Well, I'm here at Camp Cherokee for another terrific summer. Things are exciting and busy, as always. For example, today I spent four hours driving boats, (complete with an injured camper waterfront drill), I tried to convince my cabin that resting during rest period was a good idea, tried to teach them how to clean a bathhouse properly (we got a perfect score, so either they learned well or I did too much;), dealt with a homesick camper (literally sick:( , and was recently subject to a frightening Indian raid, wherein the whole of camp was carried off by fierce-looking painted savages to the Teepees for the evening program. In between all that I've been busy taking trips to the ER (no more appendix--and hopefully I'll be able to keep the rest of my apparently non-vital organs), and trying to finish up the details to be able to go over to Ethiopia in a month. I've still got to mail things off to get my visa, figure out my insurance, and decide what to take with me; minor details like that.
Unfortunately, despite the awe-inspiring surroundings, despite the amazing, bountiful spiritual feast of camp meeting, despite the morning and evening chapel programs here at camp, the staff worships, our daily cabin devotions, and my own personal worship time (not as much of a priority as it should be), I'm not feeling alive in Christ. Somehow during the day, between my attempts to instill good behavior in my campers, the few witnessing moments I catch, and fights I stop, the relentless striving to be a competent staff member, the advice I give, I'm losing the little bit of the Lifewater I managed to scoop up in the morning. Dr. Clouzet shared a thought from an article by John Ortberg that I just recently recalled. It goes something like this, "One of the best things you can do to improve your spiritual life is to ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life."
I'll let you ponder that and take from it what you will.
This is what it means for me. If I don't have time for God, then I'm just a walking, talking exhibit from the wax museum, labeled Christian. I might look real, even act fairly nice, but it's just a sham.
God, I've lost You somewhere among the orderly chaos of my own pursuit of excellence. Help me to slow down and listen.