My reflection paper for Field Ed

The past nine weeks have left me exhausted. This was my third field education placement and my third year as staff at this camp – and yet I feel as though I was still unprepared for what waited for me this summer.
As program director and chaplain, not only am I an intern, but I am also a boss. I have a direct supervisor who has been at the camp for twenty years and is an ordained elder. I share responsibilities with two other senior staff and manage twelve counselors. These counselors are between the age of seventeen and twenty-three (which proves to also be a huge difference in maturity levels as well). I am responsible for reviewing their weekly schedules, disciplining their unruly campers, evaluating their performance as staff, and managing any other crises that may arise.
One of my counselors has abusive parents. Two are dealing with their parents’ complicated divorces. One has been in the care of his demanding aunt and uncle since he was taken from his parents ten years ago. Another nearly overdosed after a difficult break up about a year ago. Two counselors have started a relationship and are overly affectionate around campers. One decided to quit two days before our last day of camp. I have been with them twenty four hours a day, six days a week.
Along with the varied histories of my staff, each week brings different backgrounds and personalities among the children who attend camp. We’ve had a child whose father appeared uninvited, a child who had nightly bedwetting issues, several children in foster care, almost all of the children from broken families, the handful of kids who have unusual medical anomalies (such as the girl allergic to the outdoors or the boy with chronic nosebleeds), the adolescent who doled out death threats, and the countless children who suffer from homesickness. Each week brings new surprises.
I don’t mean to say that my entire summer has been a catastrophe. The truth is quite the opposite, and there have been moments where God’s presence has been powerfully overwhelming. I watched one of my counselors give a closing campfire message that brought me to tears: four years ago I was present at the closing campfire in which she committed her life to Christ. I connected with so many campers who just need someone to love. I’ve been humbled to take the broken body and blood of Christ from my broken counselors. I’ve been part of God’s obvious presence in ways I didn’t imagine God could appear. However, you cannot prepare for these moments – they don’t "get better" with practice.
I do struggle with being unprepared for the other issues. I struggle with how to give constructive criticism with a counselor who refuses to do her job. I struggle with how to pretend everything is okay when a camper’s grandmother died and she doesn’t know. I struggle with how to handle abusive parents telling me their daughter is terrible when she radiates Christ. I want to know when my education is going to kick in and give me the right words to say. I understand field ed is for developing these skills, but I feel like I’m not prepared for field ed.
I’m aware camp is an intensified immersion experience – working full time in the church did not bring this many issues over the course of two years – but I know similar issues will be part of my future. I just wonder if my theological education will contribute to the solutions I discover. I know I’m better able to lead worship, Bible study, and devotions from my education, but how am I to tell my counselors they risk their job without making them cry or lash out in anger? How do I gently tell a child it’s never okay to say “I hope God kills us all” without letting him think he’s off the hook for his behavior?
My question is this: How do I prepare for the practical part of ministry and why isn’t this a bigger part of divinity school? There is grace in wrestling with the answers but I feel like I’m not even getting an idea of what answers to avoid. As the summer comes to a close, I still don’t have an answer. I don’t want to disregard the importance of what I’ve learned in school thus far, but I feel like there is a huge gap I still have to navigate in dealing with issues of pain, frustration, anger, sorrow, and confusion.

Awake at 12:35 AM

I'm in the office alone. Next door to me, two teenage girls sit in a bathroom laughing together, waiting to see who will be the next to get sick. I am awake and waiting until one throws up for the third time tonight so I can call the camp director at some ungodly hour. Oh, the joys of being program director.
To be honest, this is the quietest this office has been in at least three weeks. No one else is awake except for the three of us, and I am by myself. I haven't been alone in a LONG time. I spent my last weekend with staff and it involved more work that the regular weekdays (including the mini-controversy of asking two staff members of the opposite sex not to sleep on top of each other in the presence of others). I am tired.

So it may now be 12:47 AM but I can feel a weight lifting from my shoulders. I am alone. No one can ask anything of me right now and there is such a freedom in these precious moments. They won't last long, but I have them.

And now, it's time for 6 hours of sleep to pass by too quickly.

Two weeks left

I am preparing for camp checkout. All the kids are packing their sleeping bags, sweeping their cabins, and saying goodbye. I'm here resting in the quiet that seems to only last for a moment (as I type this, my office is about to be vacuumed.) This week has been better - last week was mission week and it required every ounce of my energy just to survive.

This week consisted of about thirty campers. I was able to learn everyone’s name by Tuesday and develop relationships with them as the week progressed. Several children have adopted me as their “mommy” which I find humorous but enjoyable. They’re so excited to hug me, even my tough kids like Zion and Tre who spend the rest of their energy throwing rocks at each other. It’s been a good week.

It’s hard to describe how yesterday felt in comparison to the rest of camp. I received some negative feedback from a group last week that left me angry. Their words were spiteful and left me calling everyone I knew so I could vent. That’s all I really wish to say on that note.

Against that background, I prepared for evening worship. One of the counselors was leading the talk. This girl has been in my life since my first summer as program director, and through God, she has played a part in my spiritual journey. Her message was so powerful and poignant; I had to fight back tears. It was about placing baggage at the foot of the cross – it was more a dramatic interpretation than a sermon – but with the heavy words laying on my heart from earlier that afternoon, it was just what I needed to hear. The service ended with each person naming the burden that kept them from freedom in Christ and tacking it to our cross. We later burned these papers in the camp fire and sang in the darkness. After our final song, the worship leaders stayed around and played a couple more songs. It was fantastic to sing “Lean On Me” acapella, while hugging the campers and dancing around the fire. It was a worship service unlike any I’d participated in before. It was amazing.

God is so good.

This morning I was reminded again of how God’s grace can wash away even the most painful and stressful days. Two hours of worship could allow me to forget how inadequate someone else’s words made me feel and remind me why I’m really here. I’m hoping that the last two weeks of camp will be a beautiful reminder of why I’m even in Divinity School or even why I decided to work at camp. I pray that this isn’t the only worship service in the world that makes me feel this alive.

My "Off" Week

I am sitting in my office wondering why I couldn't be at the beach this week with the other staff. Overall, I've performed 2 hours of work that I had to be at camp for... the rest - I could've done from the phone. I'm tired. I want to be with my friends. And while Eric, Ann, and I have all be able to enjoy some free time together (and a visit from Ethan), we could be doing that somewhere other than here. I want my Sabbath, dang it!

This week isn't busy. The camp is being run by a group outside of Mt. Shepherd. They have everything under control and except for a couple of words exchanged at meals and bedtime, we have very little interaction with them. I think the reason I struggle so much with this is that I'm moving at a fast pace ALL THE TIME. There's no "in between" time here. It's either 110% or sleep. So now that I have some time to take it slow and amuse myself, I'm not sure what to do.

(Actually I just convinced Eric to watch Arrested Development with me though he's working on tying some accessory cord at the moment)

I hope I can get to a point where I accept free time... but for now, I'm about to drive myself crazy.

- Carley