Belief Makes Things Real.

Today was perfect. Aside from the scratchy red mosquito welts that freckle my legs, today was most delightful. Apparently there's a mosquito issue not only outside, but inside the buildings here at camp. My spotty legs are proof.

Itchy discomfort aside, today was perfect.

It started with a pleasant run through the rolling hills of my backyard. I bounded with the deer and floated with the waves of grass. Eight miles and an uplifted spirit later, I showered and hopped in the car with my good friend Dena, headed on a surprisey lunch adventure.

Some great conversation with some great background music and some great scenery and an hour and some minutes later, we arrived in quaint little Fossil, Oregon.

RJ's steak, spirits, and sports did us well. We sat in the cafe and people watched as the elderly ambled out of their rocking chairs and into our presence for lunch. Fossil is small. Very small. Could almost be considered miniscule. But it provided for heaps of joy on this day.

After lunch, Dena and I headed to The Mercantile. This general store will hold a place in my heart for all time. The staff was most pleasant. The merchandise was perfectly placed in pyramids and everything was individually price gunned. They had everything, from cap guns, to quilts, to pearberry candles, of which Dena and I both souvinired ourselves with. The pearberry candles, not the quilts or cap guns.

From the mercantile we headed to the museum. Another delightful experience. I love looking at old things. I love touching them. Coveting them. Wishing I lived during those times. I'm excited to be old. I love old people. I just love old. Needless to say, the history of this very old town was water to my soul. I've been told I'm an old soul. Another compliment I cherish. I love that I've been described as child-like, as well as an old soul and those are the compliments I hold in my heart.

Back to Fossil.

After the museum we tried to hit up the hardware store but they were on an errand. A note in the door said back at 1. We were there at 1:25 and they weren't back. Love it.

We then headed to Condon, a slightly more developed version of Fossil. About the same population. We perused books and indulged in coffee and then headed back to camp.

Just spent the past few hours processing how much I take God's graces for granted. How I've let the enemy creep in and soil my spirit. I've had a terrible attitude these past few days at work. Terrible. I look back at the ways I've reacted to words and tasks and I feel dirty. I feel saddened. I wish that I could take back all the sassy reactions and disrespectful facial expressions. I've been described as moody many a time and I get defensive but I'm coming to realize that my attitude is so very contagious. My moodiness gets flicked around my work environment like dirty toilet water off the ends of our brushes. And I'm deeply remorseful for the ways I've treated people. My negligence in bringing my servant's heart to work has taken it's toll, and I'm here to repair the damage.

Sitting on the dock out at May's Reservoir in the perfect sunshine, enjoying the bullfrog belches and the whistling leaves, pitched me into a fit of feeling unworthy, unworthy of God's graces. The graces I take for granted everyday.

His grace is so very undeserved and yet it rains down upon us.

His compassions are new every morning.

My heart is full in this moment. My prayer is that it would sustain. That the enemy would flee the fullness. That there would be no room for sullenness, for contempt, for disdain, for bitterness.

Joy is not circumstantial.

I cling to it tightly as this summer approaches and I'm asked to work without end. As I'm stretched to Gumby status. As I'm attacked by demons of Fatigue, Inadequacy, and Technical Difficulty.

We're a week and a half away from the blurry moments that make up Washington Family Ranch Summer Camping and I'm strapping on my holy armor.

God protect me from the evil one. Protect us.