Pines

Two stone pillars line the drive; reaching high into the sky as if beckoning you forward.   As you enter, questions that have lingered beneath the surface come bubbling up.  The whisper of will I fit in, will I belong catches in your stomach

There is a table with wooden chips, markers, and plastic string.  You make your name tag, survey the crowd, share a handshake in trepidation, and begin the small talk.  Staff members flit around the circles that have formed trying to calm the growing nerves.  

Schedules are announced, you make your bunk bed, you settle in, and try to find your people.  Training begins, the nerves calm and relationships slowly unfold. Staff pairings are announced, team bonding experiences are had, and the work of setting up your camp overtakes all of the nerves. Sunday arrives, you dawn your summer staff shirt and you stand before campers as an official Mountain TOP Summer staffer.  You begin leading campers from small rural towns to the big city, whose accents range from the deep south to the midwest, and whose church denominations span the gamet.  You learn the shortcuts across rural counties on the  Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee.  You work to understand the culture of the community that you serve, so as not to become someone who merely swoops in for one week during the summer but lets the people and places begin to seep into your being. You learn to lead worship (and to check your corners), and you learn prayer isn't just something you do in worship but an attitude you live, You learn to ask for help, to lean on each other, and to believe in yourself in ways that you never dared to do before. 

Before you know it, 8 weeks of camp (and RandR)  have passed and the pillars that seem so daunting upon your arrival and left you with so many questions are the very thing that whispers welcome home, you belong here.  

Long distant phone calls which once cost an arm and a leg have given way to text messages and Facetimes.  Weddings have been celebrated alongside the heartache of divorces. Weekend road trips to college campuses in other states have turned into flights and planned adventures across the US and beyond. Friday night skits and bonfires have given way to fires accompanied by adult beverages that lead to conversations about work, parents, children, and life.  Ordinary life has been lived and all along the way there has been a whisper of welcome home, you belong here interwoven in relationships that have held us up. 

The people you were suspicious of, are now your tribe.  Wondering if you would make any friends seems like a dream because your circle is wider than you deserve.

Thirty-plus years have since passed since you first drove between the stone pillars and your lives are intertwined in ways that you could have never seen as an 18-year-old summer staffer driving through these gates.  

Knowing that no matter how far you travel, how many years you have been away, and how many miles separate you from those for whom your life was interested there is a divine gift being welcomed home.  There is a gift and power in driving through the gates knowing that you are home, that you belong.  Welcome home, you belong here, which leads to celebrating life and death together.

Drive through the gates, cross the room, bring your full authentic self to the crowd, and make friends.  Do life together because when you do what you'll find is the whisper of belonging and the embrace of home.