Jesus Loves the Little Children

The last night at Camp Star Trails is the the closing ceremony. Everyone gathers around a campfire and sings a little. Each child makes a wish and each cabin creates an object to represent these wishes and to throw into the fire. Of course, many people's wishes were for a brother or sister's cancer to go away or for cancer to disappear from the world. As each object is put into the fire, a candle is lit. These candles are put onto a star, which then floats down the lake. The campfire concludes with a fireworks show and popsicles.

Each girl in my cabin had a stick to represent her wish. The precious six-year-old with me was trying to decide what to wish for.

This little girl turned to me and said, "I wish that God would come down here to be with us."

Such a beautiful wish from such a beautiful child! After we threw our sticks into the fire she turned to me again, asking what the glowing things around the fire were. I explained that they were sparks and that the fire made them.

"Oh," she responded. "So the sparks are our wishes and they're flying up to God." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Yes. I think that's exactly what they are."

Children's minds are so imaginative, so perceptive and so beautiful.

A Nice Day for a Swim

It's hot and I'm sweaty and tired. A dip in the pool sounds lovely right  about now. Maybe an ice cream as well.

You Know You're Tired When... [Part 2]

You know you're tired when you try to fit yourself into a laundry bag.

This is the second installment of what is apparently becoming a new series. It was late one night - well, in reality it was only 10:20, but it sure felt late - and all of the girls were in bed. Karen and I were just chatting when a thought crossed my mind: I think I can crawl into my laundry bag. I proceeded to it and Karen followed suit. Once I had maneuvered my entire body into the bag, I realized just exactly what I was doing.

We got back today from Camp Star Trails. The week was fantastic, but also completely and utterly exhausting. We go, go, go all day. I had a cabin of nine 6-year-old girls. They were incredibly sweet and an incredible handful. It also meant that after long days full of activities, us counselors had long nights. Most nights we weren't able to sleep through the night because of kids sleepwalking, moaning, crying, falling out of bed, needing to change pull-ups, etc.

Our long actually began as soon as we left Houston, as it took us almost four hours to drive from Houston to the camp. This trip only took us an hour and a half coming back. I wish I could say that traffic slowed us down, but alas, it was missing our exits. Did you catch the plural there? We missed multiple exits. The first time we actually drove an hour past our exit. It was a long drive, though it thankfully included a pit-stop at Sonic.

I will post again soon with some of the highlights of camp.

Camp Star Trails

It’s been a long, hot week. The air conditioning went out and so, after spending one night in 90 degree heat and the next night curled up on couches and on the floor, we a couple of nights at the Rebman’s home. It was a welcome relief from the extreme heat outside and, unfortunately, inside.

I have been continuously struck by the generosity of all of the people who I come in contact with. It seems everyone is always looking out for ways to serve us (us being the interns). I am surrounded by people who are truly modeling the way of Christ and living their lives in service. I am so blessed to be able to witness this hospitality and to be a recipient.

We had yesterday off, and today we’ll head to camp for the week. I’m looking forward to spending time with kids again. I've never been a camp counselor before, though, so I'm sure it will be an experience. Camp Star Trails is run through MD Anderson and is a camp for children with cancer and their siblings.

Not too Far from Here

On Wednesday we headed over to MD Anderson to participate in the chaplain's weekly devotional. It was a good time of prayer and a fun time of singing. The chaplain who led the devo sang a song that really touched me. It speaks so directly to my work this summer, even addressing my fear of talking to new people.

Somebody's down to their last dime

Somebody's running out of time

Not too far from here

Somebody's got nowhere else to go

Somebody needs a little hope

Not too far from here

And I may not know their name

But I'm praying just the same

That you'll use me, Lord

To wipe away the tears

Cause somebody's crying

Not too far from here

Somebody's troubled and confused

Somebody's got nothing left to lose

Not too far from here

Somebody's forgotten how to trust

And somebody's dying for love

Not too far from here

It may be a stranger's face

But I'm praying for your grace

To move in me

And take away the fear

Cause somebody's hurting

Not too far from here

Help me, Lord

Not to turn away from pain

Help me not to rest

While those around me weep

Give me your strength and compassion

When somebody finds

The road of life too steep

You Know You're Tired When...

You know you’re tired when the doctors at the elevators notice and try to diagnose you.

Apparently I just looked really tired today, because I had a doctor approach me asking me if I was really tired. I told him yes, and he said my eyelids were drooping. He proceeded to ask me questions about how long I had felt that way, if it was a regular occurrence, etc. Unfortunately he had to get out of the elevator before he could fully diagnose me. I think in this case I can diagnose myself, however: not enough sleep and not enough coffee.

I only had three patients on my list today, so it was a short day visiting. I got a lot of reading done and a verbatim written. It's nice to be productive anyway.

I also discovered, along with several other of the hospital staff, that some of the elevators in St. Luke's are "child-proof". At least that's what someone said. Only four of the buttons can be pressed at one time. When that fifth button is pressed, all of them are canceled. We worked out a system by pressing the lower floor numbers first, and only pressing the higher numbers once some people had stepped off. It seems the elevators may be adult-proof too.

A Quiet Day with the Pagers

I step into the office to begin my long day, an 8-5 shift on call. My two pagers are burning hot, a constant reminder of my task. I'm waiting, impatiently, for the inevitable. For me, this may actually be the most difficult part - waiting, just sitting here unknowing. I like to know what's going on, and when. But the minutes turn into hours. It seems my shadowing actually prepared me perfectly for my day on call. 4:55 rolls around and I sit down with my supervisor to tell him about my day.

"It's been a quiet day," I explain. "I haven't had a single call."

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

And here we go, five minutes before it's time for me to leave. Luckily, at least at this point, it's not the code blue pager. I call the extension only to discover that a Catholic woman wants communion. I fill out a referral card and hand over the pagers.

And that was my excessively exciting day. Apparently if you have to be in a hospital, it should be while I am on call. You won't die or code.

As can happen when you have nine hours to sit around, I did a lot of reading and thinking today. In my reading I came across Psalm 27:1. I wear the first part of this verse on my finger every day, "The Lord is my light and my salvation." Beautiful words and a magnificent reminder. But I think I skip over the second half - "whom shall I fear?" I live my life in fear! I am terrified of so many things. Sometimes I feel like fear defines me. How sad.

Is this evidence of my lack of faith in God? Why can't I just let go and trust him? How do I entrust my life to God and what does this entail?

God,

Grant me peace when all I can understand is turmoil.

Grant me strength when all I can see are my failures.

Grant me comfort when all I can feel is darkness.

Grant me life when all I can fathom is death.

Help me to walk forward in your name when all I want to do is sit back where it's safe and comfortable.

On a lighter note, I think Houston turned into a sauna last night. Seriously, I stepped outside and could literally see the moisture in the air. It wasn't fog, just 700% humidity. It's how I image the rainforest.