Wednesay morning, July 21st, my husband, myself, and our five kids embarked on a trip to camp with our Family Ministry group to Scotts Flat Lake. If you count the coolers, bikes and sleeping bags, there were about 26 of us. We piled into our Ford Expedition, stuffed to the gills with gear and food and people and chatter, and started on our journey!
Well, it should have taken an hour and a half, but we had to stop twice in the first hour to check the baggage and the bike rack and make sure everything was secure. Then well, we decided it would be a good idea to "fill-up" the tank. Then we had to stop so one of the younger boys could pee…never mind that we had JUST left the gas station fifteen minutes earlier. Then we had to stop at a grocery store to pick up ice and batteries for the flashlights. It was one of those drives that “we’ll laugh about later”...(god help us on a longer trip}. Ha ha!
Finally, after almost 2 hours on the road (I know, not very long, but still...}, we finally arrived at our desstination....Scotts Flat Lake and we were greeted by the Payan and Wharton families. Before we knew it, we were in such a peaceful place...a place where we could put some space between ourselves and the day-to-day grind, the commonplace routine that’s so fast-paced and goal-oriented.
Before I knew it, our stressful car ride was behind us. There was no rush, because in a way, time did not matter. It was time to enjoy each other and appreciate the moment we were in.
Yes, camping is al lot of work!! And when people ask me how the camping trip went, it’s tempting to tell the story of bug-bites, one of the kids tripping into the fire, keeping track of all the kids in the lake, 2 yr old melt-downs, etc.. Those are the stories that get the sympathetic sighs. It’s the easy stories to tell, because we can all relate to chaos, and things not going the way they’re supposed to.
But the stories that really matter are the ones about the kids--big and small --playing baseball on a make-shift baseball field, cheering each other on, or a quiet evening gathered around a campfire while friends and siblings sing and entertain each other and the adults, .the stories about big kids teaching the younger kids to weave and play new games, families and friends bonding over quiet conversations, runs in nature and hanging out on the beach enjoying each other, appreciating the moment we were in… and of course the joy of celebrating mass together outdoors as a community--I think these are the stories that matter the most!
The chaos and mishaps will always be with us parents, to large and small degrees, in ways that make for funny memories later and ways that just make you wish you could forget. Confusion and calamities are always noticeable; they demand our attention. But the quiet, slow moments of pleasure don’t scream out or jump in our faces. They require us to notice them, and to acknowledge them, to ourselves and to each other and to the people we tell. Because the things we choose to recount will often be the things we most strongly remember later. And I want to remember the campfire skits, the silly songs, the bicycle rides, and the opportunity to share a weekend and common purpose with families that share faith and similar values..
And that, I think, this is the real story of our camping trip...from the Gordon's perspective
Here a some photo highlights...(more pics coming soon...not able to upload them all right now!..check back soon}
Family Ministry enjoyed a fun afternoon visiting residents of a local senior home. We hung Christmas Wreaths that were lovingly made by our ministry families on the doors of the residents' rooms. The children played games with some of the seniors while we visited with them. The afternoon was concluded with a festive performance of Christmas carols and playing of very loud instruments by the smallest children in the group.
