I live in the land of Sky

Tonight, driving home from work, I saw the most amazing sunset. The sun itself was behind a bank of cloud and showed itself only as a band of orange through the purple/grey cloud. Above that was another thin band of cloud that was purple with the bottoms shining orange from the sun being beneath it. I think I need to start bringing m camera with me when I work evenings from now on.

Yes, I was back at the salad bar tonight. It was nice, though, because the Refuge was actually comming through on the little radio we have in the back. Donovan made me laugh tonight. Twice, actually. I'm just remembering the first incident right now. He cut his finger, apparently on a plastic container of strawberries (trust me, they can be viscious little buggers, especially when being opened). But our first-aid kit was out of bandaids, so he went off looking for another kit, but apparently nobody had any because he came back a bit later with a box of bandaids for our kit, whining about how hard it is to sign a charge slip when one's hand is bleeding. I realize that's not actually a funny story, but his reaction was just so Donovan of him that I had to share. No, the funny thing was when I was in the back cooler getting cases of broccoli, cauliflower, celery and carrots to cut up. He came in through the door to the produce cleaning room and asked why I hadn't asked for help with the celery I ad just pur on the cart. (Note: the celery cases are pretty much the heaviest ones we ever grab from back there.) I just smiled and told him I had everthing under control. I just thought that was a little weird. Although, when I do need help with something, Donovan is the only produce boy I can ask without feeling weird about it. I guess that's my tomboy nature showing though. I figure, if the produce boys can do it, I can do it. Maybe not exactly, since common sense would rule that they're all stronger than me. But that's just the way I am, independant to a fault.

Oh, so guess what else happened at work today? A certain co-worker of mine, who shall remain nameless for her own protection, had a bit of an accident. Bending down to sweep the dirt into the dustpan, she ripped her pants all down the back. I think this might be the first time I ever saw this happen in real life. And it wasn't just a little rip--it went ALL the way down. And this, of course, was only fifteen minutes before we had to start taking down the bar. I was sent on a mission to purchase safety pins out in the store, while she hid in the back room. This was deffinitely the strangest charge I ever made to our department, but we put the rest of the pins in the first-aid kit just in case they were ever needed again. The pins actually worked really well, and she made it home without further incident, but it made the night quite entertaining for me and the deli girls. Because, of course, anything interesting in the salad bar is shared with the deli girls, and vice versa.

I think that's enough about work.

I believe I already told you we've been trying to find me a good car to bring to school this fall. Well, on Monday, when dad gets off work, we're going down to Sioux Falls to look at one. Well, mabe several. At any rate, this is promising. I may actually get a car before I go back to school and, therefore, get used to it before I take it into heavy city trafic. Woot!

I miss being at camp. I miss spending the whole day outdoors. I miss the community of faith. I miss my fellow counselors. I miss the summer staffers, some more than others. I even miss my girls, as weird as they are. I miss being able to climb. I miss the feeling of crossing a single ridge and entering another world. The vast sky of the prairie is freeing as well, but even that is hard to see from my own backyard. I felt so much more alive in the mountains. And no, I'm not just griping because my allergies flared up over the past few days. (Seriously, there's gunk in my throat and fluid in my ears. But that's beside the point.) It was easier to connect with God at camp. For quiet time in the morning I could just sit out on our bench while the girls all did thier makeup in the cabin. And the whole day was centered around God, no matter how much some people tried to ignore that. (After campfire on Sunday night--the first night of camp, mind you--my cabin was pranked. A group of guys stole all four of our lightbulbs and put toothpaste on the doorknob. That was disgusting. It turned out to be freshmen boys who hadn't quite caught on to the fact that high school camp was supposed to be more focused and mature than junior high camp. Bother. At least Allan got us new lightbulbs fairly quickly once I told him.) I know it's always hard coming back to life in the real world after a "mountaintop" experience (no pun intended), but it's hard not to think wistfully about that week. Yes, it was hard work sometimes, and I'm Romanticising some of the memories even now, but Camp Judson has always been a place of power. No matter how I've come to camp, no matter my expectations or circumstances, no matter my spiritual state at the beginning of the week, I always come away changed for the better. It's in times and places like Camp Judson that I'm reminded that God is still speaking to us today. That God is still romancing each of us right now as we live. That God is still writing his magnificent story in which we all have a part to play. Sometimes, in the midst of busy life, it's hard for those things to seem real. But it is real. And I guess the best way to honor the place that reminds me of such truths is to keep them in my heart the other 51 weeks of the year until I can go back again.

-Kim