We are about twenty-one days into being back at school, and actually having a normal, somewhat free life. No traveling the world, no adventurous foods.
We are no longer standing on benches at breakfast lunch and dinner, stomping away to morning songs, tribal songs, the announcements song or our cabin songs. We aren't singing to the princess of Merri-Mac, or the Queen any longer. There are no evening actives besides homework, no nightly devotions or morning chapel, and I am no longer reading to any of my girls as soon as taps goes off. There is no reveille to wake us up in the morning, there is only the shock at the fact that I didn't set my alarm and I probably missed class (which didn't happen yet).
We are no longer waking up in our beds, brushing our teeth with bottles of water, ordering breakfast to someone who doesn't speak our language. As I mentioned before, we are no longer trying adventurous foods, and we aren't worshiping in the bus on the way to the Malagasy camp. There is no street evangelism here... unless you want to end up in a really awkward or terrible situation. I am no longer seeing people come to christ everyday, nor am I spending more than an hour in worship with my ministry team, or listening to Cornell everyday.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still growing. I have my own worship times here at the apartment now, getting into the word, practicing my guitar and worshiping are always on my "to-do" list... but it's nothing like camp, and it's nothing like Madagascar.
To be honest... I just can't put this summer into words.
It was magical and exhilarating.
I got to fall in love - give or take - about sixty times this summer. I got to watch God work in my life, in my relationships with people. He even taught me a few things about what it means to truly love, and care for someone. He taught me about community and leadership, and what it meant to stand up for myself or for my girls. He taught me about time... how I don't have enough of it because at camp there was no time for things that people back home were enjoying on a daily basis, such as television. There was barely any time to make the videos everyone was demanding. There was no time to read, write, sleep, do your own laundry, have your free time, hang out with your girls, get into your own devotional, study your bible, and at the same time, take care of ALL twenty-two of their needs. There wasn't enough time.
So to be able to put this summer into words...
Is physically impossible.
You'll see stories that I'll post from creative writing class where I talk about Madagascar or Camp, you'll probably hear me burst out into the announcements song - as my teammates have noticed - if you say something as simple as "goodness gracious!" and I will continue with "great balls of fire, Hi! My name is Peter and I have come to read your meter. Dan Stan the man. Can you say Adobe? Control the pet population, have your pet spade or neutered..." you get the idea.
The point is, you'll hear about it, you'll see it through videos and photos... and I know that seeing that stuff and hearing small stories will never be enough compared to maybe getting to read about it, but it's the best I can do besides saying "go on a missions trip yourself" or "go be a camp counselor for a summer..."
When it's all said and done. I am speechless by this summer because it was utterly indescribable.
However, on the way back from Madagascar, the last three hours of the plane ride, I spent swaying back and forth, trying not to think about the fact that we were moving. Eventually I got up, and threw up in the sink. To this day, we still don't know what was wrong with me, but as soon as the plane landed they let me into the bathroom, and on the drive home I sat in the front seat with my head down and on a pillow.
As many people know when we were on our way back from Mananjary, I got the message that Grandpa might not make it through the day. My team had prayed at that point, and I knew Grandpa was going to pass, I just wanted him to stay alive long enough to say goodbye. The last time I had got to see him in person was in April. However, on the day of the lemur park and shopping, I came back to the text message that Grandpa had passed, and I didn't get to say goodbye.
He knew that I was in Madagascar, and he knew what I was doing here. He also told my Dad that if I had to miss him, he would rather me miss him while serving the Lord. I made him proud.
That side story was because I spent the day that we got back from Madagascar, sick on the couch. I wasn't supposed to sleep so that my body could get used to the time change, but I wasn't feeling well. So I fell asleep at four in the afternoon and woke up at four in the morning, the morning of the funeral.
I knew that going from camp to Madagascar was going to be a challenge, but I had no clue that going from Madagascar and the transition back to school would be so challenging as well. We braved the funeral, and many people showed up. He was always scared that people wouldn't come to his funeral, but the room was packed, and Uncle Andy did a great job with the eulogy. What really got me was that Uncle Andy said he would always steal a soda from Gramps fridge, and then he held up one of Grandpa's soda's and said, "this is the last one I'll be able to steal from you pops..."
Right then a part of me longed for those Christmas Eve's at Grandma and Grandpa's old house, you know the blue one with the gravel driveway and Pookie in the backyard. I longed for the Easter egg hunts, and to go chive hunting, and those days where Grandma punished us by making us cut the grass with scissors, which I didn't really mind. I longed for the morning glories and the feel of that weird carpet in their living room, and the smell of Grandma and Grandpa's room in the back on the far right. Along with the bathroom that was themed like a lighthouse, and those cow towels that Grandma always had. How about that big tub that Grandpa always kept his used soda cans in? I missed that, dearly.
The funeral was tough, especially still battling occasional dizziness along with extreme sadness, and telling myself that I was not allowed to regret going to camp, or Madagascar, or wishing that I had come to visit him more often. It was mentally and physically tough.
Then to top it off, I didn't want to have to deal with moving in, and having Fajita fest the next day, so after getting myself a new phone, we packed up the car at Aunt Vicki's and then at ten o'clock at night, we moved me into my new apartment.
That was a struggle. The funeral, feeling sick, sadness with feelings of regret, and being jet lagged.
ROUGH but it needed to be done, and I told myself, "you'll get a break."
Boy was I wrong because just like that Fajita Fest came, and then so did classes, and then so did homework and gymnastics practice, and learning new freshman's names...
To sum up the last three weeks...
Today is the first day I have not been sore since the 10th of September, my body has been physically exhausted to the point where I walk to class and my legs threaten to give out on me. My professor asked if I was okay on Wednesday... No I am tired...
I am reading three books right now. All for class, and soon we will start Frankenstein... my fourth novel at one time. Literature is taking up all my reading life. Along with other homework, we are writing everyday for Creative Writing. We have given ourselves a prompt for each day of the week, so on that day we write from that prompt, and on Sunday we take pieces from each of our free writes, and compose our piece. It's a lot. On top of that, each week we are handed two sheets, each having three or four prompts. He hopes that we try all of them out, but we are required to turn in one piece a week, along with a reflection of the reading.
So basically my homework is reading and writing... and that is all I do. Although, in my Graphic Communications class, we did start learning about drafting fliers and billboards and stuff like that, so I did get to draw as my homework this morning. That was great.
So if you ask me how this semester is going I have a couple things to say.
1.) It is COMPLETELY kicking my butt. I'm always doing homework... and I'm never getting enough sleep.
2.) I miss camp.
3.) I miss Madagascar.
4.) Despite the homework, and my cravings for summer to return, I know I am supposed to be right here... and I know that because this whole stressfulness, tiredness, and craziness could be terrible, but so far it has been a blast.
AKA: This year is going really well despite the homework.
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