'Can you tell me why you have seven pairs of Chacos in your closet?'It was one of the first things someone said to me when I moved up here. Mostly I wanted to ask him why he had been looking in my closet, but since I was still new here, I refrained. And since he had said 'Chacos' and not 'sandals', I felt like I was in good company.
Because, when you've worked at a camp as long as I did, you start to form collections of random things that don't always fit into the 'real world' (at least not in excess). Chacos, frisbees, nalgenes, athletic shorts, t-shirts, swimsuits, etc. I'm 28 and I don't even know what 28-year-olds are supposed to wear, nor do I really own anything that's suitable for this 'new' life. It's kind of been this hilarious process of asking my younger roommates for fashion advice, for clothes to wear (I didn't grow up with sisters, so this has been a very stretching situation), in addition to delaying the inevitable shopping trip to make my wardrobe match my new lifestyle.
Because, when you've worked at a camp, you know how to do things like belay, and facilitate group development, and lead debriefs, and help bring fuller meaner into weird experiences (like putting twenty kids on a tarp and asking them to flip it over without anyone stepping off of it). You know how to lead small group discussions and Bible studies and sit in awkward silence while you wait for people to muster up the courage to respond to a challenging question. You know how to ask open-ended questions and you know what it means when someone says the phrase, 'challenge by choice'.
Because, when you've worked at a camp, you know how to work hard. You know how to scrub toilets and mop floors. You get a little excited inside when someone mentions the word 'Hobart' because it brings back a million memories of dish room antics and the hours you spent sorting, spraying, unloading, and putting away hundreds of dishes. You know that all the long hours and the manual labor is a part of something bigger and that makes the aching backs, the sweat, the tired feet worth it.
In my earlier years at camp when I would facilitate groups (especially the school groups), teachers used to always ask me what I was doing next. It was always as though camp could never be the end goal for me. While it wasn't, I often remember wondering what in the world I would ever be equipped to do. My degree was a BA in Communications and I wasn't really sure what that really meant, let alone what type of job I could get with it.
So here I am... 7 months after leaving my job full-time at camp, with a strange assortment of belongings, with a skill-set that hardly seems applicable to anything having to do with graduate school, but with a mentality that things are worth it when the end goal involves the Gospel.
In the last few weeks I've gotten two new jobs. One involves me working with youth who have significant emotional, behavioral or mental health needs in a one-on-one setting. Would you believe that my background and experiences while working at camp helped secure the position? Things like how I learned to work with students who have ADHD or knowing how to respond in situations when abuse is reported...
The other job involves the outdoors, college students, high ropes, group development, and camping. I'll be a co-instructor for a college course where we will take mostly freshman through a seven week long class that 'uses adventure learning and a supportive Christian community to promote spiritual growth, personal discovery, character formation, and an appreciation of the natural environment'. Here I will get to wear my chacos, use my nalgene, belay, pitch a tent, lead group development (complete with all the ridiculous games in my repertoire), mentor and build relationships with college students. Could anything be more perfect?
I say all of this because I couldn't have planned any of it more perfectly myself. I honestly feel like all of this has fallen into my lap.
What provision...
I'm still astounded by it.
Because although I left something I loved for something new, I still get to be a part of things I love in a different and new capacity. I still get to step fully into things that I am passionate about and weirdly skilled in (because who would have ever thought that I would get to bust out 'Little Sally Walker' again?).
Take heart.
You may feel like the degree you're getting, or the skills you have, or the passions you keep coming back to won't go anywhere in life... but I think you may be wrong. I think you may just be surprised when you realize how in the craziest ways God will present you with opportunities to step into those things even further. How your past experiences will not have been in vain. He can use the most random of things (like knowing how to belay, or deal with child abuse, or lead a debrief, or understanding the need to be flexible with each individual, or wash dishes with a Hobart, or clean a toilet well...) for His glory in new, exciting ways in your life!
Seriously.
It's crazy.
Crazy good.
Be willing to step into those things, even if it looks a little different than what you've known or what you've expected.
You may just get to wear those Chacos again to work....which means you'll definitely be glad that you still have seven pairs of them.
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