and we're back

I'm so sorry that, yet again, this is a picture-less post. I thought about waiting until I would be able to attach a photo, but then I thought you might all be scared that I had died or something. Well praise be to God for getting that Silver Eagle Bus all the way to Missouri and back. It really doesn't make sense for that machine to have done what it did, so praise Jesus.

The gist of my weekend was as follows: wake up before the sun does, go down to my secret spot that overlooks the lake, spend a few hours with Jesus, breakfast, meeting, and do whatever I want with the rest of the day. It was one of the most restful weeks I've ever experienced (and that rest was much needed). Oh man, that was good rest in the Lord.

I'll share one anecdote to leave you with until my post that actually has pictures.

One afternoon we were given the opportunity to go swimming. For those of you who haven't been to a Christian camp in a few years, swimming pools are no longer what they once were. Now-a-days, simply swimming is not an option. You can however, play water basketball and volleyball, jump off a series of diving boards, jump from a platform to a trampoline into the water, blob, and swing from a trapeze.

I was unfortunately unable to take advantage of each of these options (including the one I most wanted to try: the trampoline), but I did get to hit up a few. I decided to start out with a swing down the trapeze, before I had even entered the water.

I climbed to the top of the of the tower, listened to the nice young man tell me all I needed to know about swinging down and letting go - most of which I dismissed with a confident, "I've done this before." I was holding the handle and recounting all of the various tecniques required to successfully complete the swing. I was told to lead with my toes, so I pushed off, put my toes out in front (pointed, of course, as any former gymnast would), and as I began to swing downward towards the water, I my flight was rudely interrupted by my very own butt. That's right, the platform hit my butt far harder than my father ever did. I still managed to swing all the way and do a back flip off, but the flip was really only to save face for the butt smack.

Over a week later (this morning) I was actually able to look at my wounded butt in the mirror, and it's a pretty gnarly bruise my friends. I'm not sure if that is going to be one of the pictures in the next post, but stay tuned... you never know.