This past weekend we got to spend the day at one of our favorite places, Maranatha, which is the camp I grew up going to (not just for summer…actually I didn’t go for summer that much because I was a homesick child, but rather with my family and my church). It is the camp I worked as a counselor in college, and most importantly to the story of my life, it is where Gerrit and I met and fell in love.
(You may have read a couple of weeks ago about the fundraising effort going on to save the camp, and I beyond thrilled that the goal was met and the camp will continue to survive.)
To take Evelyn out for the first of what I hope are many fun days at camp, was a treat. She loved it. We could hardly drag her away from the lake front. She loved running across the field. She was very interested in the camp crafts, and she joined in singing songs. She (and the dog) both crashed before we got home.
When Gerrit and I started dating while working as camp counselors, I never thought to imagine these kinds of moments. I knew I would want camp to always be an important part of my family’s life, but I never thought to hypothesize about what exactly it would be like to bring my children there. But there we were, walking back and forth to the car to change diapers or get sunscreen on the same little path where Gerrit and I first walked together and he asked me out.
And while it may not be quite as exciting this time, I think it’s definitely better.
