Saturday, January 14, 2012

Grace Camp (Part One)

{This part one of a fictional story I wrote back in August. Fictional meaning it never happened, but I wrote it about my family and I. Part Two will be posted in the next week or two.}

It is silent. The morning light is just beginning to filter in around the closed shades. My phone jingles softly with the alarm that resembles the "Happy Day" song on Sesame Street. I start, quick to silence the sound that could potentially wake the family. I listen. Good. All remains still.

Pulling on jeans and a sweatshirt, I grab a small pile of things I had left out the night before.

Bible. Check.
Devotional. Check.
Notebook. Check.
Pen. Check.

I slip past the curtain that separates the bunk room from the rest of the camper. Slip past Ellie, twirling her hair as she sleeps. Slip past Hannah, who shifts slightly and my heartbeat races until she finds her paci and rolls over again.


I hold back a sigh of relief and write a note.

6:15. Going to the beach for bible study. Be back by 7. Lindsey

I slide open the lock. Hold the door open while I slide out trying not to bang it.

Again, I listen. I can’t hear a sound. I smile.

Gravel crunches under my feet as I walk. I wave at the lady a few tents down, another lady who needs her time with Jesus before the busyness of the coming day. I stop in the bathrooms, splashing the cold water over my face and pulling back my hair. Already, someone is in the shower and I hear the water falling, raining down on a dirty body, raining down on a soul that needs cleansed.

Wash me today, Lord. Rain on me.
I continue on.

Past the quiet tents and campers. Past the animals beginning to stir in their pens. I reach it.

The beach.

I smile.

Joy is invading my soul.

I look around.

I am alone. Just me and Jesus.

I make my way to the cross, standing there on the sand, proclaiming to all that this, this is a place of rest. I sink down into the coolness of the ground. the breeze plays with my hair and I close my eyes. And breathe.


Breathe in the fresh lake air, the pine trees around the trail.

Breathe in the scent of coffee drifting from another early riser’s pot.

I breathe again. Peace.

Lord, fill me. I am ready. I am Yours.

1 comment:

Janelle said...

I am curious... Is this story connected to the title of your blog?