Advanced Compositon Assignment Brings Me Back "Home"

So in Adv. Comp, we had to write a paper about a word, and we had to describe what we thought this word meant, and such.. so I chose "Home".

So. I hope you enjoy. my perspective of "home".

My Home

Home, to me home isn’t a place you live, it isn’t where you sleep, eat, or play. Home is much more than that. Home is where a soul dwells. It is where I am able to be myself, where I am able to be free, no strings or questions attached.


Where does a soul dwell? A soul dwells in a safe, reliable place. Somewhere it can call its own. Where it is able to run free, live, without fear. The soul dwells where love is found. Where hope is a number one contender in the game of life, where happiness has no boundaries. Where the soul dwells, is somewhere filled with peace and excitement all at once. Where there is no care in the world except for the moment at hand. That is where a soul dwells.


Now where am I able to be myself? I am able to be myself in a place 131 miles away, in the little town of Reedsburg, Wisconsin. My home is a long gravel road leading into a different world. It is filled with laughter, love, and joy. My home is running through the athletic field screaming at the top of my lungs read for the best game of our lives. Around the ringing of laughter, faces filled with “war paint” from ashes. My home is filled with the dim hallways of night, while children dream of Christians fighting the tough battle from the Romans. Leaders filling the hearts of children with hope, while singing the sweetest lullabies.


Where I am able to be myself is sitting around a fold up table, drinking warm hot chocolate, conversing about the highs and lows of my day. Chatting about where God was today, and the cute children we worked with.


The place I call home is a place like no other. Where I am able to sleep around the ones I love in the old chapel, where I am able to eat sundae crunch bars while singing songs or playing ninja. My home is sitting in the Chapel, listening to the enchanting sounds of the care free world around me.


My home is the dark gray asphalt, where the light “ping” of a basketball hits the back board as a child reaches his dreams in a game of lightning. Where the sound of laughter and joy ring out daily. My home is the seventy-five degree weather, partly cloudy, with the sun peeking out of a cloud, the ray landing right on my face warming me to the core.


My home is not just a simple camp ground. My home is not a place of the past. My home is not a crutch, for when you need a “happy moment”. My home is holy ground. It is so much more than the land. It is so much more than the people. It is so much more than all of that. My home is a place to learn about myself, and the world around me. My home shows me that I am strong in all I do. This is what every home should do. Help whoever’s soul that dwells there, to find itself, and make it the person that they will be for the rest of their lives. That is what a home is.

Unexpected (and Perhaps Illegal) Bliss

Tonight was a good night.


First, I went to Starbucks. It was obviously delicious and satisfying, and I got a lot of awesome Catholic reading/research accomplished. I read from the Catechism (and narrowly avoided spilling pumpkin spice latte on it), from the Compendium, and from numerous blog sites and news articles. I watched countless videos of awkward but incredibly holy people, and my night was going wonderfully.

Then Glenna met me there. We were both super bummed, because our original intent was to go to the incredible service that is Candlelight mass at St. Paul's, but it was cancelled tonight because of Thanksgiving break. I wish I was smart enough to properly explain how breathtaking this mass is. First of all, St. Paul's is a pretty dark church. It's not pretty, but it's still awesome. It's all concrete. It's dark, contains no stained glass, and feels kind of like a bomb shelter (though there are plans to start building a new church in 2013!). But it's wonderful. It focuses your attention on the one truly beautiful thing that resides in an otherwise dingy building: the tabernacle. Anyway, during candlelight mass, the only thing lighting thie churh is a few dozen mini candles. I wish I could find a picture, because it's awesome. The choir sings above you, incense fills the air and you're completely focused on Jesus. It is perfect.

But of course, the one night we can go together, it gets cancelled.

So we sat at Starbucks and talked. She has extremely awesome things happening in her life right now, and I loved to listen to the energy and love God has given her. Glenna is kind of like me, in that she gets incredibly caught up in the glory of Christ all the time. So obvi, I love hearing her, and I feed off of her excitement.

We probably could have kept going for hours, but unfortunately, the male barista kicked us (and the only other customers, some Asians who we're fairly sure didn't speak English) out at 10. I don't remember who said it, but one of us suggested checking if St. Paul's was open.

We walked the short distance down the street to the front doors, and all the lights were off. Bummed, we started to walk away. Unwilling to leave without just checking to be sure, we agreed to try to open the doors. I was closer to the first door, and by a miracle, it opened. We stared at each other in complete awe, unsure if we were about to do something illegal. But hey, it was for Jesus, so we had to do it.

We blessed ourselves with holy water and entered the chapel. We were alone--just us and Jesus. Being alone, hearing nothing but the sound of the rain outside dripping down, we sat in wonder, pouring everything out to Christ and showing our deep, passionate love for him.

Then we prayed the rosary. We started out quiet, and gradually worked up to where our normal voices seemed to echo throughout the church. I led; Glenna led; we both nearly fell to the ground in appreciation for what the Lord was doing for us. When we finished, we silently prayed. Together but separate, we thanked God for everything, I (and perhaps Glenna, I couldn't tell) teared up, and listened for whatever he wanted to tell us.

Then I don't know what happened. It was one of those moments where I felt like God had complete control over me, and if someone had walked in, I probably would have gotten in trouble. I went up to the altar and stood before the tabernacle. I dropped to my knees and professed my servanthood to God. I want to please him. I'm not just becoming Catholic because I want to receive the Eucharist. I want to become the best Christian I can be, and tonight I felt that. I kneeled and prayed, and told God everything I needed to tell him. Then, in true Opus Dei fashion, I kissed the floor. Thank you, Father Sternberg, for planting this idea in my head. It was just so amazing because it wasn't just something I wanted to do. It was something I was compelled to do. I needed to do this, for God and for myself, to continue humility and show my gratitude for everything he has done for me.

Basically, the Blessed Family is perfect. God changed our plans, completely bummed us out, and then made things better than we could have imagined. We prayed to Mary, and she coerced Jesus into giving us this awesome experience. I couldn't have asked for anything better.


What I mean to say, friends, is that I am completely in love with Jesus Christ.

Also, I will be accepted into the Church five months from Tuesday. Pray for me, as I will be praying for you.

Love you.
Taylor

ON A SIDE NOTE: I don't even like the word bliss. I think it's cheesy and overused. But, alas, it was all I could come up with when writing this, so don't judge.

Things I Wish I Would Have Done in My 2.5 Weeks

I am not at all complaining about my experience as an LIT. It couldn't have been more perfect. I discovered myself and discovered a deep spirituality that I never expected. I also discovered the overwhelming beauty of a Church I had so ignorantly misinterpreted, and that's the greatest thing I could ever ask for. The thing about Camp Gray, though, is that no matter how much you gain from it--no matter how big of an impact it has had on you, no matter how much you love going there, no matter how beautiful you may think it is--it always has more to offer (I know, obvi, God made this place for people to grow closer to Him, and He always pulls through on that). There's just so much that I would do if I had more time at Camp--individually, with you all, with my campers. with everyone. If I am blessed with a position there this summer, I will do all of this. I'll check everything off, then do it all over again. I'll continue developing in my relationship with our Father and whomever I find myself strolling the paths with. If I don't get hired, I'll live--but I may need to come visit someone so that I can take full advantage of the beauty of Camp Gray.

Things I Wish I Would Have Done in My 2.5 Weeks

1. Spent more time in the grotto

I can't even begin to explain how much peace Mary has brought me. She is so perfect, and being loved enough by God to have a relationship with the mother of Jesus completely astounds and humbles me. Seriously, guys. She's the reason I'm becoming Catholic. Her rosary--praying through Mary--completely changed my life. The grotto is so simple, yet so powerful. The emphasis on the Mary statue just made me forget everything else and remember how awesome and perfect the Blessed Mother is. Despite the hoards of mosquitos that bombarded me every time I went to this forest-surrounded haven, it was perfect. If I had the chance, I would spend hours upon hours praying to Mary in that grotto. So wonderful.

2. Explored the labyrinth more

I've never actually been taught how to explore the labyrinth. I don't know if it's supposed to have a meaning other than forgetting your other thoughts and focusing on God? Who knows. After hearing Glenna's awesome story about her experience, I wish I would have gone through it more (if you don't know Glenna, you should get to know her. She's an awesome person). Danny and I did it on the day we made our decision(!), but that was together and we spoke throughout. No, I want my alone time with God. I want a chance to hear nothing but what He wants me to hear. I can do that through prayer, but this real interactive experience can be so powerful. If I had the chance, I would go through the labyrinth alone. Just to see how it feels.

3. Explored the trails more

I've been a camper for many years, so I'm pretty confident that I know my way around most of camp. I could take you to any well-known location with ease, but that's not what I want. I want to explore and find things I never even knew existed. I want to find the spot that God wants me to find, somewhere perfect for me to pray and develop and become the Christian He wants me to be. I want to explore the purple trail and the red trail and unmarked trails and just see where they lead me. This year, my spot was probably the most obvious place ever--the bench, right next to the BBC. It's slightly raised up, giving me the view of every angle, with the shade of the trees next to me. I witnessed a lot from that bench--from late-night stargazers to kitchen raids to yet another furniture-moving pathfinder prank. Plus, I read pages and pages of books that would completely change my outlook on faith and life and everything that goes along with them. Life is good.
4. Learned to not sleep
I broke the rules and stayed up way past our bedtime on more than one occasion. I always wanted to stay awake all night and get everything accomplished that I could imagine, but it didn't work out that way. Ever. More often than anything else, I would wish that I could just keep talking, keep learning, keep discovering new ways to praise Jesus. Unfortunately, we need to charge up, so that didn't happen. Learning how to not sleep would have solved so many problems for me.
5. Spent more time in the chapel
I spent so much time in St. Francis. Every day at least once, for sure. I honestly do not understand how a chapel so tiny can have such great effects on people. I mean seriously, it's where I decided to become Catholic. Such a holy place in such a tiny space. I love it, and I wish I had all the time in the world to just sit there, reflect, and pray.

Things I May Have Sacrificed to Make Those Things Come True
1. Time bonding with my LITs
2. Seriously awesome one-on-ones (or two-on-ones, or two-on-twos)
3. Hot chocolate with a button that stuck every time
4. Miranda smacking the fly in the middle of our devotion
5. One of my campers telling her friend not to worry, that she got through her homesickness when she "pictured God lying next to me, giving me a big hug and telling me how much he wants me to have fun with my friends and my counselors." Melted my heart.
6. Realizing that I'm not as good at tetherball as I was when I was a trailblazer (and I'm not as grossly competitive, either)
7. The faces of my girls during Mass. Praising Jesus and loving it. So beautiful.
8. Dan Harper's other half
9. The hallways of Vinnie's at night. Lit up only by the light of a stray headlamp or two, filled with soothing songs for our Father
10. The end of Sundae Crunch bars at Camp Gray. Such a sad day.
11. My very first lion hug
12. That lion hug turning into an obsession, making me embarrass myself constantly, but love it nonetheless
13. Almost sleeping in our tents three nights in a row, until we finally gave up and just moved into the Joe
14. Walking into the chapel the first day Father Greg got to Camp, and being alone in the chapel with him. Realizing what a wonderful impact he would have on campers, and being overwhelmed with joy.
15. The moment I realized that God helped Michelle help me, and helped me help Michelle
16. Learning how to make a rosary. Not only could I pray it, but now I could create a tool to bring myself and others closer to Him
17. Danny walking into a conversation about my struggles, and subsequently discovering he had the exact same ones. Slowly realizing that he is in the exact same point in his faith life as I.
18. Countless other somethings beautiful that are not currently popping into my mind.

Basically, Camp Gray is a holy place. God filled me with this hunger for His glory, and this place helped me temporarily fill it. God is love, God is home. Camp is filled with the Holy Spirit; therefore, it is filled with love, and it is home. And if this picture didn't fill you with love and joy, I don't know what will.

(Courtesy of Lauren, and the Camp Gray Facebook page)

Love you all. Praying for you, always.

Taylor