw the waters of the river rise. It bounced the docks and began to pull sand from the shores into the lake. By the end of lunch the waters were higher, and they have continued to rise for several days with no sign of slowing. It will carry things away, topple trees, cause work intensive damage. Even today, as they still rise, life springs out and thrives in the midst of this disaster. The birds sing as loud as ever. And today, the sun shines. The storms have certainly come, and they have certainly brought things down in their wake. We should look around and know the sadness it brings. But, in the sadness remember that the God of life and creation gets right back to work, and life eternal springs up. It will cover us if we let it.

Middle Tennessee Camp Bluebird and Rehobeth UMC youth are with us this weekend. There are many to keep in our prayers this weekend: those hit by the storms, those tied to Lambuth University, the family of Holly Bobo. May the sun shine on us in this time.

Lakeshore is proud to announce the 2011 Summer Staff

2011-04-25T11:23:00.000-05:00

Aquatics Director: Justin Reed

Challenge Course/Nature Director: Nathan Snow

Crafts Director: Dorothy Harvey

First Aid Director: Sarah Camper

Lifeguards: Michael McNeely and Megan Montgomery

Music/Media Director: Abigail Swan

Oxley Director: Jonathan Gowan

Program Utilities Facilitator: Hannah Murry

Recreation Director: Kaitlin Bullwinkel

Resident Counselors: Allison Doyle

Teela Etheridge

Kellie Jones

Kelsey Kennel

Mary Catherine Lowe

Kate McKnight

Hope Montgomery

Shannon Park

Emma Tinius

Andrew Barton

Kevin Maness

Jacob Paul

John Raper

Shawn Schuring

Joshua Zermeno

Wilderness Director: Alyssa Jones

Wilderness/Oxley Resident Counselors: Emily Dodson and Joe Montgomery

This week at Lakeshore 4/10-16

2011-04-19T12:25:00.000-05:00

Oh, what a week. I declare to the whole world that the most beautiful, perfect day of the entire year came to us last Tuesday. The temperature was exactly at a point to foster human happiness. There was a breeze that curculated the air just enough for comfort, but not enough to blow papers away. The sky was a deep, beautiful blue, and yet your skin did not feel the rays enough to worry over sun screen. This is the weather we dream of. This is the weather we imagine it to be when we look back on these memories with just a little too much nostalgia. We sometimes make them a little better than they actually were. But, I tell you, this is not exaggeration. The day felt this good.

We had the Board of Ordained Ministry up this week doing interviews with those seeking ordination. It is a stressful time for everyone involved. Imagine job interviews that are stretched out over months, even years. So there are pastors of all age and experience level up to make these difficult decisions (and forgive me if I didn't explain it just right). A pastor sat next to me at lunch and asked, "What do you know, Troy." I would typically respond with the standard, "nothing," or "not a whole lot," but on that day, I knew exactly what I knew. "It is a beautiful day," is how I responded.

I found on Tuesday that I really had more pressing work to do in the office than outside, so I had to make sure that when I walked from one building to another that the walk was a slow, deliberate one. I checked in on our goose couple (who I have named Nick and Nora) from the road above the waterfront. I looked out on the river which looked so blue because of the sky that was also so blue. I wanted to go out to trails and hike them or put the sailboat in the water and drift to the other side of Kentucky Lake. Surely there was some important work to do out there, more important than the work waiting for me in my office.

I sat at the table another time with a group of pastors who were swapping stories about unexpected things that had happened out in the congregation while they were delivering sermons. It was very enjoyable to hear these pastors, who can so often feel the need to talk the minute details of theology or church politics to just let loose and tell stories. It is so much fun to park yourself at a table or circle of rocking chairs and listen to people tell stories. We laughed and joked, and it felt no different than a cabin of campers during the summer who are realizing how great community can be.

The thing about perfect weather, though, is that those perfect conditions are delicate by their nature. That nice breeze that flows through is probably the start of a strong wind that is on it's way. That mild temperature is teetering on a balance of jet stream with hot, gulf air pushing against cold, arctic fronts. It will slip soon, and we will have on us the storms that ripped through Friday night and made it difficult for parents to get their kids here for counselor certification. That perfect day will give way to tornadoes that kill and leave people homeless. Sometime after we sit and joke around the table, those pastors may decide that they are not ready to endorse another pastor for the ordination they seek, leaving everyone to hurt and grieve.

I walked outside Friday night, as a round of storms passed near Lakeshore. The wind brought cold air, so I wrapped up in a long sleeve flannel shirt. The sky lit up now and then with flashes of lightening and the dark sky rumbled in the distance. At this moment, I was quick to want to go back inside. I thought of reasons that I might not need to go out and turn on lights outside, hopes that there might be some work inside I would need to complete. It was a far cry from that perfect Tuesday when I wished I could be outside for every moment. And yet, as the lightenting lit up the sky, if even for a moment, I stood just a little amazed that in all of it, there was a God working--building up some new kind of creation that I don't yet know or understand.

This weekend, we have Counselor Certification and a womens' Sunday School group. Keep us in your prayers.

This week at Lakeshore 4/3-9

2011-04-08T15:14:00.001-05:00

Ah, shades of summer in the air. We technically have over 2 months left until summer, but when it comes to weather we tend to be quick to jump the gun. On nearly every tree here at Lakeshore, there is some sort of green. Many trees have unfolded their leaves completely. When the sun is out, you really feel it on your skin, these days. We've reached the 80s on several occasions this week. Baseball has begun, and only one game remains in college basketball. These are the days that we catch ourselves staring out the window of the office or classroom, watching the branches wave at us. There is a coat of green dust on your car in the morning. In the evenings, you walk out for a few moments and wish it could be much longer. You feel the need to soak this scene and this feeling up, to hold onto as long as you can. This calls you to enjoy it.

The United Methodist Women are having two retreats with us. One began Thursday and ended today. Then another will come in tomorrow and stay until Sunday. It was great to see some old friends. I got to sit down for lunch with Pat Calhoun and Joyce Wiggins along with a few new friends. I encouraged them to sneak out of their sessions and just sit in the rocking chairs for the afternoon. There is something during this time of year, I find at least, that calls out to the mischievous 10 year old in all of us who couldn't imagine being indoors, no matter how noble the cause, on a day like today.

I have this feeling frequently on trips with groups of people. I am that energetic 10 year old who cannot stop moving. In the midst of deciding where to eat or fumbling with directions, I am simply looking around at the road or path that veers off into something I imagine is great. I wait patiently for that time when we decide to split up or when everyone takes a break. I tell them I am going to explore--that I'll be back later. I feel like I've been set free like a wild horse to run across the range. I remember taking the El Train in Chicago to the end of the Purple Line all the way to the Linden stop in Wilmette, a Chicago suburb. I got out and walked this quiet neighborhood of beautiful houses, making my way to Lake Michigan. There was a park there on the sand dunes. I stopped for a minute to watch a group of young to middle-aged men playing soccer. I passed trees and bushes to the edge of the beach. It seemed completely wild, but I knew just a few miles down the coast, there was a giant city, towering over the lake shore. I had to get back to the bed and breakfast where I was staying in the neighborhood of Lakeview. I wanted more time to take it all in. I could have watched for hours.

I walked out of the office to take a call on my cell phone and watched many of the women who were out on their afternoon free time. I spied on a pair who were trying to push over a dead tree. I looked out onto our prayer labyrinth and watch four or five women make their way to the center and back out. People were walking in all directions over the camp under the sun, past a soft breeze. The bees were out, hard at work to touch everything not the color green. We have begun the time consuming task of keeping the grass trimmed at camp, and we recently hired a groundskeeper named Justin. He was both excited and nervous on his first day. He said he was just really afraid he was going to break or mess something up. I think after watching us handle boats in the summer, he'll find it easier to relax.

This weekend, we have our largest backpacking retreat to date. We'll have 12 campers with us, hiking into the woods of Nathan Bedford Forest State Park. There, at the end of that Saturday when the tents have been set up and I'm able to sit there with Kentucky Lake in the background, watching these 12 adventurers end their Saturday under the stars, fireflies, and infant leaves, I will want even more time to soak it all in.

This weekend, we have the United Methodist Women and a group of backpackers. Let's enjoy this weekend that God has given us.

This week at Lakeshore 3/20-26

2011-03-25T15:46:00.001-05:00

It has been a week made for sailing at the Shore. Nearly every moment I was outdoors this week, there was some sort of wind moving over the hills and hollers. When I walk past the camp sailboat, parked on a trailer outside the maintenance building, I feel the breeze and imagine it grabbing hold of that strip of canvas and pushing that boat through the water. I can feel the boat cutting through the river, with now motor sounds or smells. Just that wind and the sound of water. Standing on the hills this week, you can see the new young green on many of the trees. This is a bright, almost fluorescent, green, as if someone took a highlight marker and colored all these infant leaves. The Tulip Poplars (who generally like to be first for everything) have begun pushing out their hat shaped leaves, and you know we'll soon have a full blanket of green over these woods.
We started the week by hosting the Milan First UMC Youth group. They had taken a spring trip to Nashville and learned a lot about what it was like to be homeless. One night, they slept in a parking lot in boxes. The youth were finishing up their trip by coming out and doing our climbing tower. They seemed very tired, and I think a few were a little under the weather. I talked to them about challenge and how we did not want to make them do anything, but we did want them to push themselves to something sort of difficult. As we began, I noticed that many were still setting goals that seemed to be very doable for them. Our least challenging side was by far the most popular. Some were certainly challenged by this, but I could tell that many were having a very easy time with the goal they set for themselves.

It's not really surprising. If you think about it, most of the things we decide to do aren't very risky. To chose to do something, we have to be pretty assured we will succeed or at least that we will have the same outcome as most other people. Sure, climbing a 35 foot tower is a challenge, but there are challenges and then there are challenges. I guess what I mean is that sometimes when we say, "challenge," we mean something that is exercise or adventure. When we say "challenge," on the challenge course, we mean something that makes you feel a little uncomfortable. I see, so often, people decide something "isn't for them," or even "boring," if they aren't yet good at it. How many things do we avoid because we aren't positive we will master it?

Mid-way through the week, the wind brought rain with it, and the temperature dropped again. I wore shorts and got a little bit of tan on my face on Monday. Today, I am wearing a toboggan and coat. We will likely have a fire going in the fireplace of the Conference Center when our groups arrive, and I am looking forward to some warm tea. My dad was telling me about the various "winters" that old timers talked about throughout the spring. You might read about these in a farmer's almanac. He mentioned the "dogwood winter," and the "blackberry winter," that reference how these cold snaps sync up with the blooming of these plants. Then just a few days later I heard a Nashville meteorologist talk about the "red bud winter." The red buds have put out their inappropriately named purple buds. It seems that the dogwoods have bloomed or will very soon. My dad thought, if his memory served him correct, that after the blackberry winter, you know it wouldn't be cold anymore.

I was waiting for the next youth to climb the more challenging side of the climbing tower, and I walked over to a girl who had her equipment on. I asked if she wanted to do the challenging side, and she said, "sure," with a "well, why not?" kind of attitude. She got a step off the ground and immediately began to scream. This is not a blood-curdling, horror movie type scream--much more a squeaky sort of scream. She was screaming, but never really seemed all that scared. I began to feel that this might just be something to comfort her. Some people make jokes, some sing, she decided she would scream. Her goal was to go half way up, but after the proper encouragement, she made it all the way to the top. After they saw a girl climb, many of the boys decided that maybe the more challenging side was within their ability.

The dogwood or red bud winter is still here today and looks to stay around through a decent stretch of next week. The wind has brought drizzles and even sleet at Lakeshore today. Yet, I still love to hear it, no matter what the temperature. You get on top of the hill, stop and close your eyes, and you could be in one of many places. Maybe you are just off the ocean, and that salt-water air joining you. Or, you're on a mountain pass somewhere and it seems that you might be the only upright walking animal 50 miles from here. Or you're standing on that blacktop drive just in front of the craft hut, looking out over the big, wide river, Pilot's Knob off a mile or so in the distance. You hear the wind and the leaves, a barge, and a train somewhere in the distance. What will this wind bring next? When it does, what will you do?

This weekend we host the second round of our Confirmation Retreat, UT Martin Sigma Chi, and the Open Heaven Orientation. Keep us in your prayers this weekend. Last week we mentioned a need for a donation that will make a stain glass window possible in our prayer chapel. This Monday morning, Bill told me that we received a donation that will make it possible. Thanks to everyone who supports us.

This week at Lakeshore 3/13-19

2011-03-18T21:13:00.001-05:00

Water is rising at Lakeshore, and the lake referred to in our name is stretching out slowly, like you would at the end of the day on your couch. We haven't seen rain in days, but the river continues to creep inland, covering patches of woods that you can normally walk on and back without a cluster of mud stuck to the treads of your shoes. There are inevitably these times in spring when the river rises. Our river, the Tennessee, empties into the Ohio. So, if the Ohio is flooding, TVA will keep our dams closed so as not to make the situation in Ohio River country even damper. The result, for us, is a soggy bottomed wading pool where the beach and soccer field normally stand. It's not unusual to find a Canada Goose paddling in the same path towards the goal that a soccer ball will travel in July off the foot of a camper during an evening soccer match. You see only the tops of platforms in the water and realize they are the tables that you have to hoist yourself onto in dryer months. And, it seems, there is some place that just dumps driftwood and wood chips into the river every spring when it floods. As the water recedes, Lakeshore becomes a depository for anything from a tree that has been shed in the past three weeks to styrofoam, plastic oil bottles, fishing bobs, and even the occasional flip flop (Lord only knows where the match is).

The Ohio was supposed to crest on Thursday, but it could be a long time before the waters go down. This rise of the tide is actually more typical of late April, rather than mid-March, so we worry a bit if this is just a taste of what is to come. Should we get to work on a giant boat and load up Lily, Miles, Jock, Monty the snake, some squirrels, and a dove? I've learned here that trying to predict things is an invitation to disappointment.

Ms. Gwen has been working on cushions to go on our kneeler in the prayer chapel for some time. She spent a lot of time looking for materials, because, as she says, "it's hard to find material anywhere. Nobody carries it anymore." And, she's right. Do you remember that section of Wal-Mart carved out for materials and patterns? They disappeared, it seemed, overnight, and now if you want to make a pillow for someone shaped like a smiley face, you're going to go on quite the hunt to find what you need. She finally found the materials and gave them and measurements to the woman she knows who sews these things. And, she brought the cushions back, opening the our conversation with, "I think we have a problem." It is funny how when you hear this, your mind usually envisions a problem far worse than the one about to be related to you. What could it be? Does the material cause a rash? Does it smell terrible? Did the woman sew cuss words into the cushion? It turns out, the cushion was about twice as wide as it needed to be, so it just hung off the kneeler and into the floor.

I assured Ms. Gwen that we could use it. We need cushions for the floor of the prayer chapel, so we can have more kneeling space around the room. But, she came back the next day and got the cushions. She said, "I just couldn't sleep last night thinking about those cushions. I called the woman and asked if she could fix them, and she said it wouldn't be a problem. I didn't want to put her out, but I want it to look good, too." So earlier this week, Ms. Gwen showed back up with a kneeling pad that fit the kneeler perfectly. "Next time," she said, "I'm just going to donate money."

Lakeshore went on the road Friday to do team building off site. A good friend of the camp, Kristen, and I went to a boys' home to do team building. When we arrived, the staff first apologized that we might hear some "language," and that they had asked them to keep it toned down. We assured them that we had heard it all before, and it was really okay. We led a group of twelve guys through some team building activities for the rest of the morning. Even after splitting them into two groups of six, Kristen taking one and me taking the other, we both had our hands full. The boys had the attention span of a hummingbird. It is tricky leading team building with a group like this. It's important to keep them on task and challenge them. But, it's also important for the events to be something they have some interest in. So, you have to make something interesting to a group that comes in already skeptical. We had moments where that was going well. We both managed to engage the boys in conversations where they talked to us like they trusted us. But, then, mid-way through the morning a fight broke out. I'm sure it had less to do with the two involved and more with everything that has stacked up on them. Regardless, if was tough to hold anyone's attention by the end. We continued to talk, finding out more about their lives. Kristen sat down and talked to a group, while I played basketball with a few. They seemed a bit disappointed when we told them we couldn't stay for lunch. It made me want to stay longer.

Women's Emmaus is with us this weekend, and one of the first things they discovered upon arriving in their cabins were wasps, just woken up by the warm temperatures. Of course, we had people allergic to wasps in each cabin. At this point, we are still getting sitings. Last night, I went into a cabin, broom in hand, ready to take them down. I left the cabin, but 3 wasps did not. Earlier today, Corky was called in to spray a spot outside the cabin where they are known to enter. Wasps fell like drops from the roof after a spring drizzle. Tonight, I'll return for round two of my wasp face-off. Hopefully, I'll retain use of my typing (and wasp spraying) fingers after we meet up again.

It's hard to tell what might rise up, even when you've done your best to predict everything. These times, we realize that we don't have it all figured out as well as we think. The river rises, the wasps return, and kids are born everyday who have to live their lives in a way they didn't ask for. You can get so frustrated, you just throw punches at the thing that happens to get in front of you at the wrong moment. You just wanted to help make something for the camp, and now it's not what you hoped it would be. You find yourself spraying poison into holes in the walls. You shout. You yell. You wonder why. Even if you want to fix things, you're not sure how. But, there was a moment at twilight, when I sat still. I watched the sun drift behind and out from clouds as it made its journey below the hills. I listened to the wind and felt how nice this day truly was. For then, there was peace. I may not solve any more problems in my time here, but I hope that others feel this sometime. That they get it too--that moment of stillness and contentment, when nothing for that moment is of consequence. Be still. Know.

Pray with us for Women's Emmaus and the boys we worked with today.

And, if you are interested in helping us with the Prayer Chapel, we would be very grateful. If you would like to donate $1,500 for a stain glass window to be put in, you could direct a dedication that will go next to it. Contact us for more information.

This week at Lakeshore 3/6-12

2011-03-11T13:53:00.001-06:00

Ah, on this Friday, I'm basking in sunlight. It is one of those days when it's actually kinda chilly outside, but the sun fools you. If you can stay in sunlight, you can believe it's warm. You could even coax yourself into shorts and a t-shirt. Just stay away from the shade if you decide to do that. It is quintessential spring at Lakeshore today and it is forecasted to be that way this weekend. It is what you think about when you imagine spring. Throughout the week, though, we've dealt more with that harsh reality side of spring that tends to bounce all over the thermometer and go from sunny to overcast and rainy in the time it takes the winds to change.

It was downright cold a few days this week, and there was no chance for the rain from the weekend to dry up. It looked out of place to notice the buds on the trees and bushes, as you shivered underneath your sweatshirt and toboggan. It's like your eyes or your skin, one, is playing tricks on you. It reminds me of a time when I went to visit some of my family in Reno, Nevada. It was July, and we were there in that dry, desert air, sweating and tanning, until we took a trip to Lake Tahoe. As we ascended the mountains of the Sierras, it got cooler and even started snowing. We got out of the car, in our shorts and threw snow balls, with the desert and July waiting below.

The river is slowly sneaking its way higher and higher. It is up beyond its normal summer level and if getting very close to the bonfire ring on the waterfront. It will likely creep even higher, passing from the marshy woods next to our soccer field among the picnic tables and that first soccer net. You will see that spot that you might sit out on the summer, next to a campfire, under water. That spot that can be so dry and dusty, next to the Friday evening barbecue chicken cook-out. If you visit a few months later, you might see a group warming up next to a fire there, with the winds blowing through, out to river, whipping the flames back and forth, changing the direction of the smoke every time you change your position. But, today, it is underwater. You only know it's there because you've sat there before.

I trust that there will be a time soon when I will sweat instantly after walking out the door. The air will feel heavy, and you will feel like you carry it on your shoulders as you walk. I also trust that the snow we saw in droves will be back someday too. I have seen the beginning of green leaves, and I know it won't be long till they visit. I saw two bluebirds on that field that may soon be flooded. I know that I will see their and their cousins' nests all over the camp as I discovered some summer years ago for the first time. And, soon there will be hundreds of sun-burned faces making their way here to see sites of their own. There is much to see. So many strange, fantastic things to find and know.

This weekend we have a Conference Junior/Senior High retreat along with the women of Ebenezer UMC and some Union City Boy Scouts. We lift them up along with the Tsunami victims. May we all find peace.

This week at Lakeshore 2/27-3/5

2011-03-05T14:08:00.001-06:00

So much has returned to us recently. It has snuck up and surprised many of us. But, the animals and plants don't really act based on our expectations, now, do they? When you have such a winter as we experienced, you resign yourself to the fact that you may be cold for much longer than you are used to. If it snows 4 weeks in a row, then surely there will be some sort of transitional period before we are completely immersed in spring weather. The birds and trees would surely be cautious enough to wait and make sure it is not going to snow again, right? Though we may feel compelled to go through this life cautiously, the animals and plants do not know that kind of caution. They only know that light is coming back longer during the day.

And so, this week, the buds appeared on the Red Maples. The green sprouts are beginning to show themselves on the bushes and trees around camp. When you look out from the top of a hill on the trees of the forest, you see a dusting of red, orange, and green. The gray and brown of winter has a lighter tinge to it. When you walk outside at Lakeshore, you hear choruses of songbirds, practicing for Easter rather than a single Red-headed Woodpecker overhead or a crow squawking in the distance. The world is coming back to life all around us. Old friends are returning.

Our first Emmaus Walk joined us on Thursday of this week. It will last Thursday to Sunday, and the group will have several things happen during the weekend that are pretty powerful. Even on a men's walk, a fly on the wall is liable to witness some tears shed pretty heavy. I think it is too rare that adults get a chance to retreat like this and have meaningful, spiritual time together. For many of this group, this could be the first time they have had an experience like this since going out on their own. The power of these walks speaks to our need to do this every now and again.

When I was in my early 20s, a group of friends and I took a trip each Spring to Heber Springs, Arkansas. There was a state park there on a big body of water, and we would set up tents only yards from the rocky shore. We hiked, climbed large hills (one called Sugar Loaf), and patronized the State Park visitor's center, complete with the Oregon Trail computer game and movie about the park's history. There are quotes that we all still exchange with each other from those trips. There were years there where many of us went and years there were only 2 or 3. I can remember a year after we lost a close friend, Mark, a few of us took this trip to Heber Springs. We did not talk about it much, but Mark seemed to be on our minds whatever we did and wherever we went. It wasn't sad and mournful--more reflective. I can look back on those trips and see how we grew up, over the years and started becoming who we are now. Those trips to the wilderness drew us to reflect and prepare.

The rain from last week was still washing through the ditches and culverts around camp days after it stopped falling from the sky. The ground is saturated with water, so anything that lands on it cannot soak into the soil. It will hit the ground and run. When you walk next to these part-time creek beds that have come back to life during this one time of year, it begins slow, having just gathered from the hill. But, as you follow it, it picks up speed. More water flows into it, and it begins to rush. You can hear it fall. It bubbles and races towards something bigger. It will eventually empty into the Tennessee River which will empty into the Ohio which will empty into the Mississippi which will empty in the Gulf of Mexico. Such a journey these drops that fell from the sky in Spring will make.

It may then return to us someday, on one of those Spring days when the hot air hits the cold. The thunder claps rumble across the hills, and you hear it from miles off. The sky darkens blue and that drop that fell years ago returns to us from a trip halfway around the world. We see you once again, like the Robins, back looking for earthworms. It takes us back to other times in our life, maybe that day when the rain came back and we went out to see how high the creek might rise. Or, maybe it comes to us on a day that pushes us indoors to stand looking out the window, thinking of what will come next. Who knows what you have seen? Who knows what you could tell now?

Pray for the Pilgrims of the 96th West Tennessee Emmaus Walk. Longer days are coming.

This week at Lakeshore 2/20-26

2011-02-28T17:43:00.002-06:00

Spring is coming to visit more often these days. Spring is looking for a place in the area to settle down. This seems like a nice spot. Spring can visualize staying here for a few months if all goes right. We had some nice mild days this week at the camp. We also had the windy days and the rain that are so typical of spring. The rain during these months comes in such volume that your dry creek beds seem as if they might run wide into the summer. With the hills we have here in Benton County, there is water run-off from miles away that builds and builds until it gets to the ditch next to your house and overwhelms your culvert.

I walked through the woods several times, one of the days we had pretty steady rain. Each time, I would look out the window and see that the rain had slowed down or stopped. It seemed a perfect time to get out and go where I needed to go. Then, when I got far enough out that it wasn't practical to turn around, the rain would pick back up and I would get pretty soaked. I think the enjoyment of walking in the rain is an acquired taste that takes a little conditioning. If it has been awhile, it can be a pretty miserable experience. You definitely have to have the right attitude to take these rain walks and not enter the next building a little grouchier.

I remember when I was in college, I made a decision not to buy an umbrella. When it rained, I would just have to walk to class in the rain. Going to school at UT Knoxville meant that I had some pretty decent walks to make between certain classes, so there were days that I would definitely get completely wet. I had resigned myself to deal with the elements whatever happened. If it rained it rained on me. If it snowed it snowed on me. If it tornadoed it tornadoed on me. I remember days spent walking at a normal, casual pace through downpours and feeling so alive. I had to talk myself into denying those feelings about cold, wet clothes and backpack and papers getting soaked. But, once I was at peace with those instincts, it was a beautiful world to walk through. The sounds of the water hitting everything around. The air full of moisture.

On my walk on the road next the Tabernacle and Hope Lodge, I witnessed water flowing in streams on either side of the road. I could hear the water as if it were a permanent creek. I saw the water drop down the hills in mini-waterfalls. I could hear the rain gently falling through the trees and landing on the leaf litter of the wood floor. It's a very different sound and feeling than during the walks through woods on dry days. These experiences where frustration with wet clothes pass like water through the ditches.

This week, the office staff had an office organizing day. We've really looked hard at the budget cuts we've had to take on and try to be creative about saving money. One thing we came up with was to go through everything we have in the office and take inventory to avoid buying something we already have. So, for two days, members of the staff (mostly Vickie and Martha) rearranged, sorted, threw away, and made note of everything we have. There were some pretty crazy things uncovered during this project. There are old slide machines with slides from the 70s and 80s, which we knew about. I got to sort rubber bands, testing every rubber band to see if it's a crusty, crisp, or easily snapable throw-away or something capable of banding something with something else.

This weekend, we have the 30 Hour Famine at Lakeshore, where 250 youth and leaders will go over a full day without food. The event will raise awareness for all different types of hunger all over the world. We filled up our beds and had to turn down some youth groups that wanted to register, which, we think, says very good things about the youth in our conference. I got together with the other leadership members on Friday to eat our final meals at a buffet in Camden. We gave thanks for the food, and then went out to pile up our plates. There were vegetables, cornbread, fried chicken, some sort of meat/mushroom concoction, fruit, and ice cream with some kind of chocolate cobbler on the plates that ended up in front of me. I was hungry in a more intense way throughout this retreat than I'm used to (I've done the famine many times). At the end, when Reverend Dean Emerson helped us break the fast with communion, I was very humbled, almost teary eyed, to get food in my body again. It was a difficult thing on my body this time, but it reminded me, as usual, how fragile I am, and what a miracle it is to have food every day.

Sometimes we need to be reminded how special some of these everyday things are, that we can sometimes view as hassles. How often do we stress over where to eat, what to eat, who to eat with? How often do we think too much about these little side arguments that don't get at the heart of what food really is for us. Ah, but go without for a while. Take some time to fast. And, then when the time comes again to feast, don't just give into the hunger pains and gorge and go on. Take some time to reflect. Walk out into the middle of love and rain where every thing soaks you. Don't worry that it gets all over you. It is giving you life. Love it. Cherish it. Thank your God for it with all of yourself.

This week at Lakeshore 2/13-19

2011-02-19T15:15:00.000-06:00

The time has arrived, indeed, my people. The moment has come when you arise from your bed and step out the door. Your eyes open a little wider, your nose opens up and takes in a strong breathe of the air surrounding you. You want to stretch out your arms and turn you head to the sky. You could spin around in circles like an audition for The Sound of Music. You might even hear a chorus of angels perched on the branches above your home. Hallelujah! Warm weather has returned to us.

You could wear short sleeves this week--heck, if you got real crazy, you probably could have worn shorts. The heat came on very rarely in the office, and the office staff was excited enough by the change in temperature to occasionally open the window. This is a fantastic time of year, because it is warm enough to be outside, but the bugs have not woke up in droves. It takes them a little longer to flood out the doors and enjoy the warmth. At night, though, you could hear some of the frogs singing, just in case someone was listening.

I got out to explore the some of the untrodden woods of the camp this week. We are constructing an orienteering course that will be used by our Wilderness Camp this summer. Campers will set out into the woods with a map and compass to find points that we have designated. There are lots of considerations when plotting a course like this: Is it too wide an area or too small? Is this space too difficult to walk through? By the time the group passes through here, will they be completely lost? How long will it take to get from point A to B to C to D to E? I really want them to see this place, but I don't want them to have to cross those two hills with blackberry thorn pits all over. I walked nearly to the beginnings of our creek and decided on what areas we could use and what areas it would be mean to include on the course. I walked back into a whole different world, far from our buildings and trails. I am excited that campers will soon venture out into this wild portion of camp and know what it's like to be completely surrounded.

We had our quarterly Board of Trustees meeting this week, and beforehand had a staff listening session with board members Billy Cochran, Britt Barkley, and David Wagner. The staff got to sit down and talk a little bit about our positions and the rest of camp. It was nice enough for a few outdoor, rocking chair meetings. Billy was able to stay the night, and we had a chance to sit down for dinner with him and hear stories of his days at Southern College of Optometry.

This weekend, we have the Scrapbooking Retreat, and bright and early Friday morning we had people parked in the lot, ready to get their table in the Conference Center to start scrapbooking. There will be 50 people crowded in to tables with printed memories spread out all over. If there was a wrong move, and a table tipped, they could be trapped for hours. We might need the jaws of life to pull them out from under all the pictures, decorations, albums, and cutting devices. As you walk in, you are just surrounded by peoples' lives. Pictures of recitals and ball games and family vacations. Pictures of newborns and great-grandparents, weddings and graduations. There are pets amid cartoons and conversation bubbles. They will surround themselves with these memories all weekend and linger as long as they can before returning.

I was outside answering a phone call, because I get a better signal and it was so pretty. As I walked towards the pool, I saw a large mound of dirt or sawdust around one of our solar footlights. There were thousands of ants pouring out from there. The warm weather had woken them enough to feel the need to get to work on this giant mound. They had completely coated this 2 by 2 their mound was surrounding. I could feel a warm breeze coming from the west. It was all around me. These days it seems a little easier to notice those things that surround you. They wrap you up, and no matter where you turn, there they are. Like that feeling when you wake up and don't want to move from your bed, because you are completely and utterly comfortable in your surroundings. May we all step outside soon and be awakened to a love surrounding us that passes all understanding.

Be in prayer this weekend that our Scrapbookers find something this weekend that they are in need of. Also keep Miles (one of our camp dogs) in your prayers. He is having some problems that the vet hasn't figured out yet.

This week at Lakeshore 2/6-12

2011-02-11T17:30:00.000-06:00

The weather just keeps toying with your emotions, doesn't it. On the weekend, you go outside in your short sleeved football jersey before the game, and it feels nice. You think about all the things that you'll do next week and the weeks to come, now that it's finally getting warm. Then Monday comes, and you forget what the word warm means. When the snow started falling at Lakeshore Monday afternoon, it didn't seem like the kind of snow that would keep students and civil servants out of work all week, but you know what they say about looks and deception.

The Conference's Licensing School for Local Ministers was here for most of the week. This is a class giving education to lay leaders who are getting into the ministry to serve as a local pastor or part-time pastor. This lays the foundation for them. The pastors got to do a lot of walking in the snow, because there was no other option for getting to the dining hall once the snow dropped. It was nice sitting in that warm dining hall around the table with this group, beginning this new step of their lives, hearing the stories of parents and grandparents that inspired them to this work, among many other topics of conversation.

The snow and ice was so thick for a few days that the kitchen staff couldn't make it in to prepare meals. Martha, packed an overnight bag, snuggled up on the couch in the Administration Building, and had a camp sleepover. The next morning, Martha, Bill, my wife Allyson (who was also off work), and I teamed up to make breakfast. During that time, I took our dog, Digby, outside for a bathroom break. I was walking on the road that circles the hill. I was looking out onto the river, which is so blue right now with the white snow backdrop. I could hear gulls and ducks in the distance. Suddenly, I heard a bird noise that was definitely not one of the birds I'm used to hearing. They seemed to come quick out of nowhere, then perched right on the branch of a tree in front of me--two bald eagles. It is the closest I have ever been to a bald eagle, and here were two just yards from me. I was very still. Somehow, Digby realized it was in his best interest to be quiet as well. I watched them, amazed, for a few minutes. I could see them ruffling their white tail feathers, turning their heads back and forth to observe the landscape that they are king and queen of.

I had to share this with the rest of the staff, so I backed very slowly down the road, up the steps near the gazebo, and into the sunroom. Martha and Allyson got to catch a very good view of them both before they glided away towards Eva Beach. Martha said, "I know it's going to be a good day today. We haven't even eaten breakfast, and I've already seen two bald eagles."

We had two big snows this week. One was slushy and stuck to everything. You can tell which way the wind blew by the snow plastered on the west side of the trees. The next was a dry, cold snow. This snow is like cold, dry sand. You kick it, and it flies like beach sand. I walked on the waterfront beach after this snow storm, and it was only slightly different from walking in the sand after we've just had a brand new load of sand delivered. I stood there for a time, looking at that deep blue water, feeling that cold wind from the river, hearing the crunch of the snow under my feet.

I love being the first to walk through after a good snow. You can track every living thing that has been through since the snow. Those marks are where two squirrels in chase, came down from one tree and crossed the ground to another. This space is where songbirds searched the ground for something to take up to their nests. Allyson and I followed fox prints that led to and ended in a culvert of a driveway near our house. You can see all these stories in your mind from these tracks. This weekend, the snow will melt, even from the deepest reaches of the woods. It will climb back to the 60s and many will pray that this is the start of spring, no looking back. Before we know it, it will be July, and we, in our sweat and sunburn, may think back to these times and take comfort in the memories of cold noses and ears.

Many of these stories will stick in our minds, though the prints melt away. We will glamorize the stories we like, keeping what we want to keep and throwing out what we don't like--it's all perspective, right? But, some of these things, there is no doubt. Like that time in a worship when everything makes sense and you know without doubt there is a God in this moment and you know no better feeling. We have seen glimpses of this even in the frustration of schedules and plans thrown out by snow. We don't know what we'll do about those missed days or maybe even how we'll get home tonight if the car won't move. But, something tells us today will be a good day. There were two bald eagles just outside our window.

This weekend, we are doing a Confirmation Retreat for youth in the Conference. Many pastors, youth directors, and district superintendents are helping us out. Be in prayer for the process these young people have committed to. Hope your weekend is a nice one.

This week at Lakeshore 1/23-29

2011-01-28T15:08:00.000-06:00

As the sun inches closer and close to the west on this Friday, we are warming up and drying off. It seems that regardless of whether there has been snow or not, it's been marshy outside. There's no sense in sweeping the floors--you will bring something in the very next time. Your shoes are always wet and your socks moist. Up until the past two days, the sun has been in hiding. On our most recent snow (which, for my money, has been the prettiest yet) I was walking home and the sky looked like polished silver against the white backdrop of trees and hills. But the sun came out to melt the snow and dry the ground. You've got a shot not having cold feet now.

It's been another slow week at camp, but it is all about to pick up for us. We have weekend groups pretty steady all the way up to summer camp. The floors of the Conference Center have been buffed to where they seem to shine even when the lights are off. The camp is waiting for life to return just like the woods surrounding us. This weekend will deliver that to us--and I'm not just referring to the sunshine and higher temperatures. Our Summer Staff and Counselors from 2010 will be in for a reunion. We'll have a chance to catch up and reminisce.

I remember the feeling of reunion, when I was in college. It had been 5 months since we had finished the summer, and many things had happened in all of our lives. We had had high and low times. Some of those summer couples hadn't made it, and some were still going strong. Haircuts had changed for some, majors had changed for others. Some would come back next summer, while others were moving on to something new. It was cold at camp and the trees were leafless. There was things very different about the camp than when we left. Instead of having tans or sunburns with shorts and flip flops, we were bundled up. But, we all longed to be back, however we could get it. Things were not the same in the outside world for any of us. It wasn't necessarily bad, but it was different. And, we missed what we had had at the Shore. We wanted to get back to that place with the people we knew understood it the same way we did. If we could have that--even just a weekend of it--it might carry us through a few more months of winter and spring classes.

I hear so many people talking about that feeling you get, driving down Highway 191, finishing the home stretch of the trip. The way you perk up, you heart rate picks up, maybe even tingles rush through. I know some people who have a specific song they always play as they near camp. It is a homecoming for so many. There will be many with those feelings this weekend, coming back to the place where things seem to make more sense, where they feel a little truer to who they want to be. We will turn on the heat and the lights in the buildings and strike up a fire when they get there. We'll put a slide show of 2010 photos on the projector, and we'll load as many people onto those library couches as we can fit, just like we did on the weekends of the summer.

We'll remember a lot of the things that happened a few months ago, when we worked together to help 2000 campers find God out in the woods. But, there'll be a little more going on than just remembering the past. We'll write our next chapter of our time at this place. There'll be some time behind us, ahead of us, and look around at what is right here, right now. The smiling faces of our friends, the water lapping of the shore, the trees reaching up to the sky all around us--it'll be there for us again to enjoy.

This week we have our Summer Staff/Volunteer reunion and the Aldersgate UMC Youth Group. We're excited to be hosting groups again after this winter freeze. Keep us in your prayers and we'll do the same. Next week, the Lakeshore staff will be at a Camp Leader's Conference, so this week at camp will return February 11.

Tree Climbing near the Creek

2011-01-26T15:18:00.000-06:00

Tree Climbing near the Creek

Earlier this month, Lisa Elder and Preston Wright came out to climb a tree. They recently got trained to treeclimb at Lakeshore. If you're interested in climbing some trees here, contact us. We love taking people up into the canopy. We also want to hold trainings for people to climb on their own and even facilitate climbs. Let us know if you're interested.

This week at Lakeshore 1/16-22

2011-01-21T11:11:00.000-06:00

In a place like Tennessee, the weather is usually sporadic enough that you can have a new topic of conversation each week. It's bitter cold one week, mild the next, icy after that, then slushy but manageable, on and on. This consistency is enough to make a weekly update a bit difficult when the camp is still relatively quiet. It was cold again this week, and it snowed again. "Yeah, tell me something new."

There is a general grumpiness begining to surface all over the place about this winter we are having. When people walk in the doors you are likely to hear desires for the end of winter. It is sort of like a puppy, I guess. Those first few times with the puppy, he is cute and adorable. He's fluffy and clumsy, and everything he does is so innocent and new to behold. But, by the second week or so, the realities of the puppy take center stage over the cuteness. You are cleaning up what you might have referred to as "uh-ohs" last week. You aren't calling them that this week. A week ago, you might have said, "Oh look honey, he's playing with your sock. Isn't that adorable." You aren't saying that this week when your sock has a slobbery hole in it. Nor are you too excited, when at 4:00am you are waking up to let the dog out or hearing him bark when the heating unit next door comes on. You ask yourself what on earth you were thinking, hoping that this thing be a part of your life.

And, so it goes, with the snow. If a winter goes by without one, we feel short-changed. But, nothing is completely wonderful, cute, picturesque, or other positive type of adjective. We have gotten it out of our system now. We've made our snowman, we've taken our pictures, we've looked up and the sky and spun around like we're in a movie musical. Enough, already.

Corky is outside the Administration Building, spreading salt and shoveling snow out from the drive, to possibly prevent any accidental ice-skating just before you enter the office. Martha decided she did not want to try to drive back up the hill this evening to get home, so she walked down to camp this morning. Travis commented on how this particular snow would be good for sledding. On the hill next to the Administration Building, there is a fairly clear slope that goes down to the soccer field/prayer labyrinth area. I can remember winters past, when we got out and sledded down this hill. We did not have sleds, so we used mail trays that were left over from the last bulk mailing. This hill was just tall enough to give you a scare and make the most timid bail out before reaching the bottom. I remember one evening as it got dark, sliding down the hill in a mail tray and wiping out at the very bottom, just before the woods began. I layed down on my back, almost submersed in the snow and looked up at the stars. The cold wasn't an uncomfortable cold--it was near pleasant. I wondered if I could sleep there, bundled up, surrounded by snow and stars.

This snow has been different from the last one. The last one was very powdery and light. This one is a bit slushier and heavy. The snow stuck to the branches, and as you walk through the woods, the trees look like they are made of crystal. It is a strange world to walk through--one you don't see for most of the year. I hope that it is melted away enough by next Friday that our group can make it in. Reality says that if we don't start getting groups in, it will be difficult to pay the bills and keep this place running. Reality says that those icy roads tend to deter visitors, and probably for good reason. But, a snowy world is one best enjoyed as a more fantastical world. Not a world of deadlines and necessities--a world of wonder. A world of frozen sillouetes that look nothing like you've seen all year. Snowmen and snowballs and all sorts of fun. The thoughts that you might even just lay down for the night and rest in this cold powdery blanket, because it is so foreign and exciting. For just a little bit longer, I'd like to hold on to these thoughts.

May God bless you wherever you happen to be snowed in.

This week at Lakeshore 1/9-15

2011-01-14T14:19:00.000-06:00

It has been another quiet week at camp. Until today, we've been in a deep freeze from the snowfall that started our week. I can't think of many other weather events that affect us like snowfall. It slows us down. You walk into the office and are content to look at the snow and talk about it. It seems natural that work is not going to be as pressing for anyone in the world (even if it is). The snow hung around all week, staying powdery. You could still kick the snow and see it spread like dust, just yesterday. The sun has been around all of Friday, and all but the well shaded snow is turning to slush.

There was so much hope and excitement when the snow came and schools and workplaces got out. We are still kids underneath, aren't we? Even so, I've noticed peoples' patience waning as the week has progressed. More and more are hoping for school to start back, facebook messages addressed to the snow (does the snow have a facebook profile?) are begging to get to go back to work. We, of course, have things that have to be done.

Alyssa Jones, this year and last year's Wilderness Director, spent much of the week with us painting the walls of our Prayer Chapel. She painted wooded scenes from pictures taken around camp. Later she will paint verses into these scenes subtly in the way that Van Gough sneaks a dwarf into his iris painting. This is a piece of our project to renovate the Prayer Chapel. I received a call from Ann Jeffords this week, telling me she has begun working on a stain glass window that will eventually be in the Prayer Chapel as well. She is using, as a model, a picture with the old cross on the Boy Side Vesper Area with the lake in the background. She is using one of my favorite verses from Job 12 in it as well. We hope, when it is all done, you will have the feeling you have sat down in the middle of the woods and have a solitary place to pray.

I was walking to the Conference Center this week, and saw a piece of ice near the shore about the area of a small room. When I came back out, I noticed that it had turned a little. It looked as if it had broken free from a sheet of ice formed between the mainland and a small island. We had our own little iceberg adrift in the river until the sun finishes it off. I've also noticed a pretty large hawk spending time with us the past few weeks. We perches in a high trees until you get too close. Then he flaps his large, strong wings about 3 times and glides with ease across the sky nearly a half mile away.

As I look out the window, I see only snow left on the sides of the roof that never get sunlight, and the low points on the land shielded by hillside. Most schools are back in session and most employees are back at their jobs. We nudge the child-like excitement to the side when we realize the consequences of idle hands for too much time. Do you really want to still be in school in late June? Do you really want to catch up on office work until 7:00pm each night? For most of us, no amount of sleeping in and afternoon snowman building is worth that. But there are those times when I do get stopped by something beyond my power and watch the hawk just to see where he will finally land. I wonder what it must be like to fly like that.

Groups will be joining us soon. Enjoy your holiday if you get it. But don't forget who we honor with it. Until next week...

This week at Lakeshore 1/2-8

2011-01-10T17:14:00.000-06:00

This week, we've seen a pretty wide range of weather, considering it's the first week of January. It's been very cold, very mild, very windy, or very sunny depending on which day you're remembering. We are having our first retreat groups since Christmas and Culture Day, so as Epiphany comes and goes, the maintenance staff is getting the last of the Christmas decorations back in the closet for another year. The trees have been disassembled and returned to the boxes. The nativity sets have been carefully wrapped in newspaper and put back in the box. All that's left of the celebration is the spare needle in the corner, missed by the brooms or glitter that the vacuum didn't manage to suck up.

For much of the week, Josh cleared everything off the floors in the Conference Center and buffed the floor. When you walk through, there is a shine that you might not even realize. You stand there and know that something is different, but you can't put your finger on what it is. The room just feels newer. You feel like you are stepping into something for the first time. As the weeks go on, shoes will drag across the floor, drinks will be spilled, and dirt will make it's way back, despite our best efforts. We'll forget what it can look like until it's buffed again, and we hardly recognize it.

Lisa Elder and Preston Wright came to visit this week to do some tree climbing at camp (they have recently been trained here). We were worried about the weather from the forecasts, but it turned out to be warmer than we expected. We got our lines in a beech tree near the creek and began to climb. As we ascended the wind picked up, then settled down, over and over. It would occasionally come in gusts, and you had the feeling of a wind chime, dangling from a high branch. It's an exhilarating experience. When we got about 30-35 feet above the ground, we set a treeboat (a sturdy hammock, designed specifically to be put in a tree). Lisa relaxed in it, and I remember her saying, "I am so happy right now." It was very nice, from our vantage point on the branches of this large tree, looking at this valley we know so well with new eyes.

Towards the end of the week, the cold really set in. By the time our weekend groups arrived, it became clear that we would not see temperatures too far above freezing. During one of the very cold nights, I walked home around 1:00am. Counselor Certification had just gone to bed, and I was ready to get to my warm bed. I bundled up with toboggan, gloves, and vest coat to make the journey home, and I had your typical cold weather stance--head down, arms stuffed in pockets. The wind was blowing on my face, and I could feel my whole body getting colder. Then, for some reason, I looked up to the sky and saw the stars. The moon was nowhere to be seen, and there was a steady view of stars throughout the sky. There's something about a cold, winter sky full of stars that's different from any other time of year. You feel like there's not as much out there. The animals are tucked away somewhere keeping warm. The trees have gone dormant and dropped their leaves. On a late night, you feel as if you are the only person in the whole world. Then you look up and see thousands of stars in shapes even you vaguely recognize. I began to notice the cold less, lifting my head to the sky, just to be in awe of what was there in front of me. All alone in the whole world, except for the stars and the one who made us all.

This weekend we Emmanuel UMC youth and Counselor Certification were our guests. Be careful enough to enjoy this winter weather and may God bless your time.

This week at Lakeshore 12/26 - 1/1

2010-12-31T12:04:00.000-06:00

We are drawing near the end of a strange set of weeks here at camp, as many of you are. Though you may go back to work in this week between Christmas and New Years, there is a feeling that all has slowed down. Some have not gone back to their jobs. It is harder to get in touch with people. It is as if we are still on a holiday, only we are in the office. I'm sure the people in retail and food service feel quite the opposite right now, though. Still, were at Lakeshore, the sounds you here come from the birds, the wind, and the sounds in your head. I don't mean the maybe-you-should-see-a-specialist kind of sounds in your head. I'm talking about memories. You walk into the rooms of the camp, to the special places of the camp, and you hear the sounds you remember from the past. The clanks of chairs and hundreds of conversations in the cafeteria. You can hear the music in our worship areas. You can hear the fire crackle even where there isn't. Then you snap back to attention and realize there is little more than silence today.

As I write this, it is the last day of 2010. I'm sure many of you are doing what I do at the end of the year--look back on the year past, evaluate, celebrate, mourn, and look ahead. As I walked through the woods on this unseasonably warm day, I thought about how this day is one we invented. It is the last day of a year we created. But, I still feel like it is the time for me to look back and evaluate.

What will stay with me from this day. Will it be the date or the 65 degree temperatures? Will it be a group of friends gathered around a television watching a mechanical ball drop or those times spent contemplating what has happened the last 364 days? Or will they all melt into each other to the point that I won't really tell one from the other?

I remember a time this year, during a backpacking camp that a group of us were out getting water. We had walked a long way to get the water, and we were very thirsty. It had made us moody and quiet, except for a few. It was hot and dry. We finally made it to a creek, and we filtered water to drink. It was such a relief, and we immediately had more life. Fairly soon, the weather changed. We felt the wind pick up and the skies darkened. Deep in the woods, miles from any other people a storm thundered in, shook the trees, and dropped rain all over us. Our reactions varied from person to person, from anxiety to frustration to all out joy. There we stood with no choice but to be rained on. So, we did. We gathered the water for us and the rest of our crew. Our clothes were wet and much of our gear was.

Soon the dark clouds cleared, and we watched them cross the river over to Middle Tennessee. We gathered our things together, packed up our full water bottles, and got back on the trail to hike back to our campsite. We did not talk very much about what had just happened. But, it stays with me. I remembered how it felt to be out in the wind and rain, to see the trees bending. To be surrounded by water after seeking it for so long with so much of myself. These things have not left me, and I hope they have not left the ones I shared it with.

May 2011 give you plenty of times that will stay with you. Let's hope this is a year we grow to know God a little better.

This week at Lakeshore 12/12-18

2010-12-17T16:29:00.000-06:00

For most of the week at Lakeshore, we have seen 3 colors: white, grey, and brown. We got the snow that so much of Tennessee saw, and though it got above freezing, the hillsides were shielded enough by the clouds that it lasted until the rains came. There is something very somber and beautiful to walking outside during these times. If you find yourself walking in the woods during this time, you are much more likely to be alone. There are times you might believe you are the only one left on earth during these winter walks. The sound of the railroad in the distance or a plane flying over might convince you otherwise, but if you can shut them out, it becomes a very intimate moment.

The Lakeshore staff had their Christmas party this week down at the Alford Recreation Center. Every staff person and their family came to the event, and Corky cooked steak and chicken with his special sauce and baked sweet potatoes. Everyone else brought pot-luck, and there was definitely plenty left over. When you take everyone on staff and throw in their children or grandchildren, it makes for a large group of people. Allyson and I brought our dog, Digby, and he was a big hit with all the children. We think Martha's grandchildren may have been plotting to kidnap him, and if they had just had a little more time, we may have seen him lured out to their car with pieces of leftover steak, never to be heard from again.

As I walk to the Conference Center, one of the few constants are the Herons standing just off the shore, looking out onto the river. There is generally one of two, very still, standing watch over our section of the river. If I make enough noise or move fast enough, they make a loud guttural squawk, and float over sky a little farther down, out of my sight. Their color matches the greys of this season, though technically they are blue.

We've seen very little of what we'd call a blue sky at camp this week. It has been a very steady grey. It is the color that the sky will no doubt be by about 4:30 regardless of clouds. So, this week has seemed like a perpetual winter sunset throughout the day. You have to look at the clock to be sure of the time this week. The sky is little help. That doesn't make the sky something you don't want to admire, though. As I was walking home one evening, and hour or so after the sun had set, I looked across the ridges, to the river, and saw the grey clouds over the river and the hollars. You could see the leafless arms of the deciduous trees and the patches of green where conifer grooves stood. The green was the most vivid color on the map of white, grey, and brown. The wind blew strong that night, and I was glad that I bundled up. As I remember that scene and the feelings I had, I can hear the words of the hymn by one angelic voice:

In the bleak midwinter, frost wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
in the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold him, nor earth sustain;
heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
the Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
but his mother only, in her maiden bliss,
worshiped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
if I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
yet what I can I give him: give my heart.
As these days get shorter and shorter, and we see the light of the sun less and less, take comfort in the warmth you have and the promise that the light will return. Merry Christmas to everyone. This week at Lakeshore will be back in two weeks.

This week at Lakeshore 12/5-11

2010-12-10T15:55:00.000-06:00

We have reached what some might call the slow time at camp. We don't have any sizable groups to speak of until the first full weekend in January. So, the weekend work at camp has slowed to a halt. In my first year of work here, when the position, Program Director, was still being established, I had trouble finding things to do during this time. Many staff people take their vacation time now, so I found myself alone in the office many days. I spent some times of that first year playing Nintendo games from my childhood on the computer, hoping that someone would call. These days, I would hardly call our days slow. The phone calls have diminished, and there does seem to be more of a quiet passing over the camp, but there is much to do. This is the time of year to do those things you have put off. It is the time to make phone calls, plan programming. It is the time to gather things up for later.

The maintenance staff has spent much of the week cutting wood. We have dropped a few trees that posed some danger to power lines and people. In the area of land where the Calhoun and Hopper lodges now stand, there used to be a fairly thick grove of trees. Of course, when the lodges were built, the trees were leveled, then cut up, burned, or buried under the soccer field. A few were left that stood below the lodges, but many of those died in the subsequent years. I guess the disturbance in the ground that the lodges brought was too much for their root systems. A large white oak along with a few shag bark hickories stop baring leaves a few summers back, and that's the beginning of the end. Before long, they would shed twigs, then branches, then limbs, and in a worst case scenario, trunk. So, the power company came out, dropped the power lines, then dropped the dead trees along with a few pines in the same place that they said needed to go as well.

So, Corky, Travis, Jim, and Josh have had to turn a few 60 foot trees into manageable firewood logs . It has taken about a week to get them all cut and split. So, if you make it to a Lakeshore winter function and are lucky enough to find yourself in front of a warm fireplace or a camp fire, it is likely going to be from one of these trees.

One of the basketball goals in the Alford Recreation area has been lowered. These goals are usually locked, so they will stay at 10 feet, but this one, for whatever reason, has been lowered to at least 8 feet. It will be in our best interest to get the goal raised soon, before one too many dunkers rests his/her body weight on it. The goal is about the height of a basketball goal that was in my parents' basement for many years. When I was a teenager, I loved to play basketball, and my dream was to dunk. The cards were against me, because I'm 5'10" on a good day and was not blessed with any special jumping abilities. I felt (still do feel) that I could dunk if I worked hard enough at it (there was a guy, Spud Webb, who was 5'4" and dunked) I could train myself to dunk. It was challenging but not unheard of. But, in the mean time, I could practice my dunking technique on a smaller goal. So, I asked my dad if we could build a goal in our basement, and he consented. And, over time, I got pretty good at dunking on a short goal. I could do 360s, windmills, behind the back, tomahawks, and bounce and catch moves from any part of the basement. All that time, though, I was not training enough to be able to dunk on a regular sized goal. It would have taken way more time in the gym and on the courts than I was willing to devote.

Gary had surgery on his wrist this week over a fall that you could probably call a textbook case of things not to do on a ladder. Gary was hanging garland on the gutters outside the Conference Center. He leaned off the ladder to try to stand on the black railing on our ramps, started to spin, and had a fall. He came in holding his arm in a very noticeable amount of pain. He is very lucky to just have a broken arm. We all occasionally make these ill-advised decisions, probably in the name of wanting to just do something ourselves. We fool ourselves into thinking, "We got it," and do some things we would never let someone else do on their own.

How interesting how what's important can change. One moment you think that the secret to happiness will be to throw that basketball through the rim with the authority of a powerful man, whenever you get that open look at the basket. You want so bad to do what you see Michael Jordan do, that no one can defend even when they know it's coming. Then you are looking back, understanding the amount of work it would have taken to do that. You look down at your arm, bent the wrong way, pulsing pain, then look up at the garland yet to be strung, and you suddenly have a new priority. You take walks, you read things, you are drawn into something new. You never would have thought you might spend hours learning about trees or history or wind patterns or art therapy or conservation, but here you are soaking it up.

You are rushing to the hospital. You are planning what to read this evening. You are making time for the one you love, who you've committed your life to. You cooking dinner--you never thought you would cook. You are exercising, because you can't take letting yourself go anymore. You are making time to stop each day and have some quiet time. How could you have possibly imagined you'd be doing this thing in this moment with these people. It is a dream. You have been traveling to this place for a while. And, you have farther to go.

I can remember years ago, scouting out the area where the Hopper Lodge stands with my good friend Steven. It was overgrown with trees and vines. There were piles of leaves nearly a foot deep in places. We were scouting this place for a worship for an upcoming camp. I had never really walked in this spot before. It was so overgrown and wild. It took some work to get a place cleared for worship. On that spot there was an old slab of concrete. What it used to be, I can only guess--I've never talked to anyone who recalls it. Then, we could have hid there for days without being found. Today, we would be in one of Hopper's downstairs bedrooms. The trees we stood under are buried under the soccer field, burned, or on their way to being firewood. Then I could not have imagined a two story lodge would be where we stood and did a worship on a windy summer night.

Where will we be tomorrow, a few years from now, decades in the future? I know about as well as I did that day I asked the guy in the gym to put together a program for me to train to dunk. It is disappointing that I never threw the ball down on a regular goal, and it's pretty certain I never will. But, those things that have come instead, have been sprinkled with pleasant surprises. May our surprises be pleasant this season, regardless of how expected they may be.

Come to Christmas and Culture Day

2010-11-24T14:37:00.000-06:00

Here's one more last minute plug for Christmas and Culture Day at Lakeshore. Registrations are low right now, and we're hoping to have a good turn-out. This year we will be celebrating Christmas and France. We'll have crafts, songs, dances, historical and literary tidbits, and, of course, french food. Just $18 per person gets you in for the day with lunch and dessert. Registration forms are at http://www.lakeshoreuma.com/. Give us a call to find out more, or pass it along to the people in your life who have nerdy, fascinations with Christmas or World Geography.

This week at Lakeshore 11/21-27

2010-11-24T14:26:00.001-06:00

We've been on a roller coaster of cold and warm, rain and sunshine, and it looks like this roller coaster will run several more times before the steel bar lifts and they let us off. Life is slowing down at the shore, and Christmas and Culture Day is the only big undertaking we have until the new year, as far as groups go. As I look out the window at the grey sky behind orange and brown leaves, wondering if we'll get more showers today, I think back over the year at all the things myself and this place have been blessed with. Here are a few things in which we can be thankful:

-The summer sunsets near 7:30pm that change the sky over the waterfront to orange, purple, and peach colors.

-The chance on the first day of each camp to see kids get out, and look at their faces, excited to be at Lakeshore

-Sitting on a rocking chair at the fireplace, on a cold night, with a group of friends, sipping hot drinks

-The chance to know Glenn Anderson

-Finally getting our sailboat out into the water, and then that feeling when the wind catches the sails just right and pushes it through the water, the only sound you hear being water and air.

-Watching around 30 college age people grow in their faith and do the work God called them to.

-The harvest moons that lay low on the horizon, papery yellow, casting a trail of light on the river.

-Seeing a group of deer in early morning or evening. They startle at first, but stay a little while, looking at you, trying to decide if you mean any harm.

-The first time you get to swim in the pool after it is opened.

-The amazing changes taking place in our prayer chapel, made possible by volunteer labor and donations.

-Our housekeeping, kitchen, and maintenance staff, who keep this place going from week to week, behind the scenes.

-Our fruit trees producing fruit for the first time.

-The view out the sunroom windows.

-The work of the NOMADS, a Methodist group of retired RV travelers, who go from camp to camp doing work projects.

-The abundance of food to eat, especially the strawberry butter and chocolate chip cookies.

-The hugs you get when an old friend shows up at camp.

-The reminder every know and then, that you get here that there are safe places in this world.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you.

This week at camp 11/14-20

2010-11-19T13:23:00.000-06:00

This has been a week that makes you want to go inside. If it wasn't raining, it was overcast and gloomy. There's been a chill in the air that's just enough to get the extremities cold. If you're next to a window, you notice it's a little colder than in the rest of the room. These are the types of days you would like to stay at home under a blanket. You'd have hot soup for lunch with a toasted sandwich. You'd drink hot tea throughout the day. At night, you bundle up on the couch with someone you love and watch a movie. You go through the cabinet hoping you have some hot chocolate left from last winter.

Martha has taken a cold or some other bug that looks like a cold. So, if you called the camp this week to book anything, you were likely greeted with a slightly deeper, more sultry voice on the phone. It's the time of year when you hear more coughing coming from people's offices. Those grips when you walked in the door during the summer about the humidity and sun have been replaced by how damp, dreary, and cold it is. You find yourself rubbing your hands together or keeping them in your pockets when they aren't absolutely necessary. We have begun preparing fires in the fire place at the Conference Center, and it is this weather that draws you to it like summer moths to the blacktop light posts.

On Thursday, the Benton County Chamber of Commerce Adult Leadership Class come out to Lakeshore to get a tour and do teambuilding. Of the 6 we had, only one had actually stayed at Lakeshore before. We did the Low Ropes event where the group has to balance the large platform built sort of like a see-saw, get everyone on, and hold it steady for a three-count. The group came up with an ingenious idea and finished fairly fast, but they asked for a new challenge. They then had to do the same thing in reverse--get the platform balanced, then get everyone off without throwing it off balance. They found that one a little more frustrating, and, like most groups, expected to get it faster. We had a great time, though, talking afterwards, then walking around the camp, learning more about what Lakeshore does. I felt that the place had a relaxing affect on everyone. It was nice, even to me, just to walk outside under the falling brown and orange leaves, with a mist on the river north of us. Good to get away from our offices for a little while to stand back and access things.

The maintenance crew has spent most of the week setting up tables for the Scarpbooking Retreat this weekend. We have pulled tables from all over the camp and filled up the Conference Center to where it looks like a maze of fold-up tables. There were scrapbookers waiting in the parking lot when the first staff got in this morning. Many will spend most of the weekend at their table working through memories and finding the best way to present them for loved-ones to see.

And, as our weekend groups drift in, for a time it seems, we'll have a little relief from the dreariness. The sun is out now, and we are supposed to see 70 degrees tomorrow. The urge to hide under blankets and warm mugs will not be nearly as strong. There will be something, though, to seek comfort from. There is always something. You may even already be thinking of what it is right now. Some days, though, you are lucky enough to go walking out the door and find yourself surrounded by it. When that isn't the case, you hope you can find a leftover packet in the back of the cabinet. Or, you hope that relief will come before you reach wits end. We hope too, sometimes not soon enough, that we might be able to give that comfort to someone else. Maybe we'll manage to pull some sunlight out of our pockets when it is time.

This weekend we have our Scrapbooking Retreat, Counselor Certification, a Wilderness Camper Reunion, and Whitehall Baptist Church Youth. Thank God for everything good, and enjoy your weekend--we may not see 70 again for a while.

This week at Lakeshore 11/7-13

2010-11-12T14:33:00.002-06:00

We're into our first week of earlier sunrises and sunsets at the camp. It's that time when you get out of work, and it's already dark. You have these evenings where you feel like you've accomplished so much, because you went home immediately. There's not quite as much to do outside when you can't see. And so, we go home, we eat our supper, clean the dishes, and expect it to be bed time, only to find it's 7:00pm. These types of days keep you honest, I guess. They encourage you to get up earlier and go to sleep when the chores are done. It's just light bulbs and late-night tv that foil a perfect plan.

Our adult backpacking retreat finished up this Sunday. They dealt, from what I hear, pretty graciously with nightly temperatures in the 20s. The camp dogs decided to follow the group into the wilderness, including 9 year old Miles. It sounds like he slept the soundest out of the group. It's interesting all the things we get ourselves into without realizing. I'm sure Miles was under the impression that this would be much like Gary and Vickie's 45 minute afternoon walks. Then a few miles along with a 600 foot elevation change later, you're sleeping out in the middle of the woods. The exercise was probably good for him.

The coots have returned to the little bay in front of Lakeshore's waterfront. These are ducks that aren't really the most prized by hunters and aren't really very much to look at, but they come in hoards every year to visit. They could be with us as long as 3-4 months before they move on. They are dark colored ducks with almost white bills. They gather together in 100s, and if you watch closely, you'll see them diving under water and popping back up. On a quiet day, sitting by the waterfront, you hear them cooing and quacking, splashing around in the water. The sound travels and echoes. It's very peaceful. Then when a large group gets spooked, they take off flying, and the noise sounds like an avalanche of marbles. When you're near them, you sense a great energy.

Yes, you can feel this with many of the animals that are active at the shore. The squirrels are moving with more energy. You'll hear them barking and squawking at each other more regularly. The giant group of cow birds that have been here for several weeks moves as one thing from groups of trees, back and forth. I was out walking the other day in the woods and came upon them. As I got too close, they took out, and it was like a wind whipping through the trees. They are busy gathering, eating, probably mating too. They can feel the change that is coming. If we pay attention, we can see it plainly too. The days are getting shorter. The leaves that are left are mostly brown--even the oaks have lost most of their green. We've had a taste of the cold, but more is coming.

I have seen excitement this week over the coming change. In the quiet that comes with these shorter days, when we aren't running lawnmowers to keep the grass at bay, you can hear the other parts of the world getting ready for something. Sure, there are signs of things coming when you walk into Wal-Mart too (it has been since early October. What's up with that?). But, this excitement feels much more genuine. That feeling from within that change is coming. A feeling that stirs you to action. A feeling that you may not understand, but that you can not ignore. Yes, something's coming. We may not know exactly what it is, but, like the squirrels and birds, there is something inside calling us to move.

This weekend we welcome the Shanklins, Murray 1st UMC Youth, Savannah 1st UMC Youth, and the United Methodist Women's Fall Fling. Keep them in your prayers.

This week at camp 10/24-30

2010-10-29T15:59:00.003-05:00

These are wonderful days to be alive at Lakeshore. It is that time in the year when it's just warm enough and just cool enough. You could wear just about any type of clothing, and, at some point in the day, it will be appropriate. As the day closes, you look through the forest, through the golds and browns of the fall leaves, and that orange sun light creeps through the cracks. Far away, it mixes together and you can't tell the difference between leaf and pure light. These are the days that make you want to go out and go for a walk. The blue water of Kentucky Lake is so crisp right now. There has been a pretty constant breeze all week, so you see ripples moving all over the surface of the water. When the white birds fly and land in the water, that bright white against that dark blue is a joy to look at.

West Tennessee Camp Bluebird joined us this week, and their theme was a Wild West set up. Greeting you at the bell on top of the hill has a cloth horse with yarn hair. There has a plywood cemetery next to the gazebo walkway. And, there was a fake campfire on the floor of the conference center. The Bluebirds definitely know how to decorate a camp. I really wish I could get them here for a week of Junior High during the summer. Whatever the them is, there is enough decoration to make you feel some type of nostalgia. The Wild West theme reminds me of something Corky brings up periodically when we talk about dream trips. He tells of places where you can sign up to go on a cattle drive (sort of like the movie, City Slickers). You go to the ranch, get outfitted, meet your horse, then ride across the range, driving cattle like they did about 150 years ago. Even for camp people, that would be quite the culture shock, I'd imagine. Think about those freak out moments when you realize you can't get online, or eat whatever you want, or bathe the way you like. Think about all the spare time just spent on a horses back. There are parts of that that sound a little scary, but parts, to me, that sound like a dream come true. And, can't you just see Corky with cowboy hat and boots, a lasso beside him and bandanna around his need, yelling out, "Ya! Get on!," as he spurs his horse up a sandy plateau?

It rained on the Bluebirds as they came set up their decorations, which is never a fun way to set up the decorations you've spent months gathering and building. The rain was definitely needed, though. It was the first rain of consequence we've had in a long time. One of those good rains that soak the earth and the grass and leaves. One that takes down weak branches and washes things away. It was a rain has stayed with us this week. It was a nice morning, sitting in my office, watching the drops pour down the roof outside my window, with my pumpkin pie scented candle providing ambiance and nice smells. Louis Armstrong was playing in the background. If you're stuck in an office, typing on a laptop, it's a great way to have to do it.

Today, as we went outside to go to lunch, you could hear bird a lot of bird noises. We looked out and saw what must have been 100s, maybe even 1,000s of birds in the trees above the Low Ropes course and holes 17 and 18 of our Disc Golf Course. They were squawking and bouncing from branch to branch, almost weighing the trees down, there were so many. Someone said that they must be migrating, passing through. I wanted to go out and sit near them (not directly under them) and watch to see what all these birds are doing. It seems to me to be fascinating to see them hoping from branch to branch, interacting with so many other birds. Now, at the end of the afternoon, I look out with window and don't see any birds on those trees or hear them anymore. As quickly as they got together here, they were gone.

This week we've had two sets of volunteers come out to help us redo our prayer chapel. We had some old friends come up to put the base coat of paint on our walls that will eventually be a forest scene. Another set of old friends came out to begin work on a stain glass window that will someday grace the views of those who come to the chapel for a time of prayer. We are so blessed here, to have all these friends who travel through and give us this beauty that we will admire with eyes and then memory.

This weekend we have the Calvin House Youth and Purchase Area Sexual Assault Center Staff. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers. We hope you enjoy this weather.

Start your Christmas shopping at Goodsearch

2010-10-29T10:29:00.002-05:00

As online shopping gets amped up for the holidays, do us a quick and easy favor that will help Lakeshore. Go to www.goodsearch.com. This is a search engine that gives donations to charities each time you search. You type in Lakeshore United Methodist Assembly, hit the "verify" button, then click on the website you were planning to shop at. It can route you to many different online shopping sites such as amazon, ebay, best buy, and many many more. It doesn't cost anything extra, it doesn't change the price of what you buy. All you have to do is start at Goodsearch, and you give Lakeshore a great gift.

This week at Lakeshore 10/17-23

2010-10-22T15:18:00.002-05:00

It seems for the time being that Lakeshore is locked into a cruise control of perfect temperatures but very little rain. It is, for my purposes, the makings of a perfect day, weather wise. You start with the cool morning, it warms up over the course of the day, but not too much. Then, it cools down as you get ready to snuggle down under a few warm blankets. There's no rain or even mud on the ground, so you can go out as you please and enjoy temperatures that couldn't be better if you set the thermostat yourself. Ah, problems arise with our ideas of perfection. When you have weeks and weeks of no rain, it gets a little dangerous. We are at the point here, where any spark could light up the grass, which could light up the brush, which might even get the trees going. On top of that, we wonder how these trees that have been dry for so long will hold up if we have a strong rain and they soak up that extra weight so quickly. Martha was predicting earlier this week that the first decent rain we get, all the leaves left on the trees will drop, and we'll be left with bare branches.

The rains did come for just a few minutes this week, which is much more than we've had. It was enough to darken the blacktop outside the office, but not enough to wet the area under parked cars. This rain wasn't even strong enough to make you speed up when you're walking outside. It was, though, the most we've had in a long while. I imagine this rain hitting the ground, similar to using a water dropper on a hot skillet. Or that feeling when you're really thirsty and you go to a restaurant where they use small glasses. You drink it down the moment it reaches the table and have to wait, still thirsty, for the next time your server comes around.

We had a group from a teen recovery center out to do our zipline and giant swing. They were supposed to do our climbing tower, but when we got out there, for some reason, there were wasps all around the top of the tower. We opted for a non-wasp alternative and they kids seemed to have a good time. I was happy that we didn't have someone swarmed and stung 24 times as a rewarding for climbing to the top of the climbing tower. As I returned from our High Ropes area, after taking the course down, I noticed the group had still not left. I learned that one of the youth had left the group and hedded towards the woods. This, of course, happens from time to time when you work with youth of any age or background. You stick around long enough, and you'll have someone, for whatever reason, try to get away.

The recovery center's policy is to call law enforcement when this happens, so we quickly had a sheriff's deputy out searching. While this was going on, the youth made his way to a residence just down the road to a good friend of ours. The boy wanted to call his father, because he missed him and had not seen him in a long time. Our neighbor let him call, and the boy spent some time crying, talking to his father, who said that he could not come to get him, and that he would have to stay. Eventually it was put together where he was, and the sheriff kindly returned him to his supervisors, and he went back peacefully. It seemed he missed home enough that he would take off through the woods, unsure of what was waiting out there. Luckily, he knocked on the door of a friend.

You never know when you meet someone all the things they are carrying with them. One moment they are getting hooked into a zip line, flying across 500 feet of open air, looking down on the hills and valleys below. You look down and feel like a hawk swooping over patches of land that you can take or leave anytime you want. You might believe, for a second, you can pick up and fly away to anywhere at anytime. Just hours later are crying on the porch of a stranger, begging to get back to where you started.

You never know when the curtain might fall for you or someone else. The leaves on our trees are telling us their fall is coming. The maples are in their brilliant oranges and yellows these days. If you have a groove of nice sized ones, the sunlight is tinted, and it just makes you feel a little better to have that light on your shoulders. The oaks are holding on to green for now. But, we can tell the drop is coming. Sometime the wind will blow, the rain will return, or those stems will finally weaken and they will line the ground we walk on.

The wind and rain may push us too, carrying so many things good and bad. We know that there will probably come a time where it gets to be too much, and we will try our best to remove what we're carrying. We'll do all we can think to do, sometimes we'll grasp for whatever is there in front of us. And, we'll hope that we find a friendly face to accept us as strangers in strange lands, whether we're right or wrong. Until that time comes for us. Let's enjoy this weather that seems so perfect. It is all a gift.

This weekend we will have youth from Covenant, Covington, and Selmer UMC as well as members of Beech Bluff and Mount Pleasant UMCs. Let's pray we see God this weekend.

This week at Lakeshore 10/3-9

2010-10-08T15:13:00.002-05:00

We are debating in the office if we will ever see rain again. When you walk outside, nearly everything crunches under your feet. Things are crispy outside, because they haven't tasted water in close to a month. The oaks have really begun dropping acorns. You have to be careful, or you will get a pretty good knock from above. The squirrels are hard at work, storing up all the nuts they can. When you walk in the woods, you can hear them all around you. The high-strung head twitches and hops. The noise they stir up in the dry leaves will fool the untrained ear into thinking something much larger is in the woods. You spin around, looking for a deer or coyote, and you are happy inside that no one saw you get so startled by a squirrel.

Early this week, we had Memphis Conference Retired Methodist Ministers retreating with us. I found myself sitting out on the rocking chairs with a few of the retirees. We talked about hot summers and farming. We started on this past summer and how long the hot had lasted. They recalled the summers of '80 and '54 being hotter than this one. We talked about beans and cotton, how the farmers who went with cotton this year were doing pretty good, but the ones who planted beans didn't get much of a return. There's no telling how many times the rocking chairs have hosted these exchanges. Counselors and campers, reunions of old friends, and a young man listening like a 10 year old to the men talk about how things used to be.

That's one of the great things about Lakeshore--the way different worlds sometimes converge. Different ages, races, geographies, accents and on and on. All you have to do is sit down on a rocking chair and listen. There's no telling what you'll hear. Reports were what we heard on Thursday during our Board of Trustees meeting. We sat down to talk rules changes, budget concerns, and the past, present, and future of camp. As frequently happens, we went way over our scheduled time. We were slated to eat at 12:45, and I noticed the clock reading 1:00 with several reports left. Lots of talking going on when you bring in people like us to talk about camp.

Just outside our meeting room, the persimmon trees are loaded with ripe persimmons. The fleshy fruits look like mini-oranges, loading down the branches of the trees. But, they don't taste very citrusy. They have a very tart taste, and if you get one that isn't quite ripe yet, it's not very appetizing. I think the most frequent incarnation of persimmons on the dinner table is probably in jelly or jam form, because you can liberally add as much sugar as you want to them. No, we won't have to worry too much about kids sneaking onto our land to steal persimmons. The deer do love them though. You'll begin seeing persimmon seeds scattered all over in the upcoming weeks. I'll let you figure out how they get there.

I wonder how those trees got there. If they just came up naturally or if someone here at camp, decades ago, thought it'd be nice to have the persimmons near the waterfront, so the deer would have a tasty snack on the way to the river each morning. I think about the hill at camp and how it's changed from the time those retirees sit on the porch as campers until now when we sit out and talk about summers gone by. Those hot summers--'80 when I was only 2 years old, or '54 the year my mother was born. Jackie Wilson plays on the 50's channel of my radio, and I imagine that being the new music of a group of young kids much like the staff who just went back to school. Most of this group couldn't tell you what Jackie Wilson did. But they did both feel that heat. Both got to do a lot of sweating out here. We share that. We also get to share that love we felt from God as we sat out, listening to stories and seeing the leaves change.

This week we have an older Elementary Retreat, Memphis Conference Singles, and a few small groups camping out at our tent and trailer area (perfect weekend for camping). Hope your weekend is a good one.

This week at Lakeshore 9/26-10/2

2010-10-02T09:45:00.002-05:00

We've had wind this week. Strong and steady wind. It's the type of wind that calls you outside. The type of wind that enables you to open up your windows, turn off the heat and air, and let nature have a little more control of your body temperature. I love those days in the office when we cut things off and open the doors and windows. I can deal with the papers flying all over my office (it is my fault for having not filed them yet) and the occasional sudden door slam. There's a rythmn to it. The wind rises and falls. It's like you're rocking right there in your office.

With all this wind, no rain has come along with it. The world is so dry around here. when the wind blows, you can hear the leaves crinkling and rattling together. The beeches have begun to turn brown, and their leaves will stay that way until the spring. The sourwoods have begun to turn their deep red. With this lack of rain, they've issued a burn ban throughout the county, which is a shame considering the temperature. It is perfect right now to build a camp fire in the evenings. We ushered in October, one of our busiest months of the year. I have more ropes course groups in October than I do the rest of the fall combined. The familiar face of Men's Emmaus came in on Thursday. It's the Men's walk (the women will be here in a couple of weekends), and if you walk around long enough you'll hear claps following every introduction and notice there is a strange absense of clocks in the buildings.

The river has dropped a little more this week, and you see shoreline that has been under water for 4-5 months now. It is stripped of any grass, but the grass won't stay back for long. The docks leave their uniform, level lay and form to the terrain below them. You begin to see all the reasons we make the campers wear shoes during the summer: cinder blocks, driftwood, sometimes something strange like a folding chair, just out there somewhere in the river. But, this is a great place to walk around in the morning to discover all the animals who come for a morning drink. There will be deer prints, raccoon prints, possum prints, types of dogs and cats, birds of all size, and some that you just shrug your shoulders about.

A group from Camden put on an "Amazing Race," this morning where participants ran, boated, trekked, and ran an obstacle course. This was for all ages, and we had over 50 teams participate. I came down the hill with my dog, Digby, and there were people in under armour everywhere, running back and forth. There were children, teenagers, young adults, older adults, and it was exciting to see so many people out running around doing something good for their bodies. I know that I'm lucky to be in this place where any day of the week I can run down the road, canoe on the river, find my way down a trail, and so many other things. I love it when other people get a chance to see how fantastic it is to be here.

As I prepare for an upcoming class I'm taking, do the office work that needs to be done, and deal with issues like dry forest, I find myself, these weeks, really longing to be out more and more. I want to get the sail boat back out and see what it's like to really sail with a breeze. I want to go and sleep somewhere deep in the woods. I want to wake up at 4 in the morning, go down to the river, and watch all the animals come down for water. These things call to you, like wind. Slow and gentle, barely noticeable at first, but the then it kicks up strong and it sways the tops of the tallest trees. I hope that I make time to answer, at least a few of these invitations.

These groups picked a fantastic weekend to be with us: Men's Emmaus, UT Martin AOPi, Ebenezer UMC Mothers and Daughters, The Amazing Race, and Scott Arnold and friends. Hope your weekend is great too. Pray for us, we'll pray for you.

This week at Lakeshore 9/19-25

2010-09-24T14:17:00.002-05:00

I looked up the definition of "Indian Summer," on the Merriam-Webster website, because I never learned exactly when the period is said to occur. According to the dictionary website, an "Indian Summer," happens toward the end of fall or early in winter. As an interesting side note, the phrase is also used to describe a milestone achievement toward the end of one's career or life. It's interesting how an already figurative phrase can become a figurative phrase for something completely different again. Anyway, the purpose of this word search was to determine if I could refer to what we are experiencing now as an Indian Summer. As it turns out that I cannot, unless I'm being really loose with the definition, I am wondering what to call this heat wave that has returned, when it seemed we were in store for relief.

If walking by the now empty pool and recalling the sound of kids playing and loud music doesn't remind you of the summer we just finished, then maybe the high 90s temperatures with get your memory going. I walk out on a day like today and almost expect there to be a talent show tonight. It is 2:27, as I write this, so there should be a canteen coming up soon. I should probably go up to check in with my counselors, seeing how it's been, oh, a month and a half since I met with them. But, it's just the heat that's still going on, not summer. In fact, as Vickie's World Wildlife Fund calendar informs me (the month of September has a picture of a parrot on it) the first day of fall was yesterday (the 23rd). The leaves are falling, but the temperature is like me when I wanted to go off the high dive as a child. Once I was at the edge, faced with the fall, I decided I would rather very slowly inch my way back down the ladder.

Right now, we have Middle Tennessee Camp Bluebird (an adult aged camp for cancer survivors) as our guests. There are a fleet of golf carts transporting everyone back and forth from the main conference center to their cabins. They have a casino theme this year, so the conference center is decked out with poker chips, dice, and illustrations of slot machines. It's like we have our own Tunica here (minus the early bedtimes, lack of alcohol, and no actual gambling). It is a nice feeling to have a group here like this. I truly enjoy walking up the hill and sharing smiles with everyone who passes by you, because you all understand why you are here. The last time this group was here, was in the spring when we had the great rainstorm that flooded so much of Tennessee. They were stranded a day or so longer than originally planned. Martha tells me that some of them had shirts made about the experience that say, "Lord, deliver us from Eva." There is a chance of rain this weekend, but we aren't expecting it to be like last spring.

Earlier this week, the Program Committee of our Board came up for two days to do the annual Program Planning Meeting. Here we had the privilege of deciding the next year for Lakeshore. We set the summer schedule for next year and tentatively for 2012. We had to make cuts, but we still took a good bit of time to dream for the future. It is not an easy meeting to do--especially when you consider ours lasted from 10:00am to 10:00pm. Sometimes these things last a little longer than you mean for them to. The next morning, after breakfast, I had a chance to take Amanda Lough, the Program Committee Chair, to I spot I mentioned earlier in our meeting that could someday be a scenic overlook. From this spot, you can see across a nice-sized valley, facing two high ridges that eventually lead to our creek and wilderness camp. It is a peaceful place, where you are sometimes eye-level with birds flying across the valley. I hope to someday have a spot there where people can park their cars and have a picnic or hikers can plan to walk to the point, promising their friend that it is worth it for the view. We all have dreams for what is to come. As we look out over the hills and valleys, the rivers and trees, we hope that we will see at least some of them with our eyes. Until then, maybe we will still take the walk out each day, until we feel that cool fall breeze on our face and know that it has, indeed, come to us, just like we wished.

Be in prayer that all our Bluebirds are comfortable nesting with us this weekend.

This week at Lakeshore 9/12-18

2010-09-17T13:44:00.001-05:00

Allergy season is upon us at Lakeshore, and it's hard to go outside without returning sniffling and rubbing your eyes. And, it's a shame that that's the case, because we are getting a taste of cooler temperatures--the type that lure you out in the late afternoon and you get distracted by something outside. Maybe it's the squirrel gathering the acorns that have begun to fall all around. Maybe it's the new level of the river, now that TVA has begun dropping it. If you go out there (especially if you have a lot of office work you really need to complete), you may find yourself outside longer than you originally planned. And then, when you come back in you reel off about 7 straight sneezes and you can't see through your blurry eyes enough to know who's standing in front of you.

Tim Kovar, a bit of treeclimbing celebrity, came to visit the camp early this week to look for ways to spread this activity more thoroughly into the Southeast. He has been all over the world: the Amazon, India, Japan and on and on, teaching people how to climb trees with ropes and harnesses, and spreading a love for the activity. When I mention to people that we do Treeclimbing at Lakeshore, people generally assume that we are climbing trees the way you did on the old cedar at granddaddy's farm 50 years ago. But, this way has a few more safety features, and it allows you to get into the canopy of a tree whose lowest climbable branch is 30 feet above your head. Tim came out to check out our camp and to talk to me about ways we could train more people and subsequently get more people into the trees. Towards the end of his time with us, Tim and I got to climb about 50 feet into a White Oak that stretches out over Cabin 2. From the top of this tree, we looked down on the roofs of all the cabins. I looked down onto a bald eagle that was flying over the camp's soccer field. We saw parts of this tree that had, up to this point, only been viewed by squirrels and birds. It can make you a little nervous when you get up there and actually think about what you are doing. But then, you sit on those strong branches, relax, and a peace comes over you as if you are a bird that has just escaped a cat on the ground. You've flown up 50 feet in a matter of seconds, and now you sit at your perch, looking out on this world below you, feeling a slight breeze in the air gently rocking you and the branch you cling to.

Yes, there's been a breeze in the air for the past 3 or 4 days. You can feel that a change is beginning to blow in. The temperature is still hovering in the 80s and even gets to low 90s, but you can feel that something will be different soon. There are leaves on the ground more and more, and it's not just the poplars who started dropping them weeks ago. The light seems different. I walked past an old Pine down by the tabernacle that sits next to a Bald Cypress. The Bald Cypress is a beautiful blend of green, gold, and brown right now. The Pine has dropped its old needles, and you can smell it for just a moment as you walk down the gravel road.

This weekend, we had a group from Summertown High School doing High Ropes with us. It is the High School that Vickie graduated from. As coincidence would have it, Vickie was the one who spoke on the phone with this group initially. She talked about how strange life can be sometimes. How your life can end up reconnecting in ways you could not have imagined. How you could one day be the host for the girl's basketball team who you cheered for, decked out with pom-poms and a mini-skirt, back when major concerns were who "liked" who, what you should wear Friday night, and who this person is you were becoming. And now, while you worry about your children who are now having grandchildren and still who this person is you're becoming, you welcome in those girls from high school--your high school--to be at this place you've found yourself. The teacher from the school told Vickie he had gone and found her senior picture in the hallway of the school. He informed her that that was when the pictures were still in black and white.

Yes, change is here again, some of it is change we know and expect. Some of it is change we could not imagine. We feel it on our face as we walk out the door. We smell it in our noses. We see it on the faces of generations that just keep on expanding, and will continue, no matter how much we hope to slow it. It these times we have a window. A short amount of time to notice it and appreciate it, and then it will be on to the next change. For this moment that we are lucky enough to look up and see it, let us climb up to the tallest tree we can find and take a few deep breaths and let it be a part of us as we are a part of it.

Be in prayer for all our guests this weekend: Alpha Sigma Phi of Murray State, Collinwood High School Girls Basketball, Jackson First UMC Confirmation, Covenant UMC Senior High, and the Conference Communications Action Team. And, a special prayer lifted up for the family of Bill Fisher. Bill was Executive Director at Lakeshore for many years. He is the first Director that I remember when I came up as a camper. His death was sudden, and I know he will be missed.

This week at Lakeshore 8/29-9/4

2010-09-03T17:52:00.002-05:00

It seems that summer is hanging around a little longer, but there are signs that we will soon have a new season upon us. The Tulip Poplar leaves have started to yellow and fall to the ground. The Sassafrass leaves are following, turning deep red. Today we had a breeze that just made you feel like Autumn. It was cool, and moved the trees around. You looked up 70 feet above your head and saw the branches swaying, and you felt that the trees were involved in some beautiful dances. The drying leaves rustled and waved to you, and you felt like everything near you was alive and moving, excited about the changes upon us.

The Bodine School paid us a visit this week for 3 days and 2 nights. They are a school out of Memphis who comes to visit us every year, who over time, have become pretty good friends of ours. It's nice to have a group that comes back remembering you, asking about you, remembering conversations from years past. The students, with a few teachers and parents, came out to do High and Low Ropes with us. The weather was cool enough, and as the Poplars shed their leaves with each breeze. I love the feeling, looking up to watch the High Ropes participants with a backdrop of fluttering leaves.

Jim was back at the tent and trailer bathhouse, hanging up archery targets in the closet, when he were some movement behind him. He knew that snakes were a pretty regular occurence there as well as bats and many, many types of bugs. He turned around to see a fury black head, and Jim immediately knew that it was not one of the creatures previously mentioned. He began to very slowly and cautiously move backwards and then saw several smaller heads lift up from behind what was then clearly the mother skunk. Jim made it out unsprayed, and the maintenance staff has gone to great efforts this week to make sure the mother skunk is disturbed as little as possible while rearing her young.

The kitchen staff made up some strawberry butter to serve to the Bodine School with our famous yeast rolls, and even I can't resist that. I generally try not to eat our rolls, as popular as they are, because I know that I shouldn't make consumption of something that buttery and carb-packed a regular thing. But, when you see something like strawberry butter waiting to complement it, well, I guess everyone has weaknesses. In the same way that you might say nothing will keep you from finishing that project, until you see a set black and white furry heads stick up that you know would do significant damage to your social life for quite some time. You say that you will hurry on to where you need to be, but then that breeze catches you, and you see the trees, and the leaves, and you just feel like you're slapping God in the face if you don't just stop for a moment to admire and enjoy it. There are things that stop us in our tracks. And there are more on the way.

We have some old friends, the Smithmiers, doing the latest in a long string of family reunions at Lakeshore this weekend. We hope that they are you find God wherever you are searching.

This week at Lakeshore 8/22-27

2010-08-27T14:43:00.002-05:00

This week Summer showed up on our doorstep with his head hung and a bouquet of flowers, ready to apologize to us for how terrible he has been. This week, summer tired to win our love back with cool breezes and partly cloudy afternoons. These mornings are the mornings that make you want to take a walk and just forget about going to work. The lake looks so pretty these days. I have a theory that the flooding earlier this year caused the lake to be a much deeper blue this year, and when you couple that with the breezes we've had this week, it looks like something completely new.

TVA has already begun to lower the water level, and the Maintenance Staff is rushing to get all the boats out of the water. The image of a boat sitting on muddy ground is the type of stuff that keeps you up at night if you're the one who has to get it out. So, as much as I would have loved to keep the sailboat at the dock into the fall, when we might get some nice cool breezes, reality is that TVA doesn't drop the water level based on my needs. We had a former staffer visiting who wanted a voyage on the Persimmon (the name of the sailboat), so I thought it would be a great opportunity to sail down to Eva Beach and take the boat out of the water. As luck would have it, this was the only day of the week we did not have a good breeze. We set out anyway, though, and made it just about to the secondary channel before the wind completely died. Luckily, we also had a pontoon boat to take out still, and it pulled us the rest of the way. There were times on that trip, though, if you just turned your eyes the right way and forgot about the pontoon engine noise, it felt like you had picked up a good gust of wind, and you would sail miles down river before the old girl rested.

A year ago we were overrun for a few months with tiny bugs that are either chiggers or very small ticks. Regardless of how you'd classify them scientifically, they are miserable to deal with. You are sitting down somewhere at sometime in a day and look down to notice very tiny dots all over one of your legs. You brush them off thinking it is dust, and you realize they are attached to your skin. The only way to get them off is to scratch with your nails. And this can happen (and often does) just from any walk in the woods. They have returned, and if things are like last year, they will be here for another month to month and a half. And even as much as I love being out in the woods, these critters make it very discouraging to go out there. The scratching on the sock lines, the constant paranoia every time there's an itch, and the infiltration of places that we'll leave unmentioned. I hope these past two years are not an indication of something around to stay. But, if it is, I will likely still, against my better judgement, venture out into the woods, because I can't resist.

This weekend we have the Scrapbook retreat, one that has become very popular for us. If you aren't acquainted with it, you will likely be shocked by how much equipment a materials are available to make scrapbooks. There are machines made to cut decorative designs that look like computer printers, that are filing cabinet sized storage containers on rollers holding all the different types of paper and tools used to turn a photo album and pictures into something much more artistic. Some of our guests show up at 8:00am on Friday to begin doing this. We have dollies to bring in all the equipment. I am like a bell hop at a fancy hotel when they arrive. We walk out to greet them, then offer to take their bags (only we're referring to the scrapbook equipment, not the essentials bags). Everyone has something they get slightly crazy about, I guess.

One of us wants to be outside so bad he'll endure being chewed by hundreds of tiny bugs, and another will carry trunks of paper, machines, and pictures to make their album just the way they want it to be. We do crazy things for the stuff we believe in. A few of our summer staff members who just left us will go off to new churches and cities and even countries, chasing after any type of great service to God they can grab. We are proud to see them go out and do these things. We are happy to see them get this kind of crazy.

After we pulled the sailboat out of the water we found something very strange to us on the side of the boat. It was very slimy looking in a blob shape. We were little boys again, daring each other to touch it, then talking about how both gross and cool it was at the same time. When you pressed on it, it was stiff to the touch, but left a slimy film on your hand. It had attached itself to the boat while that part of the boat was underwater. I still have no idea if it was an animal of some kind or just a big blob of stiff algae. As we brought down the mast, tied everything off, and put attached all the covers, I couldn't help but go back and touch this thing, hoping, I guess that I'd receive some new insight this time, but it never really came. That didn't make it any less cool, though.

Sure there is crazy sometimes. We know it's probably against better judgement to approach a bush that's on fire but not being consumed--that could only lead to trouble. There's only complication in leaving your fishing job to follow some idealistic smooth-talker around trying to help people. Why on earth would you go out in the woods if that's going to happen to your ankles? Scrapbooking? Mission work? Touching a slimy blob? Why on earth. I don't know. But, something deep inside is telling me it might be worth it. There's always the chance that that urge is going to prove unwise. But, who's to say you won't raise the sail, the wind pick up, and your next adventure begin?

This week at Lakeshore 8/15-21

2010-08-19T16:48:00.002-05:00

Our summer staff left last Friday, so as this week began, we started a new chapter in the camp year: the chapter 3, the fall retreat season. It is that feeling after the rain lifts or the snow melts. You step outside and your hearing is a little keaner. There are different, new sounds, and these sounds are not as loud as the ones previous. You hear water dripping from leaves. You notice the morning doves when they flutter away as you approach. A peacefulness has settled over the camp, and you listen almost expecting to hear echoes from the children, youth, and staff who have just recently left our gates. Instead you hear the birds and a faint breeze rustling the leaves that have already begun to fall from the yellow poplars.

On Tuesday night, Jason's Deli of Jackson, TN hosted a "Lakeshore Night," where 10% of their night's sales were donated to the camp. Many of the staff went up to support the event. Several years ago, I had a few campers arriving on their first day of camp tell me that they had named a sandwich after me. I was a little confused at first, but after having it explained, I learned that there was a sandwich at Jason's Deli, originally called "the Ranger," that these campers had started calling, "the Troy." I was flattered by this and vowed that I would have to try it someday. Over time "the Ranger," was dropped from the menu, but you can still ask for it, and they'll make it for you. It is roastbeef and bacon with melted cheddar cheese and jalepenos. I finally tasted it, and was satisfied to have my name associated with it. I talked to Dannon (one of the campers who renamed the sandwich) about it, and told her that the sandwich got my seal of approval. She said that now that she was a vegetarian, she couldn't eat it, but that she remembered how good it was when she was still a carnivore.

When I arrived to Jason's Deli at 4:00pm, the Lakeshore Staff and the Jason's Deli staff were pretty well the only people there. It was not to stay that way, though. We could not believe all the people who showed up to buy dinner and help us out. There were points when there were no seats available to sit in, and people were still standing in line to buy sandwiches. I got to visit with so many people of so many different ages. It was really great to get that support. There's just something about getting support in these unconventional ways, whether it's just seeing a bunch of bodies in line because they know their supper will help you or choosing to associate a beloved sandwich forever with your name (even if you don't eat it anymore). We have seen so many signs of support, that it would take much longer than I have to write here to name them all. But we see them. We see them in so many places.

This weekend we have children and youth from Northside UMC and Collierville UMC. Keep all of them in your prayers.

This week at Lakeshore 8/1-7

2010-08-09T10:08:00.002-05:00

There are lots of feelings going on when you know you are at the end of something. It changes how you approach life. You begin pondering all that has been. Sometimes you start to try to make something happen that would be fitting of the last whatever. "Oh, I need to make sure this last lunch is a memorable one...I really don't need to squandor this last time to put on deordorant...Let's make sure and relish this last bathroom break." We want things to be memorable and to mean something--and these feelings of urgency get kicked into hyper-drive as we see "the end," approaching. It is the reason you see all those signs about the end being near. "Do you know the status of your soul?" "Jesus is coming soon, are you ready?" I wonder what the signmakers have in mind when they say "soon." Are we talking 5 years, 100 years, 1000 years? Are the signmakers disappointed when they get 6 months down the road and what they hoped would happen didn't?

We want the inevitability of the end to motivate us and stir something inside that we may have been missing. As a staff, we try to remind ourselves in this way, when our time with campers is nearer it's end. We remind each other to treat it like the first week, to go out on a good note. To leave it all on the field. But, we can't help but look up at the calendar and see that there are a few days remaining. It affects everyone in different ways, so you see people outwardly expressing their feelings and people who seem to be at business as usual. The most normal part of the process is the campers, who have no idea what week it is--just that it's their week of camp. Our campers this week were a fantastic group of kids. I had about the most fun at an activity period all summer, playing at recreation with a group of campers. We played a game called, "clothespin ninja," where a counselor is blindfolded and has clothespins clipped all over his/her clothing. The counselor has a foam noodle and must guard against having his/her clothespins pulled off by campers. If he/she hits you with the foam noodle, you're out for the round. In one great moment, Travis, one of our maintenance workers was passing through and snagged a clothespin off of Josh Story, and he hardly even felt it.

At the end of the week, we had the third annual adventure race. It raises money for Lakeshore scholarships and makes participants very sore the next day. It begins with a run from camp to Pilot's Knob (about 3 miles), then biking (4.5 miles), canoeing (1 mile), and map reading/trail running (3.5 miles). You run the race with a teammate and get to choose, for the most part, the order you do the events. It has become very popular with staff and former staff over the years. Some come just to participate and experience the activity, while others come to try to win. In any race, I'm sure, there is that time as the end nears that you find that sense of urgency and the adrenaline rush. You feel the need to speed up, to finish strong, to drink some water, to colapse, something changes. And if you prepared youself better and paced yourself, you're likely feeling much better towards the end. But, no matter if you finish first or second or last, something that most of us experience when it passes, eventually, is the peace. That sound of silence as the last car pulls away. That feeling in your legs, knowing you are finished running for now. The time after the storm when all is still and you step out into the mist to breathe in what is left. The time when you are left with your thoughts and memories, and you get to try to make some sense out of it all.

There is no doubt the end can be sad. But we will wake from it. We will shake out the soreness and, hopefully, have some glory to hold on to. As the sun of the next day rises, the refrain may sneak into our minds:

Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word

Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day

May this be our prayer.

This week at Lakeshore 7/25-31

2010-07-31T09:46:00.002-05:00

The reality that some kids have already started school is setting in, even at camp. Every camp that we ran this week saw lower numbers than before. And next week, it will hit us even harder that (as it will all the students) school is back in session. There are fewer campers able to come, and those that aren't sitting behind a desk yet are still being called away to extracurricular school camps. So, while some of our faithful volunteers are still canoeing, playing dodge ball, and dressing up for skits, other of our volunteers are marching in heat for band camp or running lines in two-a-day football practice. Yes, reality sneaks up on you--or what we like to call reality anyway.

The moon has been particularly nice this week. It starts out near the horizon, large and papery yellow, It rises higher over the night and becomes brighter, smaller, and whiter. When you sit out near the river, there is a path of light, leading to the moon that you'd just like to follow across the river. And, the nights have been so calm and the river so smooth in the evenings that you could fool yourself into thinking you could step out onto it and follow that light. The evenings, though still hot and humid, have been bearable with this type of scenery. There was one evening that I was doing cabin inspections while the campers were at water olympics. I was on the boy's side of the camp, evaluating the typical boy cabin scene--clothes strewn all over the floor as if there had been a police raid, candy wrappers next to each bed, and a smell of mildew, cologne, and bug spray all mixed into one unique, off-putting odor. There was one point, though, when I passed the boy's side vesper area and became hypnotized by the moon on the river. You could see a small current that rippled and glistened even from far away. It was one of those moments when you know inside that you should stop and just look at it, regardless of how important your prior commitment is to you.

We've had an interesting mix this week of suburban and urban campers this week. The tendency for every camper is to stick close to those they came with, and when you bring in different cultural, social groups, campers tend to stick even closer to the familiar ones. But, the times that are the most enjoyable for all of us are when the campers are as one group, sharing their interests and experiences with each other. It was great seeing the talent show last night, when these groups stood together trying to make us laugh with their goofy skit or dancing together to a Justin Beiber song. To see all these campers who talk different, have different skin tones, and who come from so many different places come together even in the name of dancing to Beiber, you can't help but feel hopeful for yourself--that you might be able to find peace within this world at some point too.

The Advanced Backpacking camp emerged yesterday from their trip out East. They spent 5 days in South Cumberland State Park climbing hills, hiking into gorges, and swimming under waterfalls. They slept in hammocks each night, carried their food and water, and cooked everything they ate themselves. They made it back on Friday in time to take a long shower and join us for chicken fingers at dinner. They spent the evening acclimating back into the way of life they left for a week: air conditioning, mattresses, human contact, cars, and Justin Beiber. I'm sure there were mixed feelings. I always have these feelings when I emerge from something like this. There is much about our way of life we love, but much that we get a little too comfortable with. And too much comfort can slow down personal growth. And so, we struggle with what to hold onto and what to let go of. We wonder what is a gift from God for us and what is meant to be given away.

Yes, reality inevitably sets in, as all the kids with the band camp farmer's tan can tell you. Those times of peace, reflection, and revelation will get tested eventually by something you have to do or a problem that's a little more difficult than you thought. Our campers will go back to their worlds and deal with people who don't see things like they do. There will be pressures they didn't have here at camp. Our campers will want to go out into the woods and sleep under that bright moon, but their bodies will beg for 72 degrees and a soft mattress. They will be tempted to forget the sounds of the outdoors at night or the conversation of a dear friend, to crank the ipod and play today's rising song on the pop charts. We will search for balance, and the scales will tip a little to one side for a time. But I hope that we will notice. And when we do, I hope we will remember these times that formed and shaped us. That comfort might become less of a priority for a time, and that we will follow that path of light that is leading us to something we may not quite understand but that we know we shouldn't resist. That God's voice, whispering for us to follow, will bounce around in our ears enough to draw us back to him and to a new reality.

Next week is our last week with summer campers. We have a small group registered, but we know this gives us a chance to get much closer to the campers individually. We also have a youth group retreating with us this weekend and a wedding taking place at our Waterfront. Be in prayer for everyone who walks through our doors.

This week at Lakeshore 7/18-24

2010-07-24T09:56:00.002-05:00

This looks to be our last large camp of the summmer, with school beginning to start up in our area. I remember the days when September signalled to me the end of my carefree summer days, sleeping in, watching cartoons, and playing in the sprinkler. That last week of August was a time to get number 2 pencils, notebook paper (regular rule, not college), and of course all the hottest new school fashion that the 12 year-olds would be evaluating each other on on that first day. These days, by the last week in August, we have some idea of how the high school football team is going to do and which classes we wished we hadn't signed up for. We do have a fair number for our Junior High camp next week, though--about 100 campers. But, this week, we tip the scales at 200 elementary age young-uns.

If you want to experience something close to pure chaos, you should check out a canteen time during these weeks. Canteen is the time of the day when we let the campers buy candy and drinks. This time is the craziest at night, for some reason. I guess the campers' bodies still have that defense about them that, for whatever reason, does not want to go to sleep. I wonder why, at a young age, we resist sleep so much. For many of us working here, it would be the sweetest kind of relief. But when you're 10, it is something akin to punishment. So, they run around at full speed, drink the most caffinated liquid they can get their hands on, and shoot for the most sugary candy that the FDA allows. And, when you walk up Lakeshore Drive and find yourself surrounded by 200 sugar-crazed children, you have to breath deep and tell yourself, "it's all going to be ok." If you let yourself get overwelmed by all the energy bouncing around, it is very easy to miss the pure excitement and play that is happening right in front of you.

The kids are resisting that thing that must inevitably come for all of us, and I guess that is something we all do. I'm hoping that in 30 years, I'll still be able to run miles each day and hang with the college kids in competitive sports, even though I know that it's a long shot. It seems my only chance is to get out there--even during the heat advisories--and keep my legs moving. That's the only way I'll stay in it. So many things we want to resist, and your guess is as good as mine on how to do it.

We are also hosting Junior High Music and Drama this week, and last night they put on their talent show. I was walking around with a homesick camper, so I missed most fo the show, but I managed to see a few numbers. I saw a young girl do a memorized routine from a Michael Jackson video. I caught one of the leaders using a loop device to record the sounds he was making with his guitar and mouth, to play over and over each other. And, of course, there was the skit where the girls tricked the boys into letting them put make-up on them. For those moments, you watch these campers and see such geniune joy and trust. Such carefree bravery, and you just want to pause time and let it stay like that. You want them to always be this brave and always feel this safe with the people around them. You wish you could hold off fatigue and sleep just a little longer to hold onto this.

But sleep is coming. And we know that it must. For us to do this again tomorrow, we must give in, when the time comes. As much as we'd like to freeze certain moments for ourselves, we know that we do not serve a static God. We know that our lives will move and change. We will leave things behind and find new things. We will hold on to some things and let go of others. But, for these periods of time now we can stop for just a moment and watch it all. We can watch it unfold in front of us, before we have to go back to school or get older or go to sleep for the night. We can watch it happen and thank God that in this moment we see him at work, and even though it scares us a little, this encourages us that there is still work to be done.

Be in prayer for all our campers this week. For Elementary 3, Junior High Music and Drama, Senior High Watersports, and Camp Peace 4. It's hot, but we're making it.

This week at Lakeshore 7/11-17

2010-07-17T09:39:00.002-05:00

This week, we saw something at the main camp that we had not see in nearly a month: junior high campers. I find that this age group is such an interesting mix of stages of development. These kids are standing on the dividing line between child and teenager. They still want to get out and play, not minding getting dirty, but they also are socializing too. You find boys and girls talking on purpose. And, my favorite thing to witness at junior high camps is the girls dominating the boys in pick-up basketball. We are still in that magical time in life when the girls are outpacing the boys in growth, so they put even the most arrogant of boys in their place. I tell you, if you've never seen 5'4 girl block a 4'11 boy's lay-up, you should get out to a playground somewhere and witness this.

One of my most exciting new developments at the camp is learning to sail the camp's sailboat that has sat on a trailer since it was donated several years ago to the camp. After many months of talking about it and hoping that might make me a sailor, I wised up and put out a message to the conference asking for help from someone who knew what they were doing. Two wonderful guys, from my home church, no less, volunteered to come up, rig the boat, and show me how to use it. And so, now I'm an amateur (heavy emphasis on amateur) sailor. The first week of this knowledge, we had a decent enough wind to get the boat going and practice techniques. My friend, Randall, was up visiting, and we took an adventure across the river to the pebble island marina. They were exciting times. But, this week, we've had a more typical summer week. It is as if the air is in hibernation, because it hasn't moved in days. This week, we would likely have better luck to bring our fishing poles, hook a river cat, and let it pull us around. I really wanted to take a few groups of campers out sailing, but there was just never a breeze strong enough to do that.

It's difficult when these circumstances beyond our control make the decisions for us, especially when we have an alternative plan that seems to us to work so much better. If only West Tennessee were breezy during the summer. If only the humidity didn't make it so muggy and sweaty that you can't even walk outside without being a sweaty mess. If only that girl hadn't hit her growth spurt a year before me, I wouldn't be losing 22-10. We feel so much like we control our lives with our decisions, but there are many more factors out there that control things, for better or worse.

This week we also had Sr High Treehouse Camp, where many old veterans of Wilderness Camp come together to delight a little while longer in this camp they love so much. We had Ski Clinic, whose name really explains it pretty well. And, we also had Camp Grace, a camp for girls who have been sexually abused. At the end of a week like this, despite the lack of actual wind, you feel like a quick storm has passed through. There are so many different camps to see. So many focuses at once. So many campers to reach out to. It takes a great deal of planning to be sure everyone gets the attention they need. Even then, you just wish there were more time or more of you to spread out amongst all these fantastic campers.

You never know what forces move us in the directions we go. When you wake up each morning, you won't know if your choices will have much of an effect on the day overall. Will you control the actions, or will you just be reacting to something that is bigger than you? Will you lose time because that ski rope got caught in the propeller and shredded it in half? Will you hold onto your youth just a little bit longer, as you see yourself changing before your own eyes in a familiar place but unfamiliar body? Will you find yourself having to deal with the selfish actions of someone else that you could not keep from happening? Will you have to sit on the dock, waiting for the next breeze? We wait to see what is next. What all this means. And we hope that when the next wind blows through, we are ready to hoist the sails, harness the wind, and set out on something amazing, powered by something so much greater than we are.

Be in prayer for all our campers this week, those on their way, and our staff, who are on the home stretch of a rewarding but difficult summer.

This week at camp 6/27 - 7/3

2010-07-03T09:57:00.002-05:00

This week, we felt on track for another 6 days of humid misery. The first half of the week was still steamy and hot, and you still just didn't even want to go outside, even though you knew you should. But, about Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, something changed in the air. It started to move. There were occasional clouds that blocked the sun and gave us a shade that we had forgotten existed. We wanted to be outside again. You began to look for reasons to get outside. You tried to have meetings outside, go outside to look at the stars, some even considered long sleeves.

This week we had Judd Mowery's Elementary camp. Judd is our longest tenured dean, and there are many things he does that hearken back to earlier years at Lakeshore. They do the hike to Pilot's Knob, which is the highest point in West Tennessee (a mind-blowing 669 feet). Even though it doesn't compare to Clingman's Dome, it is a pretty decent hike for your average camper (and even counselor). So, the kids make the 3 mile round trip journey to the top of the hill. Inevitably there are the complainers in the group (I suspect probably as many staff people as campers) that come along with any walking farther than one room to the next. It is a steep climb, and you wonder if the hill will ever stop ascending. Your calves sometimes start to ache, and you'll see some people walking backwards to use a different combination of muscles. Someone usually falls (typically from running) and everyone sweats. But, there is this moment when you near the top of that hill. The cover breaks a bit, and you feel more of a breeze. You begin to see far out across the Tennessee River over to Middle Tennessee. You see some of the lights in Camden. You can follow barges down river. You sit and look, and, for at least a moment, you are glad you did it.

At Camp Peace this week, we had boys. These camps are sometimes boys' camps and sometimes girls' camps. This camp is designed for youth who have anger issues, which seems to be easy to find among our youth these days. When I first heard that Lakeshore was doing this camp, I thought that was the craziest idea we'd ever hatched. Why would we bring 10-15 youth with anger issues together on purpose? But, we've been doing it for about 10 years now. It's definitely a struggle. These guys come in with so many things to be angry about and have no idea how to get that out. The way it normally gets out is just whoever is the closest that pushes the wrong buttons. But, over the course of the week, you watch these guys become family. Like any other family, they still get on each other's nerves and still don't want to be around each other at times, but there are other things going on besides conflict. I got to watch these boys share their stories with each other. They cried and consoled each other. For that moment, they completely understood each other. They knew that what they were doing was worth it. I don't know where they will go from here. We hope and pray it is in a direction away from their anger. But, whatever happen next, we think that they were given a short rest during their week here. They climbed the tough road, made it to the top, and got to sit for a time--looking out over everything. And, for just a few minutes things made sense. Things looked and felt very nice.

Be in prayer for all our campers. For the ones going home, that they will take what they experienced to their church family and their friends. For the ones on their way, that they will be ready for what is in store.

This week at Lakeshore 6/20-26

2010-06-26T09:51:00.002-05:00

My apologies for missing the blog last week. I led the Backpacking Camp and could not convince my fingers to do any typing. This week our staff got it's first taste of camp packed full. We had Senior High, Treehouse 3, Camp Peace 2 (for campers with anger management issues), and Lebohner Heart Camp (for campers who have had serious serious heart conditions). There were few empty beds at camp and few quiet moments. Senior High is a camp that is very close to my heart, because it was the last camp that I camp to as a Lakeshore camper. To this day, I look back on it as one of the most important weeks of my life. Some of my cabin mates have turned out to be some of my greatest friends. This was the week that those friendships were really solidified. It was also this time in our lives where we were beginning to realize who we were and wanted to be. We were becoming that. Yet, we still had a foot planted in childhood. Now, when I look back, it's a magical time. I can remember specific times as if legendary. The beach party sticks out to me. How they had a volleyball spike competition and Randall (who loved volleyball) was sick and resting somewhere else, so Scott won pretty well uncontested. I remember the dance and what a big deal it was to us. The nervousness of asking girls to dance, wondering if you had feelings, wondering if they had feelings, or if they thought you had feelings because you asked them. It was great fun, but there must have been so many questions too. The night of the talent show, our cabin rapped, and I remember it being very popular, probably not as much because we were that great (though in my head, we were), but more because we, as the oldest, we so well known. I remember two guys playing a really beautiful instrumental number on guitar, when everything hit me. I was about to move on. I would never be a camper again. This was the summit as far as being a camper went. And we had put together something wonderful. We had created friendships, grown closer, played hard, and somewhere in that, even when we weren't trying, we had met God. As I listened to their music, I started to tear up. So much was happening to me that I couldn't even process it all.

What I like about Senior High camp is that it is a confluence of campers coming to this point for years. The confluence is that place where rivers merge to form one river. There's a pretty famous one in Pittsburgh where the Allegheny and Monongahela come together to make the Ohio River. They mention it all the time when you watch sporting events in Pittsburgh. For one like me who has been watching campers come to camp for years and years, I've seen many grow up here, coming through separate camps. But, this is the one main camp for Senior Highs. So, all these campers we've gotten to know, in different Elementary, Junior High, and even Wilderness, Oxley, and other Specialty camps, get funnelled in together, sometimes for the first time. It's like getting all your friends from different areas of your life together and it actually working out. There are campers we have known for years, and other campers we have known for years, who finally get to know each other. It is a great thing to watch.

When I went to Wilderness breakfast yesterday, I saw that one of the campers had caught a couple of tiny catfish while he was at the Buffalo River the day before. They swam around in a plastic container, through plants that had been placed in there for them. He said, "did you know that they can taste with their whole body?" Every part of their outer flesh has the sense of taste. There will be a point where they get released back into some body of water that will be their new home. They will most likely find other catfish to meet that they may never have known before. If things work out for them, they will grow bigger and much stronger, where it will take more than just hands to catch them. Some may even get so big that they can't even fit in a small boat, sitting at the bottom of the river, just feeding on everything that comes to them. But, isn't it interesting to think about these changes in their paths? Where the river carries them and how they have no idea what the river will run into next, where it will carry them, and what else will come from these paths that ultimately all lead to one destination.

This weekend we have a one-night Parent/Child camp. After that, we have a very large Elementary Camp along with Watersports and our next Camp Peace. Keep us in your prayers.

DD Camp 2010 at the Water Park

2010-06-20T11:53:00.000-05:00

DD Camp 2010 at the Water Park

Our 2010 Developmentally Disabled Camp was it's usual awesome experience with Brother Paul and Mrs. Anita at the helm. I thought I would get creative with a few pics from the Water Rec Center. Click in the link above and enjoy the show.

This week at camp 6/6-12

2010-06-12T10:38:00.002-05:00

There has been moderate heat at Lakeshore for several weeks, and that didn't change too much. But, the humidity really showed up in earnest this week, and boy does it make a difference. You can't step out of a building without being soaked by something, whether it be the moisture in the air or the sweat that almost immediately begins pouring out of your body. This is that time of year that we wonder what is in store for us. If early June is this bad, what will July be like? Will the rain ever cool it down, or will it just generate more steam? Why do I even bother taking a shower? I am gross again as soon as I go outside. These are the questions we ask ourselves during the early hot weeks. The fatigue of summer work has not really caught up with our bodies yet, but the heat fools us. It makes it hard to even want to do the things we love.

It has been the week of Annual Conference, and it makes things a little more stressful around camp. With Gary and Vickie gone to serve at Conference and a wedding, there is that scramble to make sure that everything continues to run smoothly. We also wonder in the back of our minds what will happen to Lakeshore at Conference. We know what we do could be supremely influenced by the decisions made. Some of the campers we fall in love with might not be able to come next year if certain decisions are made. On the flip side, programs that are only dreams right now could be begining in front of our faces if the other decisions are made. We know these decisions are difficult, and that we are just a piece of the ministry in the Confrerence. But, we love this ministry. We have been changed by it. And, we continue to watch others be changed. So, we pray hard during the activity staff dinner meetings that the ministry will be able to continue.

We hope that these decisions are made in the same way we hope the staff will make it through the summer heat. We know that there will be lean times when we are stretched thin. There will be the urges to set back and just let things run their course without our influence. The heat may get to us, and we just want to hide indoors until it passes and better weather greets us. But, we know there is important work to be done out there in the heat. And so, when we are at our best, we go out and sweat. We give up some luxuries. We do this together and support each other. And we are changed by that. Not only us though--the gift is that we get to continue to share this with others and see them changed as we have been.

I remember a theme time I lead nearly 10 years ago for a Watersports camp where I told them that part of Lakeshore's property was being annexed by the state, and it happened to be where Wilderness camp was located. I told them that if it went through, there would be no Wilderness next summer. I asked them to come up with letters and posters and any other kind of presentation that we could give to the state to try to sway their decision. You would not believe the sincere, impassioned pleas the campers put forth to be able to keep the camp as they knew it. I felt guilty afterwards after seeing how deeply it affected them. But, it made me realize that doing camp here is as important to many, many more as it is to me. My eyes are tearing up as I think about this, not because of how important it is to me, but because I've seen it be that for others too.

We saw it this week during our Junior High 1, "Be a Glee-ro" lip sync competition, as kids put on routines to songs about being a hero. We saw it as Elementary Arts campers enjoyed watermelon down by the river at sunset. We saw it canoeing on the Buffalo River with Wilderness. We saw it in Camp Teen Hope when a group of girls faced their fears and climbed 20 feet in the air on our high ropes course. And, so we will keep going out there, regardless of how sweaty we get. There won't be any dry shirts when we come back, but there will be some eyes that aren't dry either. Because we know. We know what this place has done and is doing. We see it when the campers leave and hug everyone in their path 3 times. We hear it in the laughs. And we feel it going to work deep inside ourselves. And, though we are about to drop from the heat or the worry or the sunburn or the soreness from piggiback rides, there will be a part that hopes it might never end.

Keep us in your prayers. You are in ours.

This week at camp 5/30-6/5

2010-06-04T21:58:00.002-05:00

At long last, summer camp is here again. I stood out on the empty parking lot with members of our activity staff, and we talked about our strategy for parking cars. We rolled up our sleeves to try to avoid farmer's tans and filled up the water bottles. Before we knew it, the first car drove over the hill, and the first campers of the summer stepped out of the car door. Because of it's closeness to school letting out, this week's camps are not completely full. But, we have enough to let us know that summer camp is on.

We've had two hospital visits already. We've had two sets of water olympics. That summer mugginess has already creeped into each afternoon, and we've had several air conditioning units and a boat break down. The frustrations and the joys, the laughter and sleep deprivation are in full swing. Some type of singing happens at least every hour. You go from getting strange looks from campers when you introduce yourself the first day to getting clinging hugs when they leave on the last day. Get ready for ticks and sunburns. Get ready for a permanent smell of chlorine in your hair. Prepare yourself for pop-up storms everytime you are scheduled to take the boats out. You will drink more Kool-aid in a week than you will likely see the rest of the year. You will see sunsets at 8 in the evening that include every color in the spectrum. And, if you pay attention, you are likely to leave with a new perspective on God.

We are playing. We are dancing. We are making things. We are coming up with inside jokes only funny to us. We are occasionally getting homesick. We are immersing ourselves in all kinds of water. We are sitting and talking. We are running and jumping. We are lauging. We are crying. We are getting on each others nerves. We are hugging each other like old friends. We are growing. We are getting dirty. We are learning who we really are. We are talking about Saul, David, Philip, Cornelius, and of course Jesus. We are looking at trees and birds and bugs. We are worshipping. We are singing songs we might not sing anywhere but here. We are playing games. We are smiling. We are closing our eyes and feeling the breeze on our face. We are loving.

Welcome back summer camp.

Be in prayer for our campers preparing to end their week and those preparing to start next week. Pray for our staff, in hopes that we all get closer to God.

Ending Up the Getting Started

2010-06-01T17:18:00.001-05:00

Ending Up the Getting Started

As we enter our first week of camp with 80 fabulous Elementary Campers, 10 terrific Camp Teen Hope Guys, and 25 TreeHouse experts, I thought I would share some pics from the last part of Staff Orientation Week. We have an amazing, dedicated group of young adults bearing witness to the unique and unending Love of God. Their covenant cry for the Summer of 2010 is "Be Love!" We will. Just click on the title and enjoy the video.

Gettin' Summer Started

2010-05-26T19:35:00.001-05:00

Gettin' Summer Started Here is a little video presentation of the first pix of 2010. We are off and running. It is an exciting time filled with lots of expectations for a fabulous Camping season. See you on the Shore. Just click on the title above. Awesome!

This week at Lakeshore 5/2-8

2010-05-06T09:37:00.000-05:00

I would say if you don’t know what happened last weekend you were in a cave, but, even then, your cave would have filled up with water. I thought so many times that I had never seen rain like this in my life. There was nothing to compare it to. Corky assured me that he had never seen anything like it either. I have heard this is the type of flooding that happens every 500 years or maybe even every 1,000. Think of that. Floods like this may not have happened in the entire time Europeans have been here. It is an interesting feeling to know you are witnessing something so infrequent. You may be the only one 30 or 40 generations who ever see something like this. We look back with respect to people who endure times like last weekend. Earthquakes, droughts, depressions, wars—we look back sometimes and feel inadequate compared to those before us who made it out. We wonder what they know that we couldn’t possibly know. Then a flood comes along that might predate writing in North America.

At Lakeshore, we had damage, but considering many in Tennessee, we got off easy. A retaining wall failed above the basketball court at the old pool site. We found that nearly every building at camp will leak if it is blasted non-stop with water for days. Our waterfront has been relocated. One nice side of that is that you don’t have to walk quite as far to get to it. The soccer field is almost completely underwater. We have had herons, cottonmouths, and geese taking meditative strolls over our prayer labyrinth this week. If you stood next to the waterfront cross, you would likely find yourself completely submerged under water. There are things here I have never seen and may never see again.

Over the weekend we had three groups: Middle Tennessee Camp Bluebird, Alpha Sigma Iota from UT Martin, and Counselor Certification. On Sunday (when all three groups were slated to leaver), all of the certification members managed to get home. The other two groups, were not so lucky in having a route home. Both groups stayed until Monday afternoon. I often hear campers at Lakeshore who don’t want to go come up with crazy scenarios that might enable them to spend more time at camp. I don’t think, though, I’ve ever heard someone talk about Tennessee flooding so much that guests are stranded. We made the best of it, though, eating leftovers and putting off worries of flooded houses and missing cars. One thing is for certain, those who shared the experience this weekend will not soon forget it. What it means to them, I guess they probably need some time to think on. I’m glad we were able to give them some comfort, though.

On Tuesday, I could not wait to hop a canoe and go exploring. There is water deep into the woods where there is normally dry land. I think about this and wonder if I will ever get a chance to canoe through these woods again. I had to wade to our boat house to get a life jacket and paddle. Then I had to swim out to our canoe rack, which was almost completely submerged. I loosened the cable holding the canoes, and the rack began to collapse. It would float over to another part of the waterfront. I took my canoe out into a cove normally a small drainage creek, and I could see far back into the woods a path of water. I also noticed several boards together (there is so much debris out here, I don’t know how long it will take to clean it). Upon further inspection, I realized that it was one of our waterfront picnic tables that had floated away. I could not stand to leave it, so I tied it to my canoe and began rowing. If you’ve never tried to paddle a canoe and heavy picnic table down river, let me tell you, it’s quite the work-out. I tried paddling from the canoe, paddling while sitting on the table, I tried swimming it, and then I tried walking it. I realized I could not touch the ground in this area (remember that this area is normally dry land, at most a very shallow creek). I wanted to see how deep it was, so I put my paddle down, then stood on the end of the paddle and pushed it down with my feet. The paddle never touched the bottom. That is the only picnic table accounted for. There are at least 5-7 more somewhere, a trash can box with 3 trash cans, and one escaped canoe also missing.

The next day, I went exploring in the canoe some more, and I paddled into the state park. I found myself canoeing the blue trail of the state park, a trail I normally run 3 times a week. I paddled by trees at heights I normally would not be able to reach. My boat passed in between the trunks of very large trees. Squirrels jumped from branch to branch of trees whose trunks were completely submerged. I paddled my way through a culvert that runs under Pilot Knob Road. I wonder what this will do to these trees. I wonder if these trees will make it if the water stays very long. There are some fairly old, large trees submerged in 10-20 feet of river. It is a completely different world taking a canoe among them. This, again, is something I may never find myself doing again.

So many things have happened this week that have affected people deeply. Much has been lost. It has derailed schedules. It has broken hearts. There is much that will not soon be understood. We see these images in front of our face and we want a clear emotion that we can justify. Should we be angry? Should we be sad? Should we mourn? Do we go on? Or do we stop and tarry longer, in awe? What could God be saying? When will we be calm enough to listen? There are powers greater than us. We saw them in many ways this week. We saw things we may never see again. I pray that when these waters calm, when we step to the river’s edge and we do not find ourselves gasping for air, that we are stronger. I pray that we will offer our hands to all those in need and we create something new. I pray that we become something worthy of the respect of those generations to come.

Pray for so many who have lost so much. Pray for the family of Sam Bomar who died this week. Sam was part of Lakeshore’s family, and we mourn as a family this week for a lost brother. Keep Tyler Frye, his good friend, in your prayers as well. This week at Lakeshore will be taking a two week break, because Troy is traveling abroad for the first time. Have no fear, we’ll be back May 28th to tell you all about the first week of camp. Take good care.

Footage of the Creek after last weekend's flood rains

2010-05-05T19:51:00.002-05:00

This week at Lakeshore 4/25 - 5/1

2010-04-30T17:12:00.002-05:00

This week we were reminded that was not in fact yet summer. It is only springtime. The weather cooled off and breezes blew through. It is funny how an early shot of 80 degree warmth can make us forget the entire winter we've just weathered. What I mean to say is how temperature in the low 50s or high 40s become frigid to us after a week or two of 80 degrees. We've already erased from our memory that month of temperatures in the teens and 20s. Forty-eight then becomes the new fourteen in the spring time. Regardless of complaints, it was here, so we had to dig back into our closets for long sleeves and jackets that we thought we had put up at least until mid October. There isn't too much cause for concern, though--we're right back in the 80s as I'm typing. The wind is blowing strong, and so I've been able to get by with the windows open. I think it feels much better than an air conditioner.

Down on the waterfront, I'm noticing only one member of the goose couple who returned for their annual visit. It stands out in the grass, walking around, as if on patrol. One day I was walking back from the Alford Rec Center and noticed it pacing around, honking like a car in rush hour traffic. I watched it for a little bit, wondering what had it all riled up, then realized that Lily was snooping around the edge of the waterfront. When she moved on to snoop in other areas, the goose waddled over the the shore and swam off to a wooded spot just down river. I've noticed that when Lily, Jock, and Miles get too close and the lone goose takes off, honking all the way, it flies over to this same spot each time. I suspect the goose's partner is waiting there, keeping eggs or goslings warm. Hopefully, we'll soon see two geese patrolling the soccer field with several scrubby little ones following behind.

We welcomed Middle Tennessee Camp Bluebird yesterday. This is a camp that goes on all over the country for cancer survivors. They decorate the camp up in a way that would make even our best Junior High summer camps jealous. The group has gone with a Disney Theme this spring. Cinderella's carriage is set up in front of our fireplace at the Conference Center. I'll have to make sure to be around at midnight to see what happens. The vehicle of choice for the most part, however, is the golf cart. With our hills, many in this group could not make the climbs several times a day. So, the Bluebird team brought up a gang of golf carts that you will consistently see passing by with passengers. For this weekend, at least, Lakeshore has a mass transit system.

For the second weekend in a row it seems that we will have thunderstorms during the prime time for retreat groups to be outdoors. This weekend we have another group staying in wilderness--a music sorority from UT Martin. The forecast seems pretty confident that we will again be inundated with heavy rain, strong winds, and lightening. Even as I'm typing this, the skies have turned to a blue/gray and the air has changed a bit. The wind continues to blow. I wonder what will happen to all of our guests as a result of these occurences. Will it dampen plans so much that dissappointment will prevail? Will some be so frightened by what may happen that they may not enjoy the time? Will it just pass over us, while others wonder about us? Will some find something else that they enjoy far more than their original plans? Will some sit on the porch and watch the storm clouds come and go, comforted by the rumbling and the sound of raindrops?

This evening a group of guests wanted to prepare peach cobler with a recipe and procedure they had done for years in other settings. The kitchen was happy to oblige, but every got a messy surprise when they all realized that the pans they were using were not quite deep enough for this particular recipe. Much like our cups in the presence of the Lord, these pans raneth over. According to Martha's description, there was peach cobler all over the oven, the floor, and the kitchen in general. While a room wallpapered and floor with peach cobler might sound like a dream come true to some, it's probably not the easiest dessert to scrape off the inside of ovens and floors. But, maybe one day later this week someone will walk through the kitchen and catch a wiff of peaches, no idea where it's coming from, and be transported to a sweeter place, warm and inviting with a scoop of ice cream on top.

This weekend be in prayer for all our groups: Middle Tennessee Camp Bluebird, the girls of Alpha Sigma Iota, and the future leaders who are coming to Counselor Certification to learn to be summer counselors. Also, keep Papa G and Mama V in your prayers as they vacation in our Nation's Capitol. Till next week...

This week at Lakeshore 4/18-24

2010-04-23T21:51:00.001-05:00

The beauty of Spring may have reached its full potential this week. The temperature has been mildly warm, and there has normally been a breeze in the air. It is the kind of week that begs you to leave your window open and leave it that way. There are more than breezes in the air, though. The pollen has wreaked havoc on many of the staff. You’ll hear those hacking coughs throughout the administration building. It’s not a common cold kind of cough—just a little tickle in the throat. You find yellow dust on your shoes and in your hair if you spend much time outside. The helicopter-like seeds from maple trees are drifting down, and the oak trees are dropping clumps of something that I don’t know a name for.

The maintenance staff has shifted gears, spending a good bit of time holding back the plant growth that is in full swing. If the sun is up, you can figure on hearing a lawn mower or weed-eater at camp, these days. The cut grass blends with yellow pollen dust and songs from dozens of types of birds. Gary is spending a good bit of afternoons tending to the organic garden. The plants have sprouted up, and by July, we may be eating our own vegetables. The wild blueberry bushes on the high ridges at camp have small green berries sprouting, and with any luck, we’ll also be able to go pick blueberries by mid-June.

Everything seems so alive these days. Unfortunately for our weekend groups, it seems there are weather systems approaching that are too alive. The forecast for Saturday has gotten progressively worse each day, and that doesn’t bode well for groups planning to be outside the entire day. A group doing high ropes had to cancel yesterday. Our other group is a youth group from Nashville had planned to build a bridge across the Lowe Trail. During the time they were scheduled to build, there is an 80% chance of strong thundershowers. They are still coming this weekend but are making adjustments to their schedule.

Plans are so important as we go through life. If you’re a short stop with men on first and third, you have to have a plan for where to throw should a slow roller come your way. Then again, you have to be able to make an adjustment when the ball takes a nasty bounce on a divot in the infield, even if it means changing plans. It’s a shame that at the end of the weekend we won’t have a bridge across the creek on the Lowe Trail, but who knows what will happen with this group because of the impending rain storm?

I wonder what the rain and lightening will do to our plants when the sun returns to us and we go outside again. I look forward to seeing the creek rushing strong on the heels of water running from every hill around us. A couple of good friends, the Shanklins, are here with us to see all these things come to Lakeshore. They’ll hear the raindrops on their cabin roof, the thunder, the flashes of lightening. They’ll be able to walk down to the creek and see the waters higher and stronger than most of our campers get to experience from June on. It may not be exactly what they were expecting on Tuesday. It may be something pretty nice to see, though.

Keep the Rehobeth UMC Youth Group and the Shanklins in your prayers. That their stay here helps them know God a little better. And, be safe this weekend.

This week at Lakeshore 4/11-17

2010-04-19T11:54:00.002-05:00

This week was a bit of a whirlwind--a sort of warm-up to the summer. We had guests in nearly the whole week, and it was down-right hot at times. Don't get me wrong, we haven't entered the 175% humidity, sweat-through-your-clothes-just-by-crossing-the-street-to-check-the-mail kind of heat. But there were days that we turned the air conditioner on. Days that opening the window and letting the breeze cool us down was not on the table.

The heat may have been brought in by our board of ordained ministry group that came in for the first half of the week. Forgive me if I botch the terminology, but it basically comes down to (in my understanding) the clergy that are up to be ordained or in some sort of new way come in for a few rounds of interviews by other clergy in the conference who have the task of determining if the people in this group are ready. As you can imagine, it's a stressful few days for the people being interviewed and the people interviewing. There is so much at stake during these meetings for everyone. My theory is that the heat we experienced this week at Lakeshore is a direct result of the collective sweating from that retreat group.

The warmth hung around and we got no rain this past week. There was very little rain chances on the forcast for our first youth backpacking retreat this weekend. It's the type of weather you hope and hope for if you're planning an event involving the outdoors. You have to be careful if you wish for too much of something, though. Like, say, you wish for caramel apples, and you wish for so many that that's all you ever eat. Eventually your teeth will fall out, and you'll be left with a bunch of caramel apples and no way to enjoy them (unless you have a good blender). As nice as it is to have April with no rain, I try to remind myself the old adage about how we get our May flowers.

My wife, Allyson, and I were out on our land this week, inspecting our tad-pole pond. In truth, it's really a tad-pole puddle--simply a place where a lot of rain-water pooled up. But there are lots and lots of tad-poles swimming around this temporary pool. Over the last two weeks, the pond has been steadily shrinking, and the tad-poles have been living in closer and closer quarters. Allsyon is very worried about them not becoming frogs if we don't get rain soon. It's hard to know what to want sometimes.

The United Methodist Women came in for two separate spring retreats this weekend. They know what they are doing when they plan these retreats. They do one in the fall just as the seasons are shifting, and one in the spring at the same time. Though we won't technically be in summer until June, we are already making transitions to summer weather. The bright sun, the hot days, and the ones we'd probably prefer not to welcome like ticks, fleas, and red wasps. I'm sure it'd cause a whole new set of problems to get rid of those and others, but it sure would make me much less paranoid when I have an itch or here some sort of buzzing.

In the evenings this week when you walk through the woods, you get to witness the return of fireflies. There will be many more in a few months, but for now, you see them light up here and there. It's enough, when you first notice, to second guess yourself and wonder if it's just your eyes still adjusting to the darkness. You wonder if it's starlight or airplanes and sometimes even freak yourself out wondering if someone else is in the woods. But, once you settle into it, it makes for very soothing scenery--the slow pulse of that yellow green light, appearing before your eyes, disappearing, then appearing again somewhere else. It surrounds you like a village with a canopy of leaves as your roof. For the moment, you don't want anything, just to see it longer is plenty.

Keep our backpackers and our United Methodist Women in your prayers this weekend as well as the Summer Staff who is preparing for summer camp right now.

Newsletter correction

2010-04-15T10:38:00.002-05:00

I feel the need to correct a term that I used in the last Shoreline (Lakeshore's newsletter). In the article, "Be a Hero in 2010," where we introduced the summer curriculum for 2010, there was an error in terminology. In the story from my childhood, I talked about my Knightrider Powerwheels. I have realized since the newsletter was published and mailed to thousands of people that the childhood vehicle I remember was actually a Knightrider Bigwheel.

The Bigwheel is the plastic oversized tricycle, low to the ground, that I described in my story of losing a race to a girl on foot. The Powerwheel is a different plastic vehicle with an electric battery that propels the vehicle with a gas pedal--sort of like a small plastic golf cart shaped like a monster truck. My apologies to the Bigwheel and Powerwheel manufacturers for this egregious mistake and to all the people who mistakenly imagined me driving a Powerwheel in this story as opposed to a Bigwheel.

-Troy Taylor

This week at Lakeshore 4/4-10

2010-04-09T17:24:00.002-05:00

Greeness has been sneaking up on us for the past few weeks. Right in front of our eyes, it's been gradually spreading over the trees. The Beech trees finally let go of their brown, fall leaves, and the curled up leaf buds began to unfurl. We make comments like, "yep, we'll have leaves before you know it." "It's gonna be green soon." But still, that first day that you look around and you are completely surrounding by greeness, it seems like a revelation. I don't know if it's a perspective thing, but this spring green seems so much more vivid than the later summer green. It could be that I've just gotten used to the colors by June or July. But, it seems like the green now is much brighter and fuller than it will be months from now.

My friend, Randall, came up to help with summer staff interviews last weekend, and he stayed a few extra days. He is one of those friends that whenever he comes to visit, you know, against your better judgement, you will stay up too late talking. Old friends seem to have that affect on me no matter how old or sleep-deprived I get. We get this way at camp sometimes. There are, of course, the times that we hold rigidly to the schedule because it is important for things to run smoothly. In general, we want to get the right amount of sleep. We want to spend the alotted time at an activity. We want to get out of worship when we say we will get out of worship, so the next group can start their worship on time. There are occasions, though, when we see something in it, and we just don't want to say, "stop." We want to ride it out and see where this is going. Our conversations tend to carry on this way.

Of the many returns this week, baseball season was one of particular interest for me. Randall indulged me while I watched the first Cubs game of the year. As is the case with many things related to the Cubs, the game was a bit of a disappointment. But, not the return of baseball. Not the return of old friends. There is a comfort to it, no matter what else is happening. Even if your team is losing miserably, the game is there. You ease into the rythmn of innings, of pitches and swings. You know instinctively when to look up, when to nap, when sit up and get on the edge of the seat. You know these things with old friends. On one of the many gorgeous days this week, Randall and I sat outside on the back porch of the Administration Building. We'd talk for spaces of time, then be silent. All, though, was peace and comfort.

Another old friend of mine, Steven, brought his youth group on their first photography club trip. The came to take pictures on land that Allyson and I recently bought. It was a sunny day, and when the day was done, Steven and I both got enough sun to give you the impression we were wearing red shirt sleeves. We stayed out a little longer than our skin would have liked, but it is those times that you push a little longer that generally stand out in your mind.

We've also had our first NOMAD couple come to stay with us. The NOMADS are a United Mehtodist group of retirees who travel in RVs, staying at Methodist camps along the way doing work projects in return for a place to park. They came in on Monday, as Randall and I watched the Cubs get obliterated by the Braves. It is interesting to pull together two parts of your life--a personal friend with new acquantances who you will certainly know well before all is done. They have been building a new wood shed on the waterfront and tending to some of our more neglected flower beds.

The may apples have also returned this week, covering the ground like small, green patio umbrellas all over the ground. I'm told that if they grow large enough and in the right conditions that they will actually grow a fruit. I still have yet to find any may apples to sample. That could have to do with the fact that it is still in April. I guess we should just hope that they keep growing and push through until the month comes along to sprout fruit.

Today, another good friend, Danielle, came to camp. We are hoping she will be able to help lead backpacking camps for Lakeshore in the future, so she came to learn the ropes of the backpacking summer camp. We spent time going over equipment, tent set up, and even procedure for answering the call of nature in the woods. We spent a good bit of time getting to know the trails of the state park and navigating using the often confusing trail maps the park provides. We walked several miles. Along the way we discoverd an eagle's nest with two eagles in it. We were both so fascinated with it. I think if we hadn't had so much ground to cover, we could have easily just stayed there the rest of the day looking at the eagles.

But, eventually, you take a step onto something else. You can't just stay in one place forever, even if you want to. But, that doesn't mean you can't go back. It doesn't mean you won't return to that place that holds so many things for you.

Lakeshore's 2010 Summer Staff

2010-04-06T10:12:00.002-05:00

We are proud to announce our Summer Staff for 2010:

Aquatics Directors: Johnny Gall and Sarah Sharp
Challenge Course Director: Jonathan Gowan
Crafts Director: Sara Stephens
First Aid Director: Megan Jones
Lifeguards: Dorothy Harvey and Laura Sherman
Music Director: Austin Powell
Naturalist: Alex Callaway
Oxley Director: Tiffany Dowdy
Program Utilities Facilitator: Hannah Murry
Recreation Director: Lisa Elder
Resident Counselors:
Emily Alton
Kelsey Aquadro
Gentry Barnard
Andrew Barton
Emily Dodson
John Dorse
Christy Jo Harber
Will Harris
Mary Catherine Lowe
Paige Martin
Michael McNeely
Abigail Myers
Jacob Paul
Nathan Snow
Kim Swift
Emma Tinius
Wilderness Director: Alyssa Jones
Wilderness/Oxley Resident Counselors: Kaitlin Bullwinkel and Tyler Reed

This week at Lakeshore 3/28 - 4/3

2010-04-02T14:48:00.002-05:00

Spring or Summer or something in between came to us this week. We saw 80 degrees, for the first time this year, I believe. The songbirds came out in earnest, and there were layers of songs floating through the air. The office is excited, because we had a brand new phone system installed, and we really got to begin playing with it this week. Now, each of us have voice mailboxes and easy transfer options. I have written much fewer notes this week for unavailable staff. It's such an exciting feeling to be able to say, "would you like their voicemail?"

Of course, with new systems there are glitches and learning curves. There is a strange buzzing noise at the Conference Center. The sound is definitely one that's been there before, but it's more prominent now. Before, it had been a noise you'd notice just before a lightening strike. It would decide for a few days to buzz, then quiet down. It is a constant buzz now. There are phones ringing that shouldn't ring. And, we still don't know exactly how to use all the buttons correctly. A few days ago, Martha came to my office and asked if I'd show her how to transfer a call directly to someone's voicemail, rather than sending it to their phone to ring several times. If you can master this skill, you'll avoid interrupting someone who's on the other line by making their phone ring over and over. So, Martha came to my office, hoping for guidance, and I told her that I had not figured it out either.

We opted to practice by coming up with an elaborate scheme where one of us called the camp, the other answered, then tried to transfer the call, when lo and behold someone called us. I answered and asked her if she'd be willing to help us with a little experiment. She sounded very reluctant, as she was just calling to ask a registration question. She was a good sport, though, and consented to let us try our theories on how to send someone to voicemail. I tried my first idea, and luckily it worked. Her call went straight to Vickie's voicemail without ringing her phone, and Martha and I high-fived and shouted, "wooo hooo!" Our generous experiment subject even called back to let us know that it had worked.

It has been relatively quiet around the office, as holy week should be. The calls have been minimal and all the hustle bustle of spring retreat and summer camp planning have slowed to a much more relaxed pace. The one event looming over the office is summer staff interviews. We will have a wealth of young college-age kids coming to Lakeshore this Saturday to try to earn a spot on the 2010 Summer Staff. It's an exciting, nerve-racking time for everyone involved. We are excited about the potential we see for the summer. We are excited about how this tells us that summer will be here soon. We are also apprehencious. We know we cannot hire everyone. We know people will come with hopes of specific positions that we will not hire them for. There are many emotions swirling around for all of us.

I've spent a lot of time this week reading applications and trying to prepare myself to make all the decisions that will need to be made on Saturday. With the weather being as it has, I could not keep myself in my office. I went out to the boy's side vesper area to read applications. I kicked off my shoes and let the sun shine on my feet. I could see the river, hear water rolling up on the shore. There were boats going by in the background. Bees and flies, birds and butterflies passed by me as I read about these applicants' trainings, hopes, accomplishments, and aspirations. Another time, I went out to Tent and Trailer, and sat on the big bridge that cars will be driving across soon to drop Wilderness Campers off for a week of camp. I could see and hear the creek, running very nicely now because of the recent rain. In these spots, trying to picture these applicants, among the spring warmth, I could envision the summer that is to come. Soon there will be the sounds of children and youth running and playing. You will hear the music playing at the pool from far away. You will hear the lawn mower trying to keep the grass at bay. Some of these applicants will be the ones keeping this thing going. During these quiet times, we are gathering up our strength, taking in these thoughts. We are preparing for what we be done and can only hope we do something pleasing. Until it is time, we will rest in these thoughts of past, future, and today.

Be in prayer for everyone involved in interviews. Some applicants will be very nervous. There will be applicants hired and unhired who need prayer that they can fulfill their calls. The interview team will be making decisions that impact many people for years to come. Keep us in your thoughts.

This week at Lakeshore 3/21-27

2010-03-27T14:28:00.002-05:00

Things just came a flowin in this week, as they tend to do in the spring. The sunlight came pouring in at the begining of the week, and it became very difficult to stay indoors. We in the office who are pretty pale-skinned become reminded of just how pale that is when the sun is out like this. Everytime I go out, I try to get the angles right, roll up the sleeves, and turn my body to just the right position, so I don't get a start on a particularly embarassing farmer's tan this early in the game. By Thursday, the rain came pouring in as well. The wind whipped the budding branches around and dropped rain all over us, and it became tolerable once again to be inside. With Summer Staff interviews very close, now, those last staff applications began coming in as if they had been stuck behind a breaking dam. They came in my mail, fax, and the very popular next day mail. These things, weather and mail, come rushing in this time of year as if it's the only possible time for them to arrive.

The frogs began croaking over a month ago, but they have come on strong as of late. There are nights that I'm driving home (and I even have my radio on), and I can hear the frogs croaking. I passed by the pool earlier and took notice of all the interesting colors in the lazy river. It is still several weeks before we begin getting the pool back to it's crisp, blue color for guests. As of right now, the cover is still on the pool, and the lazy river is still many different colors. The one I found the most odd, was the dark red color. It looked as if there had been some kind of red mud spill into it. As you circle it, you find browns, grays, and greens depending on how much sun each particular area gets. Many a Lakeshore frog spends its tadpole days in our lazy river. If you go at the right time, you'll find them all over--little ink blots with tails--swimming through the lazy river like our campers will be in just a few weeks. Then, they'll grow legs, lose the tail, and we will find them suctioned onto the walls all around the pool.

It all comes at us so quickly, the way the rains drops so fast that the ground can't soak it all up. We have puddles all over camp while the soil below waits to filter out some of the rain. The creek gets it's highest for the whole year, and everytime you see it you wish it would stay that way. That the water would always be that strong. That you could always hear it before you even see it. That the sections that branch off and rejoin the creek would always be there. But, they will dry when June gets into full swing, just as the potholes will reemerge no matter how many times we grade them.

Board member and long time friend of Lakeshore, Charles Parker, came out with his tractor on Friday to smooth out some of our gravel roads. On the road back to Tent and Trailer, there were holes there that might have been portals to China. But, now they've been graded a little and had some churt poured over them. So, for a while at least, you might step in a puddle, but at least you won't find yourself falling off into an alternate world or something.

We can see summer getting closer and closer to each day. Life is returning. Sun and heat are returning. Green is returning. Let's hope we are ready when it shows up at our door, suitcase in hand.

This week at Lakeshore 3/14-20

2010-03-19T16:17:00.002-05:00

We've had many old friends come to visit this week to remind us of the time of year. Women's Emmaus is currently here on spiritual retreat. I can see a group of women walking down the road towards Pilot's Knob, so they must have given them a break to get out and enjoy this beautiful day. It is a almost nostalgical type of spring day. The temperature is warm, the sun is bright. The buds are visible on the trees, preparing themselves to pop open and shade the ground with new leaves. Basketball is on the television almost constantly, and baseball spring training is on the radio. We opened the windows today in the office, and the smell of cut grass floated up from down the hill. The animals have begun to make their presence known as well. In cabin 7, the women were startled to find that there was one more guest last night than they expected. It munched on a leftover package of crackers and kept someone up past bedtime. But, it didn't stop with the fury little creatures. Some wasps woke up and came to visit cabin 8. Jim went to the cabin armed with a broom, hoping to take down the nest, but he didn't see one.

Our Oxley and Wilderness Directors, Tiffany Dowdy and Alyssa Jones respectively, came down to meet for some director training earlier this week. Alyssa got some fire building training. As we were at the Waterfront fire-ring sifting through some ashes to get the fire ready, a small bug flied up out of the ashes, and I recognized it as the first mayfly of the year. In just a few months we'll have more than we want to deal with about every two weeks. But, for yesterday, one little mayfly sprang up from the burnt wood like magic. You never know what you're going to find when you go digging things up.

Earlier in the week I went out on the disc golf course to get rid of some barbed wire that had been found near the course. Before Lakeshore was Lakeshore, there was an old home place near our high ropes course and the sewage treatment area sites. There is a long line of metal fencing, left over, I guess, marking property or marking a pasture. Here now, we want our disc golf course to be challenging, but we don't really want tetanus to be one of the challenges disc golfers have to endure. So, I went out with cable cutters and came back with tougher hands, rust stains on my jogging pants, and more rusty fencing than any of us care to deal with. While clearing the fences from hole 12, I found the corner of a piece of tin sticking up. It was a strip that might be used on a tin roof. I had tried to pull it out before, but it was obviously under the dirt some, and I didn't spend much time on it. On this day, I became determined to get this tin out of the ground. I was a bit confused by how difficult the little piece of tin was to get out. I kept kicking away dirt and finding out more and more. By the end of the task (which took at least 20 minutes), I had about 6-7 feet of tin, and had had to cut several roots as big around as my thumb to get it out. It was amazing to me how quickly these roots had grown over this piece of metal. It took a great deal of maneuvering to get the metal out. It's not always difficult to remove even the things you know aren't good to be where they're at.

Travis and Jim have spent a good bit of the week working on the waterfront. Corky had surgery on his rotator cuff this week, and has been out of commission(though Josh could probably tell you some funny loritab related stories). The guys are redoing the boardwalk with hopes that it will be more stable over the years. They rerouted it so that it turns off earlier on the beach to get to the dock. The dock, now, doesn't get as close to the shore where the river tends to rise and move the dock. The new location can be sunk into the ground a little better.

I saw two other old friends of ours, back for a visit, for the first time today. The pair of Canada Geese showed up on the waterfront. If things go right they'll be followed around by a set of goslings in just over a month. I walked down to the beach to deliver a message to Travis and watched them picking around near the soccer field for food. One of them was nosing around for food in the ground, and the other had its neck high, standing watch for the other. I imagine them as an old married couple who always come back to us on their anniversary to raise some more kids. They are almost always together. It is one of my favorite noises here to hear them get startled and flee to the water, honking with a high pitched squeak similar to the voices of the junior high boys who will be visiting the camp before we know it.

We are lucky to welcome all these. As I welcome all the great things of march: the sun, the leaves, our geese couple, fresh cut grass, baseball, insects, summer staff applications, the NCAA tournament, and people in love with this place we call Lakeshore, I hope never to forget how lucky we are to get to welcome all these things from year to year.

Be in prayer for the Women's Emmaus walk that will be here the rest of the weekend and the Boy Scout group staying in our tent and trailer area. And, get out and enjoy this weather.

Day 3 of the Lewis and Clark adventure

2010-03-15T14:12:00.002-05:00

This week at Lakeshore 3/7-13

2010-03-12T14:13:00.002-06:00

It is interesting how when things change, we can get thrown off so much that we forget to do those things that have become habit to us. There are times we even forget to do something as regular as eating. I've gone through an entire afternoon, then wonder why I'm feeling so hungry. It then dawns on me that I left out lunch. These things happen when other things change in our daily routine. For me, last week, I just forgot to write a blog for the week of 2/28-3/6. I don't even remember exactly how my scheudlue was different; I mainly remember Saturday evening getting into bed and realizing the blog hadn't been done.

We are at the point in the year at camp where we behave towards the weather as those in love who have been hurt too often. We love what it feels like today. We really want to put on T-shirts and shorts all day. We want to pack away all sweaters, coats, and tobaggins. We want to put our flowers in the ground. We want to plan for days canoeing, spending the entire time under the sun. We want to read our books on porches rather than recliners. But, we remember last month. We have been fooled before by a pleasant day, only to have our hopes dashed by freezing temperatures and precipitations. So, we have not yet given our hearts to spring and it's mild temperatures. The fire wood has not yet been moved away from the building. We are not ready to let go completely.

As the weather progresses towards summer, we are reminded in other ways that summer is quickly approaching. The summer staff applications have begun to pour in in steady streams each day with the rest of our mail. The summer campers are also putting their names on the list to join us for summer 2010. Very soon, summer camp will engulf the permanent staff's world. It will take the majority of our time and efforts. For now, though, we are reluctantly resisting these imminent changes.

On some days, we have opened the windows and doors to let nature control our temperatures. We are hearing more birds. The winds pick up, sometimes strong enough we mistake them for oncoming vehicles. This year, I have learned the noises that our woodpeckers make (besides the pecking noise). As I've become conscious of the sounds, I've noticed so many more woodpeckers around camp. It's become an enjoyable pastime while walking around camp to pick out their calls, then locate them with my eyes. They are larger than the average song bird and therefore easier to see. I can remember a time, when I first moved in here, that woodpeckers would frequently wake me up around dawn, slowly pecking on my roof. I thought about doing some horrible things to those birds, but they have desisted, and now I enjoy their prescence. It's funny how these things change.

Out our windows this week, Vickie and I made note of a sound we had not heard in quite a while. It was the turning blades and engine of Lakeshore's lawnmower. In this case, I think it was mostly a short run to make sure everything is in working order before the onslaught of grass in our future arrives. But, there it was, reminding us of sounds to come, right along with the frogs and crickets who have also begun to sound off.

Gary and Vickie recently made a run to Sam's to restock the canteen (we have a conference youth retreat of nearly 200 this weekend). I noticed today that we had a box of tootsie roll pops in the office for guests and hungry staff. I have been fasting since Thursday night, as I've done each week of Lent. My time was up, and I decided to break the fast with a new Pomegranite flavored Tootise Pop. It was very nice, but made even sweeter by the fact that I had had so little recently. I hope that this appreciation stays with me.

This weekend, we have the aforementioned Jr/Sr. High Conference Youth Retreat as well as a group from Ebeneezer UMC. Let's pray that this time is one our guests can appreciate.

Troy's Lakeshore Lewis and Clark Trip Day 2

2010-03-03T15:04:00.002-06:00

This week at Lakeshore 2/21-27

2010-02-28T01:16:00.002-06:00

In thinking about this week, it is difficult not to think of the two weekends that bookended this week. The beginning of this week saw another group of potential counselors for counselor certification. I had such a good time with this group, helping them begin to see this place through the eyes of a counselor. We acted out together what it would be like to round up a group of campers amidst the chaos of canteen. We broke up fights. We welcomed kids to the cabin on their first day. It was a time of fun, and, I think, some valuable lessons, as well.

Though there's never really anything that can prepare you for the actual experience, it is good, now and then, to imagine or pretend--to get ourselves as ready as possible for what we might encounter. It helps us dream. It helps us see ourselves as we may someday be. I've spent many years wondering and plotting who I would be now. The things I would someday do for my wife. The things I might say to someone experiencing tragedy. I would look at this possible version of myself and be hopeful that I will say and do the right things.

This week, we had our Board of Trustees meeting, and we had a very nice crowd. We introduced our new Development Officer, Bill Walker, and we celebrating Kathy Kaigler's birthday. We approved new maintenance projects to the docks and boats. We approved a budget and new mission statement. During these times, there is a great deal of vision among all of us. We sit down and talk in these meetings, and there are so many dreams being shared, so many different visions for this place. We could spend hours sitting and talking about all the things that could happen at Lakeshore and all the ways we see God working.

The river is down very low this week. It has sunk low enough, that you can walk from the Oxley Cabin past the normal shore line onto one of the islands in the river, all on dry ground. I always jokingly refer to it as, "crossing the land bridge," as if it was the gap between Russia and Alaska that the original Native Americans crossed. But, when you see that land that isn't normally visible, it's easy to imagine what that must have been like. You follow a heard of reindeer across this patch of land that looks fairly new to you. Before you know it, the ice has melted, and you are shut off from the old and in a new land. These times are exciting and scary.

This weekend, we are doing the 30 Hour Famine. I am typing several hours after our first meal since Friday around noon. A group of about 190 people took 30 hours without food to experience a portion of what it's like to be truly hungry. I hope, as we eat, and our bodies adjust back to regular meals--as that mindset of hunger that we had for a pretty short time leaves us, that we wake up in a new place, seeing things through different eyes. I hope we find ourselves in a new place. A place we've dreamed of, but something even better than dreams. Something exciting and scary. Something totally new.

Pray for those here at the 30 Hour Famine, that this helps them see in a new way. Also, pray for everyone in this world who is hungry. May we each find a way to feed someone.

This week at Lakeshore 2/14-20

2010-02-20T00:32:00.002-06:00

If there were to be any consistent themes this week at Lakeshore, I guess they would be snow and tables. Snow came back by to visit again, like a friend who you generally just see once a year. Then, something strange happens, and you begin to see this friend more often. Maybe something clicks that never clicked before, and you start spending more time together. A casual friendship becomes something deeper. Snow has realized what a good friendship Lakeshore offers, so it has come back to visit frequently in the past few months. Even as the temperatures have climbed to an encouraging level, we still have snow hanging around. As with any guests, I'm still happy to have the snow around, but I bit tired our from hosting it for so long. I don't resent the snow, necessarily, but it does take adjustments.

To adjust to the scrapbooking retreat this weekend, Lakeshore has increased its table supply. A retreat of 3 solid days of scrapbooking requires lots of table space for all the pictures, stencils, albums, etc. that go into putting together a scrapbook. So, we've called in for every flat table we can find--even borrowing from First Methodist to use some of their tables. There are times in life when even the largest thing you can imagine is not the largest that you encounter. It's like when you go to the mall and you see all those empty parking spaces on wonder why on earth people thought they would need that many. Then, you show on Christmas and realize there may not even be enough. Depending on when you drop by, it may confound you or make perfect sense.

One thing I was finally able to do this week with the snow melt was to take pictures of our sailboat. I've mentioned the sailboat in previous posts, but we are at a standstill for using it. I put out a message across the conference and had several people offer to help. The person I'm talking with asked me to send pictures of the boat, and since then, I've either been out of town the boat has been covered in snow. Earlier this week, I got to take the tarp down and snap pictures. For me, looking at this boat, much of it looks strange. But all of it could be pretty normal to a sailor. I sent these pictures off, and heard a response the next day. He said, "Wow...it is old but probably usable." I was happy to see those words. I'll keep you updated on future sailboat happenings.

Our Wilderness and Oxley Directors (Alyssa Jones and Tiffany Dowdy respectively) came to camp today to meet with me. We begin these meetings in the fall to prepare them for directing camps. It felt fantastic outside today, and we ate lunch on my back porch watching the birds who came to the bird feeder and my cats, who were hoping the bird feeder might become a cat feeder. They decided to come in at just the right time. The sun was out, and it was warm enough to be outside without too much bother. I love the times when an obligatory date that a group chooses to come up turns out to be a perfect day weather-wise at Lakeshore. For sure, there have been plenty of days where a ropes group comes in amidst tornado warnings or a wilderness group books for the coldest night of the winter. But there are also the groups that come up on the very day that the fall colors hit their most vivid. The groups that get the first warm spring day after weeks of chills and rain.

We felt it nice enough to do our meeting about staff interviews on the waterfront, sitting on the deck where the 2 Aquatics Directors we hire will stand and help campers into canoes and kayaks. The river looked smooth today like liquidy dunes. We could see two blue herons in the distances flirting around. To our side geese were honking. And a bat flew across, skimming the water, hoping to find an early bug.

Corky, Travis, and Jim didn't manage to get the bridge to the pontoon boat dock back up. It feel off the dock when the water changed level. So, if you want to get to that dock, these days, you have to take a flying leap. Then, when you get there, you have to somehow get back. It will be a difficult task to get it back there. They said someone may have to take a dip. We spent a long time there, talking about the future of this place and the part we will get to play in determining that future. It is a time when we will all drop in along with countless applicants, all wanting to come and have an extended visit in the summer of 2010. I hope for their sake, it's as nice a day as it was today.

This weekend we have our Scrapbooking retreat and this year's first class of Counselor Certification. Pray that everyone's experience is one that makes them better. Until next week...

This week at Lakeshore 2/7-13

2010-02-12T16:25:00.002-06:00

This week opened on Sunday with our Conference Confirmation Retreat finishing up. We had over 70 campers and nearly 40 adults here for the event. The group spent long stretches of time in session learning more about what it means to be a United Methodist, which, no matter how dynamic a presentation is put forth, will tire out the most dedicated of students. I was impressed by how, for the most part, our campers were involved in everything throughout the weekend. They paid attention in sessions and got involved in worship, and, on top of that, they were always excited and energetic. After they left, I took some time to rest, canoed out to fossil point, took a hike, and saw a red fox trotting up the hill to get away from me. In the evening we hosted the Camden 1st Methodist Youth group's Superbowl party at the Alford Rec Center. I feel like this building is made to host Superbowl parties. While, the Colts fans in the group were disappointed, the food was good, and the Apples to Apples was quite amusing.

That night, during the Superbowl halftime show (most of the youth didn't seem to care too much about The Who), a group of us went outside to play some full court basketball. There were 3 youth who were filling a little full of themselves, and challenged the rest of us to a game (about 5 or 6 of us). It's interesting to watch how sports strategies change as you get older. When I was young, I had so much confidence in my body, my speed, my strength, that I primarily relied on that. All I needed to do, in my mind, was to run faster, push harder, give it just a little more than the other guy, and I would be successful. This was the strategy, I think, of the 3 who challenged us. I found many times throughout my youth, that my strategy of pure athleticism often lost out to the older, less athletic competitors who just outsmarted me. Now that I can't always rely on my back or knees like I used to, I've had to begin leaning on my wits more. And, I wonder why I didn't do this all along. I immediately informed my team that each time we got a rebound, someone should sprint down court ahead of everyone for the easy lay-up. Since our competitors only had 3, we would outnumber them every time, and they would be tired very soon. Even though we probably did not compare as far as athleticism and skill went, we beat them very handily.

On one particular play, someone threw a pass that Sam tried to intercept. He was running at full speed, with only the ball in his sights. I know this because he completely overlooked the parked SUV that he was quickly approaching. He slammed into the vehicle at full speed. There was a thunk noise, and Sam went to the ground with the speed of a bird that flew into a clean window. There were no dents on the vehicle, and, thankfully, he was alright, but I'm sure he was sore the next day. There's something to be said for that kind of all-out intensity, but, there's also something to be said for a calculated, thought-out plan (for instance looking up every now and again when you're running at full speed). But these are things for us to learn as we change and life changes. If we figured it all out while our bodies were still in their prime, we'd be a little too powerful for our own good.

I believe we are truly experiencing a winter this year in Benton County. So often, by now, we would have had several days reaching the 50s or even 60s in between these cold snaps, but winter seems to have a firm grasp on us. Snow has been on the ground all week, and they are calling for more on Sunday. It seems that snow is wonderful to us while it's still a novelty, but after the novelty wears off, snow losses a good bit of it's popularity. We love for it to interrupt a few days, so that we can take a break, do some sledding, build some type of snow edifice. Interruptions are fine so long as they don't last too long. We seem to want only momentary lapses from the norm, but when they last too long, we grow weary quickly. Here in West Tennessee, we so often complain about how little snow we get. But, ask someone from North Dakota how they feel about snow. I bet they look at it less nostalgically. Because, snow changes things for us. We can't drive the same. We can't dress the same. We can't even walk the same. We can deal with that for a day, but a week? I got things to do, you know.

I took Bill Walker (our new development officer) out to the back part of our property to show him the boundaries and a place I want to develop a scenic overlook area. When we got to the overlook, the gray skies opened up and began dropping snow all around. We did not expect it to stick this time, but before we made it back to camp, there was a lining of snow on the ground. It definitely made the visibility at the overlook below it's best, but the snow is a scenery itself. We tromped around through the partly frozen, partly muddy ground, and Bill got to see the Wilderness Camp for the first time. He got to see the place where his daughter had had some formative experiences years before. We walked the ridge that had recently been lumbered and talked about changes. The changes in this place since the trees had been cleared. The changes that we hope will come to this place. All this as the snow fell around us and the sun went lower and lower onto the horizon behind a curtain of clouds.

This weekend, we do not have any groups in. We have already begun setting up the many tables it will take to host the Scrapbooking Retreat next weekend. As we prepare for this next round of snow heading our way, here's to love and change and love that lasts through those changes in our lives. Happy Valentine's Day to all of you, and whether you are single, involved, in something "complicated," or completely committed to someone forever, know that there is someone out there that loves you very much. Have a good weekend everyone.

2010-02-11T09:40:00.002-06:00

Back in September of 2009, I took a 4 day backpacking trip into the unused woods of Lakeshore. I took a map and compass and learned a lot about the rest of Lakeshore's property. I kept a journal and took video along the way. This is the footage from the first day of my adventure. Day 2 is coming soon.

Animoto.com

2010-02-09T16:39:00.001-06:00

This week at Lakeshore 1/31 - 2/6

2010-01-29T16:35:00.003-06:00

Whenever you have a big snow, it is inevitable that you will have a big melt. This was that week at Lakeshore. I'm sure that it was sunny at some point this week, but in my mind it seems as if the skies were pretty well gray each and every day. I woke up early several days this week to run, and I ran to Eva Beach and back. This is about 3 miles, which sounds pretty good, but loses a bit of glamour when you compare it to the 6 miles I was running just a month ago. On Monday when I ran, there were places where my steady jogging form turned into more of a speed skating form. The road to Eva Beach did not get the sun or the salt trucks that the main highway did, so I had to be very careful so as not to slip and bring on a soreness unrelated to the running. By Thursday morning, the only snow left were piles that had been pushed together when pushed off the road. As you walk around camp, even now, you see places where snow is still hiding from the sun. I first thought someone had dumped trash down one of our hills, then realized it was just the last holdouts of snow.

On Tuesday, Lakeshore did some traveling, as I went to Moscow (Tennessee not Russia) to do teambuilding for Collierville UMC's staff. There was a group of 20 or so people who were having a staff retreat to rest and bond. They spent the morning making crosses from items they brought from home and other supplies. Then we spent the afternoon doing trust exercises. It seemed to go so fast. Before I knew it, it was time for us to finish, do worship, then leave the retreat center in Moscow. It was, though, great to get to interact with such a thriving staff. Afterwards, I took some time to write in my journal, but felt the need to also do some exploring, to stop off somewhere new. To pull my car over on the side of the road at some small creek or river. Maybe get out at a cow pasture and watch them picking through the grass. I've recently been thinking that trips down highways like these should be interrupted by an occasional stop to take in the scenery for a moment.

But, I did not stop. I was behind schedule a little more than I felt I should be, so I pushed on. I do plan to make this time someday, I guess when I can discipline myself a little better for time. For me, these things come in phases. There was a time when I couldn't make myself get up to eat breakfast, a time when I didn't make the bed, a time when I found it hard to have time to even pray. But there comes these points when something clicks (or at least I hope they come). Something melts off of us and we don't feel so restricted. We can do this thing, and what was holding us back does not seem so significant.

An old friend, Philip, came up this afternoon to scout out a bridge building project he is preparing for a youth retreat later. The plan is to build a bridge across the creek on the Lowe Trail, which has been under construction for the past several years. The trail is pretty near completion for any guest to hike, and this bridge will definitely add a nice touch to it. We walked out to the spot, which is fairly deep in the woods. It will take some work just to get the supplies to this remote area. We were near the creek for much of our trip. With the snow melting and the rain we've had today, the creek was running pretty strong. You could hear it as you approached. I love these times when the creek is so strong. You see how water flow can change. How it can rise when all that rain and former snow come together, all marching towards that same place. It is a sight to see.

It seems that the gray will be hanging around for at least a few more days, before we see blue skies and feel the warmth of sunlight on our faces. But, there is plenty going on here. That gray in the sky will, at some point, add up enough water that it will fall down to us, soak into the ground to feed us, or just rush right by, onto something bigger than we can imagine.

This weekend we have the Conference-wide confirmation retreat. Be in prayer for them and the journey they have begun with the church. We also have a person here taking a few solitary days in one of our small cabins to be alone in prayer. Pray for his time and that we all get some time like this. See you next week.

This week at Lakeshore 1/24-30

2010-01-29T16:35:00.002-06:00

In trying to think about this entire week, it's very difficult not to just focus on the snow that's falling right outside my window even now at the end of the day. From what it looks like, the snow will continue to fall until sometime well into tomorrow. I have carved a path through this snow three times today, and my tracks have been covered over each time to where I could barely make them out. Fridays like this make you forget there was even a Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday. Today feels like something completely new. If you're lucky enough to get to stay at your house for the day, you open the blinds, and white light pours in. Things feel fresh and crisp. You see the songbirds so clearly, hopping around, looking for seed. It's like a new chapter of your life beginning--you could be snowed in for days--and you're really not all that concerned.

This week we were supposed to have an Orders of Fellowship of clergy come in on Thursday and Friday. They cancelled as the forecast became more and more certain of itself. We waited as long as we could to see if it might be a little overinflated, but we also decided to cancel our 2009 summer staff and counselor reunion that was supposed to go through the weekend. It seemed too dangerous to risk all those young people driving from all across the state on snowy, icy roads, no matter how much fun we might have once they got here. I can imagine how it might be, though, snow men and snow forts all over camp. People rolling down hills on anything they can find. Snow balls flying everywhere you turn--I'm sure, eventually, several misguided ones flying in through the door.

But the only ones here this weekend will be the permanent staff members brave or crazy enough to drive a car down here or walk. I thought today how, even 100 years ago, weather like this wouldn't be too much of a cause for concern. Most roads were not paved. And, most people would likely still get here by horse, carriage, or train. This snow might make things more uncomfortable for passengers, but not nearly as dangerous as starting up the car and driving on icy pavements. There are times that our new stuff that generally works better has some downsides that only show themselves occasionally. I think about how fantastic it would be on a day like today to harness up a team of horses, hop in a sleigh, and look at all of this, with no worries of crashing into someone or having your brakes lock up. If only our staff and counselors had a sleigh or a train to hop on. We could meet them at the station in Camden or even Eva with our own sleigh, our horses breath visible right in front.

As I walked down the hill from lunch today, retracing my steps from earlier that were nearly invisible, I saw about 10 deer running along the hillside across from me. They spread out all over the hill, taking different routes to get away from me. I looked at their prints just down the trail. They had been right where I was standing moments before. There were large spaces between tracks where they lept through the air when they heard me approaching. I could not hear them, distracted by the shivering of beech leaves and wind bringing snow and freezing it into my beard. The trees, the hill, the deer are all so much more visible in this new landscape. These colors don't blend like normal into a gray and brown. It looks new.

It is exciting to see thing in terms of "first." Corky and I went around camp earlier this week looking for places to plant some new trees that came into camp recently. There are small ornamental trees that will be fine to grow anywhere, but there are others that we want to be particular about where we plant them. We decided to plant a River Birch on the hillside above the waterfront, between the boardwalk and the vesper ramp. We decided to plant a Canadian Hemlock on the hillside between the administration building and Hopper Lodge. There is something impatient and excited going on inside me when we plant these trees. I am excited to be able to feel that I have seen this tree put in the ground. That I knew it as a twig. One day, maybe, these trees will tower over us, and I will know them in a new way. But today, I can know them as infants, so fragile. I want, when I am old, to come back and see these trees and know how something can grow over time if the conditions are right. I want to walk around and remember. To see how places change and think about how I will have changed.

A salt truck just passed by, trying to keep some semblance of a road going from Eva to the state park. It will be dark soon, but not the kind of dark you would have in warmer weather. Every bit of light will be reflected and we will find our way home much easier. I will continue to think, too, about when I walked to the waterfront earlier today. Everything was veiled in white except the river. It was browner than I think I have ever seen it. The mist of snow was so thick that I could not see the shores of New Johnsonville, so that muddy water could have been coming from the other side of the world, just finishing its journey.

Hope you all get to play in this world we have for these next few days.