The Story of My Life: MFSC Final Edition

Hit the rewind button. We need to go back to early Thursday to recap a slew of events and moments that held their place in such high honor. The first being the progress towards trying to be the cleanest room. Every time we stepped up our game, it seemed like another boys room was one step ahead. Tim B decided that we weren't holding anything back this time. That morning before breakfast, we got to work. We packed all of our stuff as if we were leaving and neatly organized the luggage in our closet. We made all the beds with hotel blanket folds and they were so neat they looked as if no one had slept in them all week. We emptied the trash, did some dusting, and picked up every spec of dirt off the floor we could find. We made the bathroom spotless and the cherry on top was when Tim B gave French folds to the toilet paper roll to look like it had been handled by a five star hotel. The room was pristine. 

Post breakfast, and through the morning events, anticipation was building. The afternoon was scheduled for a massive competition. The mighty JHFC Olympics. The events were pre-planned by a select group of serving ones. Each varied in points which would determine the winners of the Olympics. And like dodgeball on day one, it was boys vs girls. We were put into teams by our groups for the week and lined up like sheep in a narrow corral. Relay races. We were doing relay races. The first 40 minutes or so consisted of crab walks, wheelbarrow races, dizzy bat runs, etc. Every time a group thought they finished first, they let out an eruptive cheer. I hated relay races, but I was still giving it my all so as to not let the girls teams beat us. 

The main event wasn't the last. It was revered. It was talked about all week. And it was one the boys could not afford to lose. The all mighty Tug-of-War. Laid out across the field was an extremely long, approximately 2" thick rope. There was no messing around here. The first round was jr high boys vs jr high girls. I found a spot on the back of the rope, closer to the midway point. We had a bigger kid as the anchor and he tied the end of the rope around his waist. Now here's the thing that young children forget. Before boys and girls hit puberty, they are nearly even when it comes to strength and physicality. So when the moderator who was doing his best to keep the marker centered, finally dropped the rope and signaled the start, I was surprised at how much of a pull was coming from the other side. My feet started dragging. I jammed my heels into the dirt and pulled until I was red in the face. I saw the marker moving the wrong direction and broke my concentration. Suddenly there was a brief surge on our side. But with my sweaty grip and exhausted state, I slipped off the rope and hit the dirt. I had to roll out of the way of trampling feet. I then watched in horror as the rope marker went further the wrong way and crossed the line of no return. Screams of joy broke out on the other side. Disbelief and stunned looks fell on our side. The battle may have been lost, but the war wasn't over.

One round of Tug-of-War was not enough. Best two out of three was the call. The boys huddled up and came up with a new strategy. We shuffled bodies and made sure no one would be in a compromising spot. The rope was raised, the whistle blew and we pulled like our lives depended on it. This time though, it wasn't brute strength. One of our high school serving ones was on the side shouting, "1-2-3 PULL!" In our huddle we were taught to give a surge-tug every time we heard the word PULL. That surge-tug was what we needed as we swiftly hauled that rope marker across our victory line. Now it was our turn to celebrate. Loud cheers, high-fives, and maybe an arm flex or two could be seen by the spectators. 

The final round waited for no one. We were back on the rope and both sides were determined to keep that marker from crossing the other side. The whistle once again blew, but when it did, chaos filled the air. There were now high school and college serving ones from both sides shouting "1-2-3 PULL!" That rope marker was barely moving. The shouts became screams. Sweat was running down faces and into eyes. Arms and legs were getting wobbly. But no one gave an inch. We were all going to drop from exhaustion as a stalemate ensued. My fingers burned and my muscles ached. Just as I thought I was about to drop again, I felt it. The rope marker was coming our way. We had got the advantage we needed. The pull on our side didn't stop and the marker broke our victory line. The end whistle blew and there was roar from the male serving ones that drowned out our cheers. We lost the first battle, but we won the war. The Tug-of-War.

There were more events included in the Olympics, but I only recall what happened in one last event. The Water Balloon Toss. Fairly simple concept if you're not familiar. You picked a partner and lined up across from a center line at an arm's reach away. Everyone on one side of the line held a water balloon. Then, at every whistle, the person holding the water balloon would toss it across to their partner. If the water balloon broke at any point, you were out. After each toss, everyone had to take one step back. There were line judges to make sure the everyone was at an even distance. You had to toss from that point, but once the balloon was in the air, your partner could move to wherever it was possibly going to land. The top three teams to get the farthest earned points for their respective group overall. I wanted to win this so badly as I had tossed many water balloons in my day from all of my Kid's Club days. This was just a dream, however, as I can't even tell you who my partner was as we got eliminated after the first few tosses. I think my mind blocked part of that memory due to disappointment. I do remember that at least two boy pairs made it the farthest two distances. 

Ultimately, I believe the boys wound up taking home the Olympic crown that year, but since I can't recall the other events involved, I can't say that with full confidence. What I can write with full confidence is an epic memory that I will never forget. It occurred near the end of dinner that evening. The room inspectors had given Mike S their final comments and scores. Everyone became silent waiting for the results. Mike began with the worst rooms first. Our number was not called, but we knew it wasn't going to be. Then he announced the top three rooms. The third place room was not ours and I was getting nervous and excited at the same time. He then announced a room that was not ours and started listing the comments. Their room was near spotless and I thought for sure they had won. But then, the strangest comment I ever heard became music to my ears. Mike announced that the inspectors had found a black piece of fuzz on the floor. The whole cafeteria went "OOOOOO". He then announced that they had placed second. He followed that up with, "that means room 17 had the best room for the day!" Tim B pumped his fists in the air in celebration. Me and my other roommates cheered at our tables knowing that our hard work had paid off. We went from the worst room on day one to the best room on the final day. Thank you rogue black piece of fuzz.

The final day brought two more unique events in what were known as the Talent Show and the Bible Bowl. The talent show was the final event to earn points towards the Bible Bowl. If your group chose to participate, you had to come up with something creative that incorporated anything associated with the camp. Most groups would perform a skit based on a bible passage. Some would perform an original song they created over the weekend. It was a time filled with laughter and wholesome goodness which gave a small reprieve from competition. 

Then it was time for the Bible Bowl. We all assembled in the gym with the boys in chairs on one side and the girls in chairs on the other. The serving ones had submitted questions over the course of the week based on the bible stories, verses, and general trivia about things that happened at the camp. The rules were as follows. A question would be read. To answer, you had to stand up. First person to stand up would get to answer. If the person who stood popped up before the question was fully read, the serving one would stop reading and the person would have to answer. If the person answering got the question wrong, the other team would get a chance to steal. No one was allowed to answer two questions in a row if they got the first one correct. The last two minutes would be a lighting round where there was no limit to how many times you could answer and there were no steals. You were either wrong or right and then the next question would be asked.

The competition was fierce. Loud cheers would come from each side for every right answer. Louder cheers for a successful recite of a memory verse. Arguments would also break out over rules or distractions, but the serving ones mostly kept the peace. The score was heavily close until the lighting round. It was there the boys took the lead and pulled away for good. I didn't contribute much, but I believe I had answered a question or two correctly during the competition, but don't ask me what they were. It was a thrilling end to what was an incredible week.

So that's it. We've finally come to the end of my first summer camp experience. What an amazing one it was. I met many great people, made some friends, had some life changing experiences, and found out what faith truly is. This camp was a staple in who I turned out to be and would be a factor for many years to come. I would eventually attend many more of these and have many more stories to tell, but those are for another time. I hope you enjoyed this section of my life, but buckle up because 2004 brought more life altering moments worthy of telling time and time again. See you in the next chapter.

The Story of My Life: MFSC 3: An Awakening

Slightly sleep deprived from the chaotic night before, I faced yet another full day of excitement. So much had happened already and much more was still to come. Before breakfast, we leveled up our room again. This time, we made it look as if no one was staying there at all. All the luggage and clothes were put away and out of sight. The bathroom was spotless. We were determined to get the best room recognition that day. 

Breakfast, small groups, and the morning meeting all came and went. I was a little more energized from the meeting and wasn't entirely sure why. Lunch followed and that afternoon's activities were announced. The camp was buzzing in anticipation of what they could be as some camp veterans had a good idea. When the activities coordinator announced it was Capture the Flag, the whole dining hall exploded. I had never played before because I had never been around a large enough group to pull it off. As we were finishing up lunch, I was being told tales of how crazy CTF gets. My anticipation was building. 

After lunch, we all went to change into comfortable clothing and then assembled at the cafeteria porch for instructions. When we were listing to the rules, it blew my mind about how much of the camp we were going to use as our playing field. Think of a lot of football fields that had terrains of flat, woods, hills, a creek, and standard trails. We were split up into teams and sent off to our sides. We chose our flag location and jail location and then took our positions. The siren sounded and the game was afoot. My initial strategy was to stay back and guard the flag until I felt comfortable enough to go for the other team's flag. Which was maybe 30 minutes. 

I ventured off into the main part of no man's land where both sides could go without being captured. I saw all the easy points were covered. I had heard and seen the college and working serving ones disappear into the woods. I wasn't willing to do that fearing I would get lost. But after long stretches of not finding an opening, I decided to go into the woods. I got about as far as I could go while still seeing the edge. Then, a sudden movement caught my eye. I saw a figure duck behind a tree. The person peered their head out to survey the situation. It was Joe S. Joe was Mike S's young brother. I would come to know Joe very well over the years and would also come to know that the man was a jr high camp staple. I, being the naïve kid I was, I started shouting "I see you Joe! You can't hide from me! I see you!" In doing so, I was effectively giving away my position to the rest of the enemy. Joe didn't say a word and slipped away deeper into the forest.

I didn't want to chase, but I decided to press my luck. I pressed into enemy territory. I spotted no one else in the woods. I was so deep, there was no turning back. Eventually, I saw the enemy jail. They had some of our people under guard. I couldn't quite see the flag so I had a decision to make. I either snoop around in enemy territory a bit more and risk getting captured, or I become an early hero and free the prisoners. I decided the prisoners were my better option. I waited for my moment and then I charged in. I thought I had a clear shot, but some of the prisoners started shouting in excitement. That alerted a guard I had not accounted for. Just before I could make the jailbreak tag, the quick-footed guard tagged me. Go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.

Here's where I wish I could tell you an epic tale of how we made a daring escape. But the reality was I got caught early in the game and that meant I rotted in jail for quite a while. I found out why getting caught was a bad idea. I milled around in the jail. Bugged my fellow prisoners, picked blades of grass and tossed them in the wind. Some of my teammates crept past us through the woods to go after the flag. My boredom was going to be the death of me. But then, there on the grassy horizon, was hope. A teammate came flying out of the woods and dodged the bored, but now alert, guards with ease. Then, they made the tag on the outstretched arm of another prisoner and we had won a jailbreak. We all celebrated as we got a free pass back to our territory through enemy lines. 

Once I had made it back, I didn't see many of our older and athletic players in sight. I questioned other teammates who may have had some intel. All I could garner was that they had made a late push for the flag. A late push? Had we really been battling for a couple hours? That jail stint must've confounded my concept of time. Since I had no idea where the flag was and didn't feel like another round in the slammer, I patrolled No-Man's land like a lion protecting her cubs. Nobody was going to get through our land the easy way.

I stared down my opponents. Sweat dripping off my brow. Complete exhaustion. But I wasn't going to reveal that. They taunted me. I dared them to cross. I wanted to tag them all and be known around camp as The Warden. But then, through gaps in the branches, across the grassy fields. The dreaded siren sounded. Game over. Did we win? Oh please say we won. I quickly made my way to the rally point. I watched as weak and weary bodies stumbled out of the woods. The came like zombie hordes yet with some sign of life. As soon as I could, I began questioning the bold. Apparently we managed to get their flag and in an attempt to allude them, it was passed to a teammate who had made it onto a building roof. That person then ran across the roof until they ran out of shingles. A mad dash was made through the woods and one of our players holding the flag was captured, so it fell short of the border. The battle was a draw. A stinking draw. So many good people were captured that day and their sacrifice was for nothing. But in reality, that game was such a blast, that we talked about it the rest of camp. 

The rest of the day was slow going with small groups, dinner, and the standard rest time. Then approached that night's meeting. I thought it was going to be like all the rest. Full of good singing, a good message, another satisfying way to end a fun-filled day. But something unusual was going to happen. Kids began to call out songs and one after another, we flowed with the music. Then someone called the song Nevermore This World Shall Bind Me. It was a popular song throughout the camp and had been sung multiple times during the week. But in that moment, it hit me different. I suddenly had a mini reflection on the week. The words that were spoken in the meetings, the verses we had covered from the bible, and the words of the very songs we were singing throughout the week. I felt like a spark was trying to ignite something in me. As we were singing this song, Mike S was leading and all the kids were really into it. Then we repeated the first verse. "Nevermore this world shall bind me. I won't let it tie me up, nor let it way me down. Although Pharaoh's force surrounds me, I am free from fear and doubt." That last line. "I am free from fear and doubt." For the past six years of my life, I had let fear and doubt rule it. But that night, for the first time in a long time, I was free from it. Then I felt something tell me, "go up to the front and join Mike." It wasn't my dad, nor my friend beside me. I let the feeling lead. I left my chair and went straight up on the little stage. Then the chorus kicked in. "Here I am, standing on Mount Zion high, far above the storms. Where I hear the heavenly Father's cry. Hear Him this is my Beloved. My Beloved for you He died." My spirit was so alive and I couldn't explain it. Something I really had never felt like this before. And while all that was going on, two more boys joined us on stage. There were four of us now in front of everyone else, but all of us enjoying that very moment. A taste of what it means to be free from fear and doubt.

The song concluded and we all returned to our seats. A message was then shared, which I can't really recall what it was about because I was enamored by that living moment I had experienced. I had felt a spark. But what I didn't know yet, was how real those sparks and that experience were going to become.

After that night, I began to see things through a slightly different light. I appreciated the serving ones more. Realizing they were giving up time in their summer to spend it with a bunch of loony toon jr. high kids. The small groups became a little more meaningful and I paid more attention to what the bible verses were saying. The meeting sessions were more real to me. Yet, something was still missing, and I knew not what.

Thursday arrived and excitement filled the air. The day was going to be filled with many incredible events all leading up to the grand finale on Friday. But more on that in the next chapter. I want to focus on a moment that was about to change my life. The day's activities fired me up and the meeting that evening was so uplifting. People were the most joyous I had seen them all week. The singing was so spirit filled that no one wanted it to end. As the meeting concluded, we were about to participate in an event that was a junior high camp staple. The bonfire, also affectionately known as the "bond" fire. No summer camp would be complete without one. 

We all went to grab hoodies and flashlights. Then in one massive group, we made the 10 minute hike through the woods, on a trail, that lead to a clearing on a hill where the bonfire was going to take place. As we walked through the night air, I paid attention to all the sounds that carried through it. The Pennsylvania woods really are something special. Eventually, we reached the clearing and I was in awe of what I saw. In the center was a roaring bonfire and in the distance on a higher hill, was a city all lit up under the night sky. The stars were out providing a twinkling blanket of wonder. It was magical.

Everyone found a place around the flames and shortly after someone broke out a guitar. Music filled the air as melodious voices sang out with gusto. Then came the best part of all. S'mores. An American summer classic. People were signing, marshmallows were toasting, and life was good. Then at one point, I found a seat on the grass. I stared deeply off into the night sky and began to reflect on what I had experienced that entire week. The friends I had made. The love from the serving ones that I didn't expect from people I barely new. The indescribable sensation I had felt during the signing time of the Wednesday night meeting. All of it began to sink into my being, down through the depths of my soul. Then, it felt like all the world had faded around me. But I was not alone. I felt an overwhelming peace I had never felt before. So much so that my anxiety couldn't touch me. I knew it was a presence greater than me, but one that knew me. 

All my life I had heard about the Lord. I had known of Him, but never really made him my own. I was riding my parents' coattails. Until this week. I began to get a taste of what it meant to know the Lord. To take that leap of faith on my own. To experience Him for myself. As this realization was befalling me, someone prayed. Then another person. Then there was a pause. I felt that feeling again. This time I heard something. "Now it's your turn." I didn't hesitate. I let out all that was welling up inside of me with a thankful and grateful heart. My spirit was so alive and I knew in that moment, I could no longer deny what I suspected to be true for a long time. The Lord was real and He had chosen me. 

When I finished that prayer, a loud chorus of amens came from everyone in the camp. The fire still roared, the stars still twinkled, and I knew the love of the Lord. That moment on that grassy hill in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania, was my moment where faith became real. It was my beginning of a lifelong journey. And the first, of many, many experiences that I would have walking the Christian walk. And to this very day, I can pinpoint who I am and who I have become to that very moment. This was my beginning.

The Story of My Life: MFSC 2, The Scream Heard Around Camp

Day 2 came with a early and rude awakening after a rough first night of sleep. I get we were here to participate at camp and follow the program, but getting up before 8am in the summer was painful. The only light through the gloom was that I had a fully cooked breakfast waiting for me in the cafeteria...but Tim B decided to put the brakes on that locomotive. Having had the worst room the day before, he was making sure history wouldn't repeat itself. 

The process began with making the beds to look like the day we first walked in. Then all the clothes lying around were put in an orderly manner. Any trash was put in the waste basket. All towels were hung, all water was cleaned up, and everything was in proper order. We felt pretty good about our chances as we finally headed to breakfast. We wouldn't know the end results until around dinner time.

After breakfast came a Take Five. These actually happened directly after every meal. They were up to fifteen minutes long, but were meant for everyone to find a secluded spot all to themselves and be quiet for at least 5 minutes. There were various intentions for this time, but the most simple was to be able to spend 5 minutes of calm and quiet to yourself in a jam-packed day. I'll admit that my first go around with the take fives was not anything as they were intended to be, but later I would find great value in them.

I mentioned group time previously, but I didn't mention anything about my group. It consisted of a group leader, a couple of assistant group leaders, and the rest were jr high kids, myself included. My Dad was assigned to my group as the main leader. The co-group leaders were Mark M and Isaac M (no relation). There were three other kids in my group who were Sam K, Vincent K, and another kid whose name escapes me. Having my Dad as the group leader eased my ever present anxiety during the week. But I want to talk a bit about Isaac M. This was the first time I had met him as he was from Michigan. He was pretty good friends with both Tim C and Mark M. Once I met him, I instantly thought he was one of the cool kids. He had the looks, personality, and a big smile that made him a very likeable dude. What fascinated me the most was that someone like him was willing to give up a week of his summer to serve jr. high kids. All of those things made me appreciate someone like him even more.

After a really good morning session, the afternoon activity had us back in the gym. It was set up for a large game of Knockout and two courts for volleyball. I quickly gravitated towards the ever growing knockout line. I wasn't long before we had intense games going. There were so many kids who wanted to play that we had to form two lines on both hoops. Once again it was mixed with jr high, high school, college, and even some post-college adults. 

There was so much chaos that you had to have the utmost concentration to win a game. And that was something I wanted more than anything. To be able to say I was the last one standing vs my peers and those greater than I. I took shot after shot. I ran all over that court like a crazed maniac. Game after game I fought for that W. But it was repeat after repeat. A missed shot followed by a swish. The clang of my desperation throws missing over and over. I became so drenched is sweat I could've splashed in a small puddle.

I was getting tired, but in the next game I made the top 5. I was oh so close to sweet victory that I could taste it. The desire and drive in me overcame my fatigue. I stepped in line for one more shot. The first shots were taken and we were off. Each time I got the ball in my hands, I made every shot count. Aggression was the key to my success. If the person in front of me missed their shot, they had to react quick because I was in the zone. My confidence grew when an older kid missed his shot and I sunk mine. Before I knew it, I found myself in the final 3. It was me, another jr high kid, and a college serving one by the name of Johnny H. We all slowed down to catch our breath. The other kid was up first. He missed his shot. I quickly fired mine, but I too missed. I managed to retrieve my rebound and lay it up off the glass before the other kid's ball hit the rim. I hustled back in line. It was now David vs Goliath. Johnny H took his shot and he made it. Then I made mine before he got back to the line to take another. Back and forth we went. Neither being able to knock out the other. Then a loud CLANG was heard as Johnny H missed was a seemingly easy shot. I didn't hesitate and heaved a desperation free-throw. I ran forward to grab the re-bound, but there was none. My ball hit the square and fell through the net. KNOCK OUT! I celebrated in pure ecstasy. Not only had I finally won, but I beat someone much older and better than me to do so. After that, nothing was going to ruin my day.

I want to pause this memory for a moment and reflect on a valuable life lesson here. It wasn't until years later, when I found myself at this very camp and in this very situation, but with the roles reversed, where I was now the older college kid taking on the last remaining jr high kid in the knockout line, that it hit me like a ton of bricks. Johnny H let me win that game. There were shots he took that he should've easily made, but it was clear to me now that he purposely missed them. Was I upset when I had this realization? Nope. Did it take away from that valuable moment in my life? Not in the slightest. I still had to earn my way into that top 2. To face the best of the best. And I still had to make the winning shot. But the lesson there wasn't about winning or losing and doing so to the best of one's ability. It was a matter of taking care of someone else. Someone like me who hardly played organized sports. Who very rarely got the taste of victory in front of a crowd. And anxiety-riddled jr high kid who felt like he achieved the impossible. And for a long time, Johnny H's act of kindness carried on in me for years to come. So when that young kid in front of me was playing his heart out to beat "the big kid", it became my turn to miss my shot. And when that kid made the winning basket, he felt the pure joy I had all those years ago. I small, humbling act of kindness can do wonders in someone's life. And I experienced both sides of that coin.

Un-pause. Knockout would not be the only exciting activity that day. The evening one was one I was looking forward to since I saw the schedule. A night swim. The boys were doing this one solo while the girls would get their turn the next night. Never before in my life had I been able to swim in a large pool well after the sun went down. We were out in the middle of nowhere where we could be as rambunctious and loud as we wanted. Just walking to the pool's edge and I was in awe. Heated, lit so you could see what you were doing, a volleyball net across the shallow end and a basketball hoop on the side. I was in kid heaven.

What made the experience special was not simply the fact that it was a night swim. It was the fact that all the boys were able to have an incredible bonding moment. While the first 15 minutes or so were spent getting used to the water and the feel of the space, the rest of the night was organized chaos. We organized volleyball teams that were competitive to a fault, but allowed younger kids to have their moments to shine. When someone got a nasty spike,  they roared like a gorilla defending it's territory which was followed by playful shoves, high-fives, and a ton of splashing. When we tired of that, we had a slam-dunk contest, where we got louder and louder with each epic dunk. Once the dunk king was crowned, we finished the night off with the human cannon. The college-aged serving ones would form a small circle in four feet of water. Then one by one, the jr. high would swim to the inner circle and place their feet on the serving ones' hands. Then the kid would get into cannonball form and the serving ones would bob up and down while counting down from three. After they got to one, the kid was launched as far as they could be thrown into the deep end. Yes I did take that ride and let's just say I made a splash.

About the time the clock struck 10PM, it was time to return to our building to wind down and soon drift off to sleep. Thinking that would happen so smoothly was wishful thinking at best. After a full day of fun and being able to stay up later than normal, the last thing a kid wants to do is go to bed. But the serving ones did a good job and eventually got everyone in their rooms for the night...

---knock knock knock. I thought I was dreaming, but having realized I was being awoken at 1AM to the sound of actual door knocks, I didn't dare leave my bed. Tim B had woken up and went to see who was at the door. It turned out to be Jeff B, one of the main camp coordinators for the week. I faked being asleep while he talked to Tim. Apparently, someone was roaming outside of the building tapping on the first floor windows with lights on trying to scare the girls. Jeff asked Tim to go help him search for the culprit. They both grabbed flashlights and disappeared down the hall. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. Just as I was drifting off, I heard an ear-splitting scream. Then another. Then a lot of screams coming from downstairs. Now wide awake, I jumped out of bed, ran out of the room, and made my way to the railing. There in the middle of the main floor was most of the girls all in one big cluster. Many of the other boys who had woken up joined me on the railing. No one had any idea what was going on. Jeff B came back in and calmed everyone down then asked everyone to return to their rooms and go back to bed. That's it? I thought. No explanation? Since my parents were staying in the motel section, I wanted to make sure they were okay. I had a small cut on my foot that was fine, but it did look like it could use some attention. So I asked Jeff to take me over to the motel. Surprisingly he did. We woke my dad up and he got me a band-aid from their supply. Seeing that they were all good and my toe was bandaged, I told Jeff we could go back. We walked back through the dark to the sounds of the night critters and I returned to a quiet building with everyone back in their rooms. I crawled into bed and finally fell back asleep.

The next morning during breakfast, I approached Jeff B and asked him what last night was about. He said they weren't sure who, but a girl complained about tapping on her window and thought she saw something wandering outside. Word was brought to Jeff and he recruited Tim B to go check it out. Word had spread amongst the girls who were awake that there was a prowler on the loose. Some were noticing flashlights and went to the windows to see if they could see who it was. In reality, it was Jeff and Tim searching for the mysterious tapper. But some of the girls did not know that and Jeff didn't want to scare them so in the moment, he held the flashlight up to his face so they could see it was him when they looked out the windows. Unfortunately, the light cast shadows over his face, making him look terrifying. Some girls thought he was the tapper and ran out of their room screaming causing others to follow suit. Jeff did end up chuckling about it even though it was a long night for him. There were other groups not associated with us utilizing other parts of the camp for the week. Jeff had his suspicions that it was someone from one of those groups trying to pull a prank, but the culprit was never caught so that is one mystery that won't be solved.

With that I conclude part two of this JHC recap. I have one more part to tell as it contains a crucial change in my life as well as other memories that mattered. Until next time.

The Story of My Life: My First Summer Camp Part 1

Summer camp was something every kid new about. Depending on what type of kid you were, you either always wanted to go or you dreaded going. I was in the group that wanted to go. But it wasn't really for the basic reasons of summer camp. Because my view of what those were like came from all kinds of 90s cartoons, PBS kids shows, TV shows, and movies that depicted how epic they were supposed to be. They made camp counselors look goofy and that kids had more free reign than they did at home. The epic competitions, prank wars, and doing all sorts of crazy stuff late into a summer night was the stuff of dreams.

But we all know that TV tends to exaggerate things and summer camps were not cheap endeavors. Plus none of my friends went to summer camp so it wasn't something that was in the cards for me. But in the summer of 2004, now living in Cleveland, OH, opportunity arose. It turns out that the church group out here ran a multitude of summer events for the youth and one of them was called Jr. High Family Camp. It was a week long Christian youth camp that focused on kids in Jr. High (5th-8th grade), but was open to families as well. And who were the counselor's? Any high schooler, college student, or adult who so desired to give their time and heart to serve. The big kicker? It was located in a remote area of Pennsylvania. The town was called Laurelville and it was almost halfway between Cleveland and Abbottstown, PA.

All the young people I had met through church were going and my family thought it would be a good idea to get involved. So while my three younger brothers were not old enough to be full participants, the camp was open to families so everyone, my parents included, made the journey. A three hour drive later I found myself in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by trees. Then buildings appeared. Some that appeared to be old and some on the modern side. I wondered which ones would house us. The camp itself was huge.

First stop was check-in. We let the leaders know we had arrived and we received our room assignments. While there were more rustic, camping style options, the organizers went for the more luxurious options. We exited the check-in and drove up a back hill where we found ourselves in front of a small motel and a lodge. The lodge had two floors with plenty of rooms on each floor. The rooms were hotel style with big comfy beds, a full bathroom in each room, and an AC unit, but no TV. The motel was the same, but it was like a standard motel where it was a one floor building and each door led to a room. The families were put in the motel and all the campers and their group leaders were put in the lodge. All the boys were put in the second floor rooms and all the girls were put in the first floor rooms. Strict rules were put in play where if the boys entered the lodge, they were only allowed to go up to the second floor and not linger on the first. The girls were not allowed on the second floor for any reason. Violators were warned there would be repercussions if those rules were broken. This arrangement would bring about a very interesting turn of events later in the week.

The only scheduled thing for the first night was the welcome meeting where we were given our packets and supplies needed for the week, the schedule layout, the rules and regulations, and all other necessary information. The general schedule for each day was as follows: Breakfast, group time, large meeting, lunch, afternoon activities, group time, dinner, break, group time, large meeting, evening activity, lights out. The last day's schedule would be different as it would contain two big events known as the talent show and the grand finale called the Bible Bowl. More on those later. One other note is that all the events throughout the week earned points towards the Bible Bowl. That included having the cleanest rooms, verse memorization, and not losing your belongings. 

But with reward also came consequence for failing the standard. Another aspect to this camp was to teach people how to be responsible human beings. Having a clean room and not letting it look like a pig-sty was one of those life lessons. During one of the activity times, room inspectors would do an inspection of the rooms, take notes, and report back to the leaders. Room inspection announcements normally came at dinner so the inspectors could make sure the room looked tidy throughout the whole day. Some rooms were spotless by lunch, but after the afternoon activities, they became a disaster. Being a camp rookie, I didn't think our room was that bad. Turns out I was dead wrong. Our room was announced as the worst room that night. We got nailed for sloppy beds, towels on the bathroom floor, clothes in places they didn't belong, water on the bathroom floor, etc. Our one saving grace was that it was the first day. First day offenders got a warning so they would know what the standard was. There was no mercy for second failure. When we returned to the room, we had to see the other rooms that got high marks. It was apparent why ours was the worst. Our serving one who was in the room, Tim B, apologized and said he knew better having been a junior high camp veteran. That "worst room" label put a competitive jolt in him as he said we were going to have the best room at some point this week. I was determined to see that happen.

Before I go on, I have to talk about Tim B for a minute. I got to know him a bit over the past year living in Cleveland. He gave me a lot of grief for the Pittsburgh Steelers shirts I wore (rightly so as I was an Eagles fan in Browns territory), like to make very bad dad jokes, and loved playing basketball with the young people. But this camp was where I'd really get to know him more. I discovered that he had to take a week off work to serve a bunch of rowdy junior high kids. I learned that he found joy in seeing joy on the kid's faces and would do things to make it happen. He deeply loved the Lord and desired the kids he was with to find that same love. To him, it was worth giving up vacation time for. I will share some of the moments that inspired me as we go on in this tale.

For the first big afternoon activity, we all went to the on-site gym the camp had. When we arrived, there were dodgeballs all lined up in the center of the floor. Then the obvious was announced that we would indeed be playing dodgeball. And when they announced it was going to be boys vs girls, the boys let out a loud roar while some of the girls did not look to enthused. To start it was jr. high vs jr high only. The two sides lined up on either end and when the siren blared, it was off to the races. Chaos ensued in blazing speed. One minute I was charging the line and the moment I blinked, a ball nearly took off my head. The rest of that game was a blur. But I do remember the slow build-up to a full scale onslaught. The teams changed from Jr. High and HS girls vs Jr. High boys. Then the HS boys were added. Followed by any college girls that wanted to join. By then if your senses weren't honed in, you were going to taste rubber. I witnessed some kids take some heavy blows. After a few tears and some comforting, they eventually re-entered the chaos. The play of the day came from the girl's side. A HS boy was targeting a specific HS girl. He unleashed a throw so hard that when it connected it knocked her down. But instead of having to leave the field, she hung on and caught the ball, not only eliminating the HS boy, but getting one of her eliminated teammates back with that spectacular catch. Everyone in the building went nuts. The play was so iconic that it was talked about the entire week.

After about an hour or so, they announced the split of activities. The girls were off to the pool and the boys were going to stick around in the gym for more dodgeball punishment. Here's where things went crazy. The older boy serving ones who weren't allowed to play when it was boys vs girls were now allowed to enter the battlefield. It was like unleashing powerful cannons that were hidden until the final salvo. One person in particular, Johnny P, had a deadly throw that was both risky and effective. He would load a ball into one hand, turn his back towards the firing line, then do a full 180 and unleashed the ball in a direction that could not be predicted. If it connected, you were in a world of hurt, but he also turned his back on enemy fire, so it could turn into an easy KO. One loose cannon of a throw ended up causing a casualty to someone not in play. One team was losing pretty bad. As more people got out, the longer the line that was waiting for a caught ball became. As the line got longer, people slowly shifted out of it to see the action. It wasn't long before the back end of the line curved into the field of play. Johnny wound up one of his no-look throws and fired it at full strength. The ball took a direction of its own out of his hand and scored a direct hit to the face of an unsuspecting jr. high kid in the "out" line, but standing in the field of play. Game action was suddenly halted as aid was rushed to the poor kid. After a few minutes, the kid had his marbles back in place and was helped to the restroom to clear up his sore face. The onslaught resumed shortly after. We dodged, ducked, dipped, dived, and dodged for another hour before it was our turn to cool off in pool.

The rest of that first day was a combination of excitement, relaxation, and getting a deeper understanding of God's word. The group time I mentioned previously happened after multiple times a day and usually consisted of going over a section in the Bible to find the facts. For a jr high kid, those times would only be as good as what I was willing to put in. If I got bored or distracted, I gained nothing. But if I paid attention and my curiosity got the better of me, I would actually learn something I didn't know before or gain something about life that was useful. The nice thing about the small group time after dinner was that it was always a "get to know your group" time. Lots of interesting ice breaker questions. I found that one so much fun because the social side of me was more than happy to share the parts and quirks that made me tick. 

The day would eventually wind down for an altogether group time with singing and a message from the Bible. In a way, I found these messages more fascinating than a typical Sunday morning message because these were given by mostly college kids who would sometimes perform mini skits to better portray the story they were sharing about. The messages combined with the massive group singing was an uplifting way to nearly close out a long day.

The last thing each night was always a different activity. For the first night, the boys returned to the dodgeball arena but this time to play a different game. The dodgeballs were traded for basketballs and it was last man standing in a fiercely competitive game of Knockout. For those unfamiliar with this game, everyone forms a single-file line from the foul line on the basketball court going straight back to the wall. The first two people in line each have a basketball. As soon as the first person shoots, the second person shoots. If the first person scores, they pass the ball to the next person in line and go to the end. If the second person scores before the first person, the first person is out and the second person goes to the end of the line. This pattern continues until one person outlasts everyone else. Seeing as there were over 40 people involved, the games got intense and there was a lot of cheering, laughing, and the occasional light jest when someone got knocked out. I wanted so badly to win one, but that night wasn't my night. But I did get to experience something I really hadn't before. That was the joy of being able to play large games with a large group of kids. As I was homeschooled most of my life up until this point, I lacked a lot of that type of experience. And I was loving every moment of it.

Stayed tuned as I continue this journey through my first summer camp, as I have more exciting and life altering stories to tell, more people of my life to introduce you to, and more memories to explore. This was only the beginning.

Short Lived, But Memories Remain. Goodbye 2023

When looking back on all the different years I've traversed in life and wondering if I were to rank them, how 2023 would fare. It would certainly not be near the bottom. It does have great arguments to be in consideration for the top ten and maybe even top five. But rankings aside, 2023 does have one thing that will forever be marked in my memory. And that is for the first time in three years, it felt like a normal year. By that I mean the thoughts and threats of Covid did not plague my mind. Many days I went about as if it didn't happen. Don't get me wrong, the aftershocks, repercussions, and the way our world has changed because of it are still there and still apparent. Which goes the same for every major human calamity. But 2023 was truly the first year for me since 2020 that Covid was an afterthought. In celebration of that, I wanted to close it out with a recap of life highlights that 2023 brought. 

January is usually a coin toss for excitement. Some years, a key life moment happens and others it feels like a short hibernation. Well something happened this year that was 10 years in the making. I wrote two letters to myself in 2013. One from my 2013 self to my 2023 self, and one from the perspective of my 2023 self to my 2013 self. I never thought an experiment like that would last that long. There were definitely times when I needed to hear good things that I wanted to rip that letter open and comfort myself. But I held off. When January 1st, 2023 rolled in, I opened that 10 year old envelope and read it live on Facebook. That proved to be a wonderful experiment to see how my life was and what it became. To see some of my dreams from 10 years ago come true and the encouragement I gave myself really come in clutch. A long project that was totally worth it.

I've mentioned numerous times on this blog before about the hobby of geocaching. What I don't always mention is the community it creates. This game literally takes people from different walks of life and unites them in a way that standard norms wouldn't. We're a pretty tight knit bunch that always has room for more. An exceptional part of this hobby is the social aspect it creates. Every year there are local events and national events that draw geocachers to socialize, discuss geocaching, and to simply enjoy life a bit more. There are a handful of monthly events in Northeast Ohio, but this year, we decided to do something a bit more extravagant. We kept those monthly events, but decided to do one event every week for the year and call it 52 Card Pickup. Each event awarded you with on playing card from the 52 card deck. Those cards will be used to create whatever poker hands you can make at the end of the year to get chances to earn some cool prizes. It was a crazy idea as we needed enough people to host 52 events and there was the thought that who would be willing to attend that many events each month and the whole year? Geocachers that's who. The host list filled up super quick and the locations were spread out all over Northeast Ohio. To watch this crazy plan unfold throughout the year was going to be a real treat.

Being part of this community also lead to a unique opportunity. Since geocaches are hidden all over the world and are meant to bring you to new places you haven't been, geocachers tend to travel far and wide. One member of our community, George Markusic, likes to plan and go on multiple trips throughout the year. He opens them up to whomever can make the time and expense to go. I pulled the trigger on my first one this March. The trip was planned for the E.T. highway out in Western Nevada. The E.T. highway is Nevada's state route 375 that runs from Las Vegas to Tonopah and runs near Area 51. It's two lanes through miles of desert, open range, and mountain formations. Our purpose for going was the first power trail in geocaching history was placed there. A power trail is hundreds to thousands of caches placed the minimum distance apart allowed by the geocaching organization. So if you enjoy finding a lot of geocaches in a shorter amount of time than normal and want to boost your finds, that's what this is for. Nine of us flew from Cleveland to Las Vegas. We then acquired rental cars and drove to the starting point of the E.T. Highway. It was sunny and beautiful for our first day. We saw aliens, amazing views, and found 500 caches on day one. 

We started day 2 on the western side of the state. The weather turned on us becoming cold, overcast, and snow flurries flew. We completed all the caches along the paved portion of the highway and in order to get the rest of the caches hidden out there, we had to go on unmarked dirt roads into the desert. As we went higher in elevation, the snow picked up. We were forced off the dirt roads so as not to get stuck. Day 3 the sunshine returned, but it was super cold. We returned to the dirt roads as we had to go deep into the desert to get the oldest active geocache in Nevada. I saw more epic rock formations, wild horses, and the views were still incredible. We made it to the oldest and after some decent rock climbing, we made the find. But everything went downhill from there. The dirt roads were super soft due to all the precipitation. We had three rental cars and two of them were probably not meant for desert dirt roads. Needless to say, we got one of them stuck with no cell service and 20+ miles deep. We had no choice but to get it unstuck. Through a lot of pushing and pulling, we freed the car. We couldn't go back the way we came and had to go down a different road. While that one had a bit firmer dirt, we had to cross four water live water crossings. That was a trip. Took us over an hour to get back to the main highway. What's an adventure without a little drama?

By day 4, the snow became problematic. We decided to pause the E.T. highway and drive south to get away from the snow. We ended up caching in a plethora of historic and old goldrush towns, still in the snow. We had made it 70 miles south and decided to stop for lunch. Then a plan was formed. We were 30 miles from Death Valley, CA, so we went for it. We finally cleared the snow, but as we entered Death Valley, we were greeted with rain. One of the driest places in the continental US and it was raining. No matter because once we reached sea level, it was sunny and 65! And Death Valley had views to die for. We even ate ice cream which we got from an oasis in Death Valley. It was a much welcomed twist to this adventure.

When I woke up for Day 5, I was told to pack my bags as the snow had officially won. We would be abandoning the ET highway and headed for greener pastures. We left Tonopah and drove all the way to the Arizona border. We cached through Arizona and up into St. George, UT, where we would be staying for one day. Why here? Because George made the call to visit Zion National Park. And what a call that was. 

We eventually had to get back to Las Vegas, so we spent the final day driving and caching back there with a detour to the Hoover Dam along the way. Overall we ended up with a little over 1600 cache finds, many highs (6,000ft above sea level) and lows (20ft below sea level), tons of pictures, and plenty of memories for a lifetime. What an epic trip that was.

When April appeared, my longtime high school friend, Ryan, and I were about to embark on take 2 of our attempt to see a NASCAR race at Bristol Motor Speedway. Our first attempt was in 2020 and well, I'll let that year speak for itself. Easter weekend we drove from Cleveland down to Bristol, TN. We stopped at the border of TN and VA and took in the sights. The next day we drove down to Knoxville to be tourists for the afternoon and took in the views from the Sunsphere and the park built for the World's Fair back in the 80s. We then drove back to Bristol to catch the truck race. Then, Easter Sunday we rounded things off with the Cup race. This weekend was quite unique in the fact that NASCAR turned the track into a dirt track for the weekend. They'd been doing it for a number of years, but this one was the last. I got into NASCAR in 2001 and after twelve years, I finally made it to a Cup race.

April also kicked off some new baseball goals I had set for myself. The first was to attend one game every month from April-September. The second was to see four games that included the last four MLB teams I had never seen play live (Rockies, Brewers, Mets, and Rangers). The Rockies came to town the end of April and it was a cold, rainy day for a baseball game. The Guardians didn't get the W, but I checked the Rockies off the list.

I took a travel pause for the month of May but ended up hanging out with a lot of friends, going to numerous geocaching events, and adding another baseball game to the streak. My favorite season came calling and so did June. The cherry tree in my back yard produced a bounty of fruit and I decided to host a cookout/cherry picking day. I ended up BBQ'ing for 34 people that day. I ended up going to two Guardians games, both against the Brewers, which left the Mets and Rangers left to see and my monthly streak remained in tact.

My next adventure would take place the week after when I flew back to the the west coast, but this time it was to the Pacific Northwest in Portland, OR. My purpose for doing so was to visit Jesse, who had moved there recently. It was a long flight, but worth it as it's always a blast to visit people in new areas. In a few short days, we did an hour long hike that led to a scenic view of the river that borders Washington and Oregon, ate lots of delicious food, visited Powell's book store (the largest independent book store in the US), and Jesse was even kind enough to drive me 40 min to the site where the very first geocache was hidden. I did accidentally end up missing on a 20+ year old cache because I didn't realize it was nearby. Oh well. Portland was quite the experience.

July almost never disappoints. It starts off with Independence Day and everything else elevates from there. I participated in our annual summer youth conference that I been attending since 2004 and have not missed one yet. I tore a big hole in my shorts not realizing how flimsy they were when I crammed a giant metal water bottle in my back pocket. Thankfully I located some duct tape and patched them for the rest of the day. I also had the privilege of attending Hassan's (former co-worker) wedding about the same time. Thanks to that invite, I have been to at least one wedding every year since 2014 (2020 does not count). But in all the weddings I've had the pleasure of attending, I was not prepared for an intro to the wedding party like the one that occurred here. The party came in via DJ intros and then they were followed by massive drums and intense music. This went on for a good 10-15 min before everyone was seated and food was served. This is one of the many reasons I love weddings. Congrats again Hassan!

Ryan and I rendezvoused again, but this time to make a long awaited return to the Big Apple. I hadn't been in nearly four years and I haven't been to a Met's game, so this was the perfect excuse to go back. My trips to New York always have memorable moments and this one was loaded with them. On the first night we met up with some of Ryan's friends for dinner, but also to remember a Ming. In 2019, Ming was a stranger to me. But he extended the offer to Ryan to bring a friend to his wedding. After that adventure, we were strangers no more. The kindness he showed me that weekend wad incredible. The fact that he still mentioned me to Ryan over the years was a sign of a caring person. I wish I could've gone back sooner, but Covid and life had other ideas. Sadly Ming developed cancer and it wasn't caught in time. He passed almost exactly one year ago from the moment of this writing. He will be missed and meeting the other people he called friends was a nice way to honor him. 

The morning after, Ryan and I split to do some things on our own. I met up with Sam Chen and got to meet his son. We wandered central park for a while before parting ways. I geocached more of NYC before re-uniting with Ryan. We eventually grabbed a subway all the way to Queens because we had a Met's game to go see. We had to wait out a short rain delay, but we ended up getting a full 9 innings of baseball in. I always worry about a rain-out because that means another plane ticket and missed opportunity. The Met's lost extending my record for the home team of 2 wins and 10 losses for MLB games I've attended outside of Cleveland. But I got to check the Mets and Citi Field off the lists. 

The last day snuck up on us, but it had moments that I will speak of for years to come. Before this trip, I had been to NYC three times prior. The first time I made sure to visit Ground Zero. The second time I happened to be close, so I stopped by again. The third I went with a group, some of whom had not been there yet, so I found myself there a third time. I decided that if possible, I would make a point to visit Ground Zero if possible each time I find myself in NYC. Why? Because I'm an American who still has some pride in this scared country. And I realize the cost that many men and women paid through that horrible event. So to be there and pay respect is something I feel to do. 

I got a double dose of Chen bros as we were able to meet up with John before our evening plans. It was in that moment I found out his wedding was going to be in San Diego in 2024, so guess where one of my adventures will take me next year! After we split, Ryan and I had one last thing to experience. We were going to the top of Rockefeller Center a.k.a. The Top of the Rock. We did have a bit of time to kill so we stopped in a restaurant for a break. Ryan and I were shooting the breeze and I mentioned my trip to Australia. The server overheard and jumped in. Turns out she was an Aussie who had moved to NYC for a change of pace. I had a blast sharing stories of my travels down under and hearing about her life there. Eventually Ryan and I had to get going and on the way out I said "Aussie Aussie Aussie!" and was met with a boisterous "Oi Oi Oi!" Great, unexpected moment. By 9PM, we found ourselves at the top of the Rock. I had been to the top of both the Empire State building and the new One World Trade Center before, but this one was a real treat. The view was absolutely amazing, especially at night and worth every penny to go up there. What an incredible way to close out another awesome adventure.

Can't close out July without discussing the Midwest Geo-bash. Each year, hundreds of geocachers descend upon the Wauseon fairgrounds in Ohio for five days of camping, geocaching, events, contests, and a whole ton of fun. This was the first year I stayed multiple days. And I had a blast. lots of late nights around campfires, lots of laughs, lots of geocaches, and I also participated in a Texas Hold'em tournament for geocoins and ended up placing 15 out of 40. Not bad for my first ever tournament. The Bash has become a must do on my list for each year. And The day after the Bash ended, I kept my Guardians baseball streak alive with a game for July.

Our annual family trip that happens every August came next and this year we were back in Wisconsin. But this visit would be a bit different as it was the first time we wouldn't be staying with family (but we would still see a lot of them) and the first time my brother Tim would not be with us. We rented a large cabin way out in the woods, but really only slept there. The list of things we did include going to Interstate Park on the Wisconsin/Minnesota border for a day, drove over 2 hours to Gooseberry Falls in Minnesota, stopped by Lake Superior (and touched it), did a lot of fishing, lots of fires, food, family and cats. By this point my state visited count for the year was in the double digits (final count at the end). But the year wasn't over yet! Oh and August also held an important milestone. The 22nd marked the 20th year I've resided in the Buckeye State. Two whole decades. Crazy.

I squeezed in a ball game in August before the calendar turned to September. But once it did I completed my two major baseball goals for the year. I attended a Guardians game vs the Rangers in which the Guards blew them away 12-3. I checked the last major league team off the list as I had officially seen every MLB team play a game live (most at Progressive field of course). I also finished the regular season streak of at least 1 game a month April-September. I felt accomplished. But baseball wasn't done for me yet as I had two more rodeos up my sleeve. The first came on the 23rd when I attended my final Guardians game of the season. The playoff-bound Baltimore Orioles were in town and I nearly witnessed my first no hitter live. John Means had not allowed any Guardian to record a hit going into the 8th inning. He ended up making one mistake as Andres Giminez clobbered a home run. I was glad we didn't get no-hit, but was oh so close to witnessing a rare feat live. I had another problem. If I'm going to make it to every MLB ballpark in a reasonable amount of time, one a year isn't going to cut it. I reached out to some friends in Chicago and asked if I could visit and if they'd be interested in a White Sox game. I got the affirmative and on the last weekend of the baseball season, I drove to Chicago and got to witness one final game with 9 other people, the most to ever join me on my ballpark tour. Ten games, three ballparks, two goals, and one pretty fly baseball season. And on my way back to Cleveland, I stopped in Indiana to find the oldest geocache in the state and make my 7,000th find. Milestones baby.

October was a month that had a big life shift. My parents sold the first house they ever bought, the one I had lived in the longest (a little over 12 years), and the one they lived in for the last 17 years. Circumstances became very favorable to do so and thus it was time. It wasn't the first house I lived in and I don't consider it my childhood home, but for 13 years of my life, it was home just the same. Taking one last walk and turning in my set of keys was bittersweet. Another chapter has ended and a fresh one had begun.

I took another month off from travel in November, but enjoyed all the fun local events and get-togethers I had with friends and family. Especially the two Friendsgivings I attended as well as the first Thanksgiving in my parent's new place. That brings us to December. And while all the holiday festivities and the Christmas season are something I always look forward to, the highlight for this month was being able to spend Christmas with my immediate and extended family in Maryland and Pennsylvania. Lots of driving, but also lots of joy. 

If you've made it this far, I thank you and appreciate you. Being able to look back on a year of life and share it with those willing to take the time to read it is truly a blessing. Overall I went on nine trips, set foot in 14 states (NV, CA, AZ, UT, TN, VA, OR, NY, WI, MN, IL, IN, MD, & PA), four of them for the first time, made new friends, reconnected with ones of old, had highs and lows, and made many memories to last a lifetime. Here's to the dawn of a new year. Many well wishes and blessings to you all.

The Story of My Life: What is Love?

Six months. That's how long it took after I started public school to decide I wanted a girlfriend. Yes, my newly found hormones were partially to blame. Yet, they were not my sole reason for this sudden desire. Before I get into all those details, I have to preface some things. The first is that even though I'm sharing personal parts of my life for all the world to read, whenever I deem it necessary, I may change names and certain details for obvious reasons. Secondly, there are stories that will appear here or have appeared here that have never been told in part or in full. This will be one of them. Now that you have been informed, let's proceed with this tale.

My first two quarters of public school I spent trying to get adjusted to my new life. I was concerned with being able to fit in, dealing with severe anxiety, and trying to be a straight A student because anything else to me meant I wasn't good enough. As time marched on, my concern for those things lessened. I began making friends and was slowly establishing myself. A big part of this development was observation. I paid close attention to how the popular kids acted and how the ones who seemed to have a core group of friends carried themselves. I had become pretty good friends with two people who were dating. One was very athletic and loved basketball. Basketball was the sport I enjoyed most as a kid. While I was nowhere near as good as him, he never once told me I sucked when we played and saw some potential in me. I admired him for that. His girlfriend was incredibly kind and had a way of making an awkward and nerdy kid felt seen. She could definitely catch your eye in a crowded room and the fact that she treated me like a good friend early on made me feel like I was on cloud 9.

Those two gelled really well together and when I saw what they had, I knew it was something I wanted. When I thought about who I might fancy, I was surprised how quickly someone came to mind. We'll call her Laura (not her real name). She was of the quiet type, at least in a public setting. Not tall in stature, but I found her really cute and loved her smile. My last bit of reasoning was that if I took my shot with someone who was closer to my league, I'd have a smaller chance of being rejected. 

I hadn't interacted with her too much in the first half of the year, thus making me wonder if she even noticed me. My solution to this problem was to try to talk to her more. Say "hi" in the hallways. Try to make small talk when opportunity arose. I even sat at nearby lunch tables or the same one if it was of the larger type. I thought I was putting my best effort forward while being as subtle as possible. I also was nervous about asking her out and was waiting for what I hoped would be the right opportunity. That opportunity was going to come much faster than I expected.

One fateful afternoon, I logged into the computer and waited for the ever painful dial-up to connect. As soon as it did, I logged into AIM. Before I could open the browser, I hear the all familiar "ping". An instant message popped up before my eyes. It was from someone not on my friend's list, but her screen-name was mostly her birth name. So I knew right away who it was. The message was direct. It went something like this: "Hi. I have a question. Do you like Laura?" My eyes went wide. It was blunt and it shattered all my thoughts of having been subtle. I was caught completely off guard. "What?" was all I could reply. "Do you like Laura?" she asked again. I was trapped. I didn't want to lie to her and potentially ruin any chance I had with Laura. So in the nerdiest way possible, I replied with "Seventy percent as a friend and thirty percent like her." "Great. That's all I wanted to know." I don't recall if there was more to that conversation, but I believe it ended there.

I was now in damage control. Laura wasn't on AIM at that moment so I logged out. Later that day, I booted the PC up and logged back in hopping she would be on. Bingo. I opened with a cordial "hello". She responded and I told her I had an important question. I came out blazing. "Do you like me?" There was a short pause in her reply, but to me it was an eternity. *Ping* "No. But we can still be friends. My parents wouldn't let me date right now anyway." And there it was. My first rejection. Was it a dagger? No. But it did feel like a pin prick. A sharp, quick jab whose sting was a fleeting moment.

There was a lot I didn't understand in that moment. But years down the road, so many things became clear. I discovered that I had no idea between feelings and loving someone romantically. The pain was brief because I did not establish anything, share any part of my life with her, nor build up a relationship. Hindsight makes me forever grateful that a relationship did not form. Now that I'm well into my adult years, I fully understand I was in no way, shape, nor form ready for a relationship. Especially not in the seventh grade. At that age, I had no concept of commitment to another person and how much it would be required to actually keep and hold a relationship. There's a reason adults tell you to wait until college or later. Now I'm not saying high school is too early as I've seen those relationships start there, blossom through college, and make it well beyond the average divorce rate. For some people it works out. But when one has matured, acquired a steady job, has their finances in order, and other adulting aspects come to fruition, a relationship becomes more meaningful and has a better chance of lasting for years to come. Plus as a kid, I had my whole life ahead of me. No need to rush into a relationship then because I simply wanted to.

I do need to note that it still took me a while to comprehend all of that as my ignorance in the dating world was going to put me in some goofy situations not long after that very rejection. And as for Laura, I did not try to pursue her anymore through the rest of Jr. High. And surprisingly enough, no one else other than her close friend ever confronted me about my feelings for her. She didn't treat me any different and didn't push me away either. We remained friends for the rest of our Jr. High years. 

I've never told that story to anyone in full. Mainly because I was never really asked, but more so because I didn't really ever have the desire to. You never know when life is going to hit you with an intense, but meaningful lesson. And it definitely taught me some things that still took me a while to fully learn. I felt I needed to include it here as it is a crucial part of my story. And this was only the beginning of find the answer to the age old question...what is love?

How Do I Say This?

I'm not satisfied with that title. I pondered over a slew of options but couldn't find one to best describe what I'm about to say. You may think it doesn't matter that much, but coming from a place of experience, it does. I've been writing this blog for nearly 13 years now. And while I mostly do it for my love of writing and to share my thoughts with anyone who may take a pause to read them, sometimes I do it because I'm hoping certain people will simply happen to see the post and read it. A hail mary of expression if you will. So I ponder these titles and hope they live up to their allure. 

Now to my main reason for this post. I've had a lot on my mind lately. Mostly about people. There's been a lot of change in my connections with many of them throughout the years and it's not always to my liking. As I continue to write my life's story here, the more reflection hits me. That combined with all the different situations surrounding me that are creating chaos in my well being. 

This is going to be somewhat vague and a lot of non-flowing thought, but that's how this cookie is going to crumble. I hope I'm wrong about this first one, but in the past two years, I think I had a long-time friend who I was close with in high school and have kept in touch with throughout the years suddenly ghost me. I visited this person last in 2021 and nothing seemed off then. But for the last two years, not one response to a single text. Maybe they changed their number and forgot to tell me, but I don't truly believe that because if someone else had gotten that number, they may have sent me a "wrong number" reply which I never got. And this person hasn't made one attempt to reach out to me in two years, even though I've tried numerous times. It gnaws at me because I'm always wondering if it's something I did or said and have no idea what it could be I'm hoping I'm simply wrong and they somehow reappear again.

I have another high school friend who was very influential on my passion for writing. And when I say influential, I mean they are 80% of the reason I not only decided to continue writing through high school and beyond, but they also critiqued it in a way and helped me refine it to be closer to what it is today. After we graduated, I was able to keep in touch a bit throughout college. They moved out of state post college and I have tried a few times throughout the years to meet up, but it has not yet worked out. I haven't seen this person in 14 years and there are times I wish I could reconnect with them, even for a day.

There was someone who came from another state, lived here for a handful of years, was close with my age group of friends, and served in the church. This person eventually moved back to where they came from and I did not see them as much anymore, but still thought about them from time to time. Then seemingly out of nowhere, I found out they had blocked me on facebook. It caught me off guard as I could not fathom what I had done to cause such a heavy action. It hurt. And I still have no idea to this day what was the cause. I wish I knew. If it was something I did to offend them, it was unintentional and I would like to mend that situation. Even if I don't believe I did anything wrong, it kills me not knowing what happened.

A friend from many moons ago was involved in my childhood. Then when I moved away, we simply drifted apart. I managed to get in touch with them years later, but that was the last time. They've basically fallen off the grid. Facebook account is long gone. They changed their phone number and the only person I could get it from was told not to give it out. I have not seen them in nearly ten years. Yet, they still inhabit my thoughts every now and then. And I would honestly go to great lengths just to get a phone call from them.

Then there are many dear friends whom I've known for years, but we live quite far apart. I would still see them frequently as our churches did many joint events throughout the years. But in recent times, there have been changes that have caused me to see them less and less. We're not on bad terms by any means. Far from it. But not having seen some of them in 5-10 years is quite maddening. On a recent trip I got into a deep discussion with a friend. In that conversation, they asked a simple question. "Is there anyone you really want to see?" I didn't hold back, I rattled off a lengthy list of names. The reality of it is, if you told me that I could see at least one of these people again, but there would be a price, I'd have two words. "Name it." 

Exposing thought. There are times I wish I didn't care as much as I do. Because then these empty holes wouldn't hurt so much. Second exposing thought. There are some people that don't fall into the MIA category. But there are some things that I wish they knew that I don't have the words to express it to them for fear of damaging a relationship that isn't currently damaged. Who knows, maybe one day the cards will be played right, the door will open, and it will be necessary to spill the beans. But for now, I'll keep riding the waves.

I started this post over a month ago, when my feelings on this subject were much stronger than they are now. But I didn't want this post to end up as one of the many unfinished and unpublished drafts sitting on this blog. As I finish this, I realize there's not really a good time to post something like this, but felt the need to let it loose. Ultimately, I'm in good shape. But these thoughts and feelings of missing people come and go like the wind. Maybe a resolution will come and maybe it won't. Only time will be able to reveal that. That is all.