Week Three, Over and Out

The last week (and if last year is any indication, the best week) starts today. After two Junior weeks, a teen week, and weekends and the beach, it's hard to believe my Hawaiian Adventure is almost over. 

This week is Junior Missions Week. It's a smaller week (last year I just had two campers) and most, if not all, of the kids are unsaved. They come from all over the island, and the incredible generosity of the churches allows them to experience camp for free. Last night we were able to go to a housing complex and play with kids and talk to their parents and invite them to camp. I think a few are going to come, and I can't wait to see them again.

It's amazing to me how quickly you can love someone. A few of the little boys last night completely stole my heart. They asked my if they could pick me flowers, and soon I had a huge bouquet of grass and leaves. When I left one little five-year-old gave me the tightest hug I may have ever gotten. I know I may never see those little ones again, but God really put a burden on my heart for the kids He loves so much. 

I had an amazing cabin this week. The girls made decisions to listen to Jesus, love Jesus, obey Jesus, obey their parents, and stand for God. They cried, I cried, and we praised God together. We wrote letters to our parents, and I was able to be there with my arm around a little girl as she forgave the parents who abandoned her and expressed her love to the one's who raised her. The note, and both of us, were covered in tears, but we felt God so closely. 

My cabin wasn't great at frisbee golf or archery, but I won my first game of knock-out, the Blue team won cheer competition and the week, and my girls may have set a record on number of pixie sticks and hotdogs eaten. Lots of sugar before bed makes for a very tired counselor, but I was more thankful than ever for the Junior week nap time. 

Friday night we crashed for a couple of hours before heading out to night snorkle and attempt to spear fish. I had the spear for probably a grand total of 2 minutes before deciding to just snorkle. We swam over a huge sea turtle and saw some amazing fish (that we then caught, killed, roasted over a fire, and ate like savages on the beach). We slept for a few hours before heading out to the North Shore for shopping, kalua pork eating, stand-up paddling, and shave ice eating, and the team ended the day with dinner and a singspiration at some sweet church peoples' home. They feed us well out here.

Well, We Survived

Newsflash: my time in Hawaii is almost halfway over. Not sure if I've decided to accept this fact yet.

Yesterday was the first day I really missed home. My dad's the best one out there and I really wanted to be with him on Father's Day. Thank goodness for technology.

Teen week was hard. I had an awesome cabin with four awesome girls, but after our whirlwind weekend tour of the island and a double potluck we were all exhausted.

My campers were wonderful. They all came to camp with different stories and were eager to share. Normally I have to purposefully look for time and opportunities for one-on-one time, but this week each camper came to me to talk. How cool is that?

Here are just a few highlights from this week:

1. Teaching my campers "Splish Splash I was A-Takin a Bath"

2. Conquering my fear of slip-n-slides. I've never really liked slip-in-slides. I usually end up bruised, sore, and covered in grass, and none of these things are appealing. Last year I quickly volunteered to hold the hose and re-apply soap to avoid any slipping or sliding. But after a pointed rebuke in staff training (thank you, Jon) I got my heart right and decided to try the thing.

And I loved it. It took me several tries to get all the way to the end, and some people questioned my methods, but I did it. Victory is so sweet.

3. These guys tried to learn us how fo speak pidgin. I'm not very good but I'm trying. Maybe the junior campers can help me out this week.

4. Mrs. Sivnksty, our speaker's wife, spoke to the girls Thursday morning. She so sweetly shared her story and then answered questions. The girls were so open, and by the end we were all laughing and crying and praising Jesus together.



5. We went hiking. I guess this is less of a highlight and more of an accomplishment, but the view at the top was amazing and none of my campers died or were seriously injured and I didn't rip my shorts scooting down the mountain so I'd call that a success.

6. On Thursday nights we sing and make smore's around a fire and share testimonies. I love it for two reasons. First, since I can't eat graham crackers I get a whole Hershey's bar. There have been times when the thought of that Hershey's bar has gotten me through the week. But most importantly, I get to here what the kids and counselors have learned that week. We were out at the fire for over an hour and heard so many clear presentations of grace.  I was reminded again of why I'm here.

To love Jesus and love His children, no matter how old they are. Junior Two starts today, and I'm ready for whatever a group of 8-year-olds can throw at me. Maybe.

Week One is Done

One week week of Junior Camp, one whirlwind weekend, and we're ready for week two! Not a lot of sleep has happened in the last week, but I'm the good kind of tired, and teens should be easier, right?

This last week I had the privilege of hanging out with "The Butterful Girls of the Centipede Slayer." I'm the Centipede Slayer, btw. I killed three this week, two with shampoo bottles and one with the end of a toilet brush. (Lesson learned: it never hurts to have your campers see you be brave. You'll get a cool nickname out of it.) The "butterful" part came from a discussion of a cupcake delivery service that we'll be starting soon. Stay tuned.

The Butterfuls are 10, 11, and 12. They love Minecraft (not Mindcraft, as I previously thought), mac n' cheese, and talking about boys. I taught them the proper uses of "y,all" and "all y'all" and they taught me all the many ways you can eat Spam. Our whole cabin was drafted to play the parts

of an Egyptian princess (that would be me) and her servants (the girls loved that) in a sermon illustration. They asked really good questions, and when I didn't have answers, which was a lot of the time, we looked for them together. I learned that discipleship can happen during a game of Frisbee golf or when doing an Elsa braid. I learned that girls struggle with the same things whether they're 10 or 20. I learned that when the girls ask what you're reading and you say Hosea, you'll have some major explaining to do, but it's so worth it to see them get their sin and see their Savior. And then they may teach you a thing or two.

On Wednesday night one of my sweet girls came back during the invitation crying. She was burdened for an unsaved friend and wanted help, first with her walk with God and then with her relationship with others. I don't remember the time I cried over a friend's salvation, and her emotion and deep love for the world around her was rebuking. Together we found out what God says about grace and how to live in a way that points to the Cross. It's still incredible to me that God brought me to such a beautiful place with such beautiful children to teach me His truth.

This week of camp was hard. There was a lot of work to do to get the campground ready, so we all started camp tired, but God was more than enough this week. After a relaxing afternoon Friday, we spent Saturday touring the island in an Amazing Race competition. The Blue Beard Buccaneers may have lost the week, but we counselors crushed it as a team this weekend. We ate a 30-scoop sundae in 7 minutes, jumped off a 35-foot rock into the ocean, conquered the world's largest maze, and lei'd a random stranger at the airport. Then we went back to the house and crashed before two Sunday services and two potlucks. We eat a lot here in Hawaii.

Michelle's basically an older, wiser, blonde version of me. She reminds me to laugh at myself and always knows what I'm thinking. You need friends like that at camp, so I'm pretty lucky to have her.

We're leaving for week two pretty soon. This week is teen camp and I can't wait. Please continue to pray for strength and open hearts. God's going to do amazing things.

My God is So Big

Well, aside from being the most unfaithful and sporadic blogger in the world, I’m also pretty stinkin tired. Note to self: mono doesn’t go away when you’re on a beautiful tropical island.

It’s 11:00 here, which is pretty late for a bunch of mainland girls who may not have quite adjusted to the time change yet. We normally go to bed around 9:30 and wake up around 7:30. I keep telling myself the early wake up time is just preparation for camp.

Tonight at 9:30, however, we were leaving a park in Palolo Valley and headed back home after our first Hawaiian Challenge. God brought around 60 kids out to a park in the middle of a low-income housing area to play a version of kickball I’m pretty sure our camp director Jon made up off the top of his head, eat pizza, watch a skit (I played a pregnant woman with the help of one of the kickballs), and hear how much Jesus loves them. I was reunited with some former campers and one of last year’s speakers and made a ton of new friends. The kids we met tonight have the opportunity to come to camp thanks to the incredible generosity of the sweet church people here in Hawaii, and we’re praying they will.

On the way to Palolo tonight the team prayed for a lot of kids who would be excited about the gospel and camp. God answered those prayers as the kids cheered at the top of their lungs, laughed at everything we said, played hard, listened well, and asked questions. Almost every kid left with an application and a clear explanation of the Cross. Please pray with us for full weeks of camp, but more importantly, pray for the salvation of these kids. I pray that the love they received from the team tonight points them to Jesus, who loves them perfectly.

My back is sore from piggyback rides and my voice is hoarse from back to back nights of cheering, but I couldn’t be more excited for the dozens of piggyback rides and cheer competitions that the next four weeks hold. God’s spent the last week humbling me and lovingly pointing me to my need of continual, never-ending grace, and pretty soon, I get to tell my sweet girls all about that grace. God has so much to teach me, and He brought me to Hawaii to do it. How cool is that?

Unaccompanied Minor(s)

 Good morning from 35,000 feet. As promised, I have quite the story for you.

My flight out of Atlanta was scheduled to leave around 7:30, meaning I needed to get the airport around 6 because Atlanta is crazy. My parents and I came to Atlanta last night, knowing that a three-hour drive from Greenville at 3 a.m. did not sound appealing. As we got ready to leave the hotel this morning our car died…only to miraculously start after I was already on the shuttle and running late. Thankfully I made it through the world’s longest security line and to my gate just as they began to board.

Let me introduce you to the other occupants of row 30. In seat A is 8-year-old Joselyn. In seat B is her 5-year-old sister Alisha. In row C is Margaret. Joselyn and Alisha explained to me that they are on their way to visit their grandmother at Disney Land (“But we really just want to meet Elsa, but don’t tell her that.”) The stewardess explained to me that they are unaccompanied minors and the flight crew would be keeping an eye on them during the flight.

I’m not sure where the flight crew has been for the last three and a half hours, but so far this has been the most hilarious and entertaining flight I’ve ever been on (and I’ve been on quite a few. Remember the honeymooners of last summer?) Here’s what’s happening:

1. Combined, the girls have eaten:

·      A box of Oreos

·      A bag of Doritos (more on this later)

·      Two packs of gum (minus one piece that Alisha put in my mouth when I stupidly thought this flight might involve a nap)

·      Two airplane snack boxes (containing crackers, pepperoni, cheese, candy, trailmix, chips, and a cookie)

·      Four cups of apple juice

2. The girls have not had to use the restroom. This is a miracle, but I still have an hour and half left.

3. The three of us (and the two little boys behind us) are completely covered in orange dust from the aforementioned Doritos.

4. When asked what they’d like to watch they chose a documentary on Alaskan crab fishing. 

5. The man whose chair Alisha keeps kicking asked my to please control my daughter.

6. They have played every game on my iPad.

7. J & A just finished singing through the Frozen soundtrack and accompanying themselves with their tic-tacs.

8. We have planned out their weddings, which are, you guessed it, Frozen themed. I’ve been asked to play the tic-tacs at the weddings.

I’m running out of ideas on how to keep up morale on Row 30 for the remainder of the flight.

Nevermind, I’ve just been cast as Sven the Reindeer in the Row 30 Classic Player’s version of Frozen. The other two members of the group will be taking on all the other roles.  I’m really just the understudy for Sven. The pilot was their first choice, but Joselyn said, “you’re better than crashing.”

This has been flight number one. Join us in San Francisco for the big trek across the ocean.

Margaret Meets Hawaii 2

Well well well, if it isn't your favorite blog, back for another exciting adventure. I'm headed back to my favorite tropical island to work at my favorite camp. The blog is my way of keeping you updated on the crazy things that happen to me in airports and the amazing things God does at camp. It may look a lot like last year's blog or it may be totally different. Only time will tell.

I fly out early tomorrow morning from Atlanta. I'm supposed to go from Atlanta to San Francisco to Honolulu. But, if you remember last year, travel for me seldom goes according to plan.

Please pray for safety and smooth travel. Pray for the unity of the team and for the kids coming to camp. I can't wait to meet them and introduce them to you. Pray for health. I've had mono all semester, and still get tuckered out pretty easily. Not sure how that will go with a cabin full of 8 year old girls. Thankful I'm not doing this alone.

I'd love to hear from you while I'm gone! The United States Postal Service delivers mail to Hawaii, since it is indeed in the United States (something everyone who asks if I have my passport ready seems to have forgotten.) Send me a letter and I'll send you back a postcard from paradise!

92-1042 Kanehoa Loop, Kapolei HI 96797

I'll try to keep the blog, Facebook, Instagram, etc. up to date with pictures, but no promises. The beach beats the blog any day, and during camp I'll be totally unplugged. I can't wait to get started!

The Dream Team

This post is dedicated to the truck, for the many precious moments we had in it.

As I was sitting on the plane getting ready to depart Hawaii I got texts from three of the girls at the same time, all reminding me of something wonderful from the trip. The people I've had the privilege of serving with the last six weeks are some of the most incredible human beings in the world, and I promised them I'd blog about them, so here we go. 

Side note: I'm writing this on the plane, so anything weird that inevitably happens will also be recorded.

Our team was comprised of 11 team members. Six girls and five boys. 

Interruption: I just watched the stewardess in a hula dancer apron wake up a football player who had sprawled out into the aisle. He's mad. 

Back to the team. To protect the innocent I won't use any real names. You know who you are. 

The boys:

Z-Dawg is my twin. It's not really that we look alike or act alike, but we both hate bananas and tomatoes and have dark hair. Somehow, that was enough to convince the junior campers that we are twins. I'm five minutes older.

The Exercise Guys like to workout. They're very good at playing the games at camp, which might be why their team won most of the games. The girls worked out for about two days before giving up on an exercise program called "Guns, Buns, and Abs," so we admire their dedication. 

Lebron wins the most popular male counselor award. A high percentage of female campers had a crush on him, and the guys called him Lebron. He tried to teach me how to do a backflip. Needless to say, I was unable to do it.

Shaggy was also given his nickname by the campers. This was his third summer at camp, so he knew what he was doing and told us what to do. We obeyed because he drove the truck and we had to be nice if we wanted him to take us to get frozen yogurt. We also obeyed because no one else had a clue what was going on.

My homegirls:

There's always a mother of the group, and ours was pretty cool. She always had everything anyone needed, she always knew the answers to my questions, she tucked us in at night, and she glares if you wake her up too early. 

We all liked cheering for our team, but no one loved it as much as the Queen of the Ninjas. I'm glad someone knew the cheers!

Interruption: There's still sand in my hair.

The Northern Belle and I are almost totally opposite. I didn't realize exactly how southern I am until I met her. She doesn't like hugs, so I know when she hugged me* goodbye it meant a lot. We roomed together the first week of camp, and some of my favorite memories are making eye contact from our bunks across the room when our campers talked about all their hair problems.

*I hugged her and she didnt push me away.

The Nurse saved my life on multiple occasions. Well, not really, but when my hypochondriac side got the better of me, she assured me that I was just fine. I would have done anything she said, but she never led me astray. She had the uncanny ability to know what I wanted to eat before I did, and survived a near death experience (aka skit night) like a trooper. 

Last, but certainly not least, Birdface. Bird and I are a lot alike. Imagine me in two years and blonde and from North Carolina. She mocked me the most, and I mocked her the most, and we got along brilliantly. She thinks she does a good imitation of my voice, and I let her think that.

I love these guys SO much. They put up with me for six weeks. They know me really well at this point. They don't understand my love of Vera Bradley and Quik Trip or my freakishly small hands, but they love me SO much too.  

This ones for you guys. Let's hope it gets a lot of hits.

The End?

I'm leaving Hawaii today. At some point I'll blog about camp last week and our last weekend here. I'll post pictures, too, and tell you about our team. They're pretty amazing.

God did some amazing things in my life during the last six weeks. I've been stretched until I thought I might break, but that's when I saw the strength of God. My patience has been tried, my love for others tested, and my total dependence on God revealed, and I'm so thankful. 

I'm thanking God, first, because He is first in all. His grace redeems my unholy moments and uses me for glory. 

Thank you to my parents for loving me and teaching me how to love. So many of my campers' relationships with their parents made me thankful all over again for my MumsiKim and Daddy. You are truly incredible.

Thank you to my friends, old and new. I've been blessed with lifelong adventure buddies who've supported me from day one. Literally. It's been our first summer apart, and that's just made me more grateful for all the time we've had together. I can't wait to hear about what our Great God taught you.

New friends, aka, the team: First, stop reading this aloud in your Margaret voice. I'm about to say nice things about you. Thank you for putting up with my weird sleep habits, my dietary restrictions, my hair...and its issues, my voice and the lack thereof, and my squeaky laugh. You all have been means of grace to me in ways you'll never fully understand. I'll miss your weird senses of humor and your love for life, Jesus, and each other. You've each taught me a lot, mostly good things;) We all got to hang out on his gorgeous island and learn how to love Jesus better. I'll never get over how cool that is.

God is good. That's all. Aloha.

I Am the Tooth Fairy

The last two weeks have been a crazy blur with a weekend of almost non-stop sleeping in between. Camp is exhausting, and besides waking up to visit the Pearl Harbor Memorial and Waikiki, we've basically spent the entirety of the weekend sleeping. All the girls, seven total, are staying in one big room at a local pastor's house. The minute we get back from camp on Friday afternoons our luggage goes in one pile, we go in another pile, and it's off to sleep.

With such tight living quarters on the weekends and living with eight year olds during the week it would be impossible for none of us to get sick, and in true Margaret fashion, I led the pack. I spent the entire teen week with no voice, little energy, and four cool girls who went with the flow. It was incredible to see God's strength in my weakness! I had never fully realized how proud I am until I didn't have a voice, but we serve a Great God who delights in using His broken children. Mostly whispering, I was able to talk to each of my campers about things they struggle with, and most importantly, hear their heart for Jesus and for reaching the lost. The messages were on being an authentic disciple of Jesus, something I can only do through the power of Jesus! 

Week ends, insert sleep here.

Zzzzzz.

Sleep ends, week begins.

Our second junior week was a little smaller. I had three campers, ages 8, 10, and 12. We laughed a lot and learned a lot. The junior campers become your best friend instantly, and they hang on your every word. It's nice. My girls asked a lot of questions about everything under the sun, screamed at my ghost stories, laughed at my jokes, and on Wednesday we all wore pink. Success. 

The highlight of the week, however, came in the early morning hours of Friday. The day before my eight year old camper lost a tooth.

So, in those dark hours of the morning, I bravely climbed up to her top bunk bed, carefully slid the little tooth out from under her pillow, and replaced it with money to spend at the Canteen. She didn't wake up.

I am the tooth fairy. And being the tooth fairy is being an adult. Success.

Week One

I'm a camp counselor.

Wow. I never thought I would say that. Never. But it's true. I even own a hot pink baseball cap. I lost my voice cheering, I'm covered in bug bites, and four little pieces of my heart belong to my four precious campers. 

This week I didn't sleep a lot. I ate crayfish caught only a few hours before, I won a belly flop contest, I gave more middle school relationship advice than I care to remember, I was pummeled with pillows, I ate spam, and I loved every single minute of it. 

The word "I" has already been in that post 15 times. That's the problem. Even my ministry is about me. There is no such thing as my ministry. This week was God's gift to me, and it's one I can never deserve.

The lessons God taught me this week are way longer than any blog post should ever be. I am so limited, but His limitless grace is always always, enough.  It is enough at 4:00 am when an 8-year-old wakes you up to play Pocket Pets. It is enough when two girls fight over friends. It is enough when you find a huge cockroach in the shower. It is enough when you get a stewed tomato and hot sauce pie in your face that stains your white shirt. 

My life in Christ is one undeserved gift after another, and this week was no exception. I laughed, I cried, and I absorbed the goodness of God. The messages focused first on redemption, then on growth. My girls weren't as open as I'd dreamed they would be. One on one time was hard, them distracted by bugs and boys and chocolate ice cream, and me distracted by myself and my selfishness.

My God is bigger than me. He is bigger than my pride, and He is bigger than my inabilities, and He was incredibly big this week. He worked in the lives of my girls in ways I would not have imagined. Campers found Jesus this week, and campers saw how amazingly fun serving Him is. Thursday night I listened to child after child tell their friends about their great Savior. I'm a cryer anyway, but when 10-year-old boys cry in front of a group of people when talking about the satisfaction Jesus makes, I'm a goner.

This week was hard. I'm emotionally and physically exhausted, and I caught some kind of bug that's landed me in bed all day. Please be in prayer for the health of all our team members this week. Getting sick isn't exactly in the schedule, and with seven girls in one room, the germs flow freely.

This week was hard, but hard is what my heart needs to grow. 

And So It Begins

Today's the day. Today's the day I'll set foot in my cabin and walk around the campsite. And tomorrow, my first batch of campers arrive.

I cannot wait.

I've spent the last two weeks training for this. We've snorkeled and paddle boarded (yes, even those were part of training) and been reminded of the immense love of Jesus. We've met a lot of the kids and their families, talked to the pastors who love and care for them, and learned how we can best explain grace to them. Tommorrow I'll find out how well I listened. 

Tomorrow I'm unplugging. No phone or Facebook or Instagram or Twitter or Skype: nothing. It's only till Friday, but it's looking like an eternity.

I'm excited.

I'm excited to focus. To totally devote my evergy to the 8-12 year old girls in my cabin. I'm excited to stop feeling pressure to record memories and actually  experience them. I'm excited to write good old fashion letters and record funny sayings in my notebook and flip the pages of a paper Bible.

Thank you for those who have been praying. Please, keep it up. Pray for my sweet girls and pray for their sinful counselor. She's gonna need it. 

If I've learned anything in life so far, it's that everything is an adventure, humor is everywhere, and all is grace. 

Hawaiian Hospitality

Hawaiian Hospitality

It's hard to believe that I've been here a week. My traveling nightmare seems like forever ago. I think that one day of traveling was longer than this whole week in Hawaii.

I've already learned a lot. I've learned that I don't like riding in the back of a pick up truck, I've learned that Spam can be used in more ways than you can imagine, I've learned that sunburns itch, I've learned that seven girls can live in one room and not kill each other (so far), and I've learned that the Hawaiian people are some of the most hospitable people in the world.

We've spent time with six pastors so far. We've visited churches, helped with Bible clubs, and attended training sessions win local pastors. We've gone to them, and they've come to us, and we've eaten a lot. Here's a breakdown of the food we've eaten.

Wednesday night: Pastor Rocky took us to a local Chinese restaurant. We parked in a back alley, and we were the only ones in the restaurant. The place was decorated in a combination Chinese/Christmas style. An adorable friend of the pastor cooked for us. We thought she had made us fried rice, which she had, so we politely gorged ourselves. The fried rice was good, although we're still not sure what was in it, but it wasn't alone. Fried rice was followed by beef and broccoli, chop suey, some tomato dish with a still unidentified meat, and battered shrimp. We thought we'd eaten a ton, but apparently not enough for the old lady, who sent us home with ten boxes of food.

Thursday: Pastor Estrella and his family had us over to play games, talk about camp, and of course, eat. Mrs. Estrella can sure cook, and once again, sent us back with leftovers. 

Over the weekend more pastors brought us dinner, several people took us out for ice cream, and Sunday night we had homemade pizza. You guessed it, there were leftovers.

Monday night we went out for Filipino food. Very local, and yummy. Lots of pork and more pork and a little more pork. And rice and pork.

So food is literally piling up. We've filled  refrigerators and the food keeps coming. Then, one refrigerator broke.

I'm sorry, sweet Chinese lady. Your food was great, but we just couldn't eat it all. 

You may have noticed that  I have 1) fallen behind and 2) skipped Tuesday. I don't really have an excuse for the first, but as for the second, Tuesday was one of those days that deserves a blog post all of it's own. 

Agnes

When you read about Hawaii or see TV shows set in Hawaii you see white beaches and green palm trees and pure blue water, and all that is true. We spent time at the beach yesterday, and it was absolutely beautiful. The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing, and I got burned to a crisp. Just as expected. 

But, today was different. Today I saw the raw, pure Hawaii. I saw pineapple fields and red clay and the most beautiful children. We traveled up the mountain to Poamoho to hang out with some kids at their Bible club. From the moment our white van pulled up the kids surrounded us, pulled us into their circle, and became our best friends. The kids were extraordinary, so full of life, so in need of love. They live in tiny, rotting houses, once occupied by their grandparents who worked in the Dole pineapple fields. They run wild, and somehow, through the providence of God, they have run into the care of Pastor Rocky and his wife. The time I spent with them has changed the way I see life and see love. 

This morning in staff training we focused on our knowledge of the love of God. In my life there is not room for pride and love. Today on that empty grass field I saw kids being loved with the selfless, pure, overflowingly generous love of Jesus. The pastors there have given up everything to serve. They are living breathing examples of what a cross-centered, Gospel driven life looks like.

I made a special friend tonight. Her name is Agnes, and she is amazing. She has a beautiful laugh, and I've never heard anyone sing "God is so Good" with so much enthusiasm. Because of her disabilities, Agnes has an even harder life than the other kids in her village, but because of the love the pastor and his wife have shown her, she has found true and lasting joy. She sat on the grass with me, braided my hair so we could be twins, and told me about her Jesus. Lord willing, I'll see Agnes at camp in a few weeks, and I can't wait.

My eyes were opened tonight, but the beautiful energy of the boys and girls wasn't what did it. After Bible club one of the missionaries sat down in the grass with my team and shared his burden for Hawaii. 

This place is so in need of Jesus, and for six short weeks, I get to be a part of the work. My God is so good to me. 

(Tomorrow I'll write about the sketchy Chinese restaurant we ate at. Oh my. Stay tuned.)

Here's the Thing About Airports, Part Two

Today hasn't gone as expected.

The above statement is the understatement of the century. 

But I should probably fill you in on my flight from Charlotte to Dallas. I was in a row with a honeymooning couple. There were three chairs, but only two were really used. I'll leave it at that.

Halfway through the flight the new wife got motion sick. She proceeded to throw up in her motion sickness bag, her new husband's, and then mine. This was after her very flustered new husband spilled water all over me. 

Throughout the flight I was keeping a close eye on the time. We left Charlotte very late, and there was crazy turbulence, so I knew I'd be cutting it close to make my connection. 

You are reading the blog of the possible world record holder for fastest sprint across the Dallas airport. The very nice hate agent told me that. After she closed the cabin door.

I have officially missed my first flight. I have also been to Los Angeles. The next flight to Honolulu was taking off from sunny California, so that's where I went. The flight was mercifully uneventful. There was an extra seat next to me, so I ignored the Kiera Knightley movie being shown, and slept. 

I'm minorly disappointed by the fact that I don't get a meal on the way to Hawaii, but I had a bag of chips and a bottle of Smart Water, which I couldn't open. I know. I wanted a hamburger, but my options consisted of a bar and a bakery. The LA airport is huge, and that is all they can offer me? 

This flight has been delayed too. It's not my day. I have no idea where my luggage is or what will happen when I arrive, but for now I'm content to watch a girl try to flirt with a boy who doesn't speak English. 

It's almost boarding time. I can't wait to be done with today. 

Here's the Thing About Airports, Part One

It's 10:11. I've been up since 6. Please consider this an excuse for any mechanical issues this post contains.

We got to the airport two hours early because we wanted to leave room for early morning work traffic. It's Memorial Day. As always, my time in the airport so far has been an adventure.

When will airlines ever learn to have more than one employee at the desk? That poor lady was in a heated discussion with three customers when we got in line. While she attempted to deal with a combination meltdown/midlife crisis, the line snaked around the desk and into the middle of the airport. The girl standing in front of the desk was in tears, the older last kept shaking her head in confusion, and the man with them kept saying, "Calm down. We are going to get home. We will get home." It seemed very heroic of him, but in the end the American Airline employee announced there was nothing she could do for them.

Thankfully the Stegalls were there in ample time. I checked my bag, went through security, and found my terminal. 

My flight has been delayed. I'm waiting for it now. Apparently there is a part missing and "the mechanic assures us it is a quick fix." (The stewardess has said this probably 34 times in the few minutes I've been here.) I'm a little worried about my connection in Dallas, although she assures us we will be on our way soon.

It's crazy busy in the terminal, and there aren't many seats available. I found one, but as I sat down, an older lady said to me, and I quote, "Ma'am, those seats are taken. They're for my two sisters. You can't see them because they're invisible."

I've always said I am a weird people magnet. 

I rest my case.

A New Adventure

It's been awhile. I know. Glad we got that over with.

This blog was created to chronicle a trip I took to Vienna two years ago, and it served its purpose well. I had great intentions of keeping up with it after I got back, which I did for a little while, but life happened, and in the long list of things to do, Life Out Loud got put way, way back on the burner. But, I'm traveling again! I figured it was time to dust the ole blog off and try this again. 

I'm leaving in the wee early hours of tomorrow morning for Hawaii! I'll be working (yes, cynical people, working) at Camp Kupono in Waianae Valley, Hawaii. I'll be counseling junior and teen campers, as well as visiting churches. God has so clearly opened this door, and I can't wait to see what He has to teach me. 

Provided I don't get scared to death by a rodent in my cabin or drown in the ocean (and let's face it: either could happen to me) I'll be back in G-Vegas on July 10. Until then it's beaches, sunscreen, and lots of middle school girl drama. I can't wait.

Here's the camp's address, for those of you (Grandma) who want it. 

92-1042 Kanehoa Loop, Kapolei HI 96707

You can also find out more about the ministry at campkupono.org.

Keep me in your prayers, and I can't wait to share my adventures!

A Few Thoughts on Bounce Houses

As I write this post, I am sitting in a bounce house. No, don't worry, I'm not bouncing while writing. I am sitting in the parent observation section in the middle of the room, surrounded by bouncing plastic monstrosities.

Not sure how I feel about being considered a parent, although I don't mind being considered the responsible adult.

The lady I babysit for had some free visits, and it was too cold to play outside, so we bundled up and came here.

The door opened and I my eyes beheld a massive explosion of color and chaos.

We arrived just as the place opened. And when I say we, I mean the entire elementary school population of greater Greenville. And their parents. Or responsible adult.

The kids stowed their shoes in the little cubbies and ran into this magical plastic world, squealing with delight.

I sat down and began to observe.

The majority of children here are ages 4-7, although you are allowed to bounce until you are 10. There are a few ten year olds who are trying to pretend that they don't still love it here, and a few babies playing with toys on the floor, but most of the young patrons are running, frantic to get rid of all the post-school-pre-Christmas energy. Some are here for birthday parties, but most are here because their mother needed to get them out of the house.

Speaking of the mothers.

They are all tired. They sit on the plastic chairs, watching their children, drinking Diet Coke, and reading romance novels.

One is crying. She must be at a good part. UPDATE: I just got a look at her book. It is called "Finding the Dream." I'm sure it's a real thriller.

There are a few sets of grandparents reliving their childhood through their grandkids.

There is one middle aged couple holding hands and standing right next to their child, watching his every move.

I see one poor teenaged boy, probably dragged here by his mother, sitting alone and watching some basketball game on TV.

No, I don't know who's playing. I'm only 86% sure I got the right sport.

I don't know why, but I get the feeling that the most exciting thing any of these parents has done recently is sneaking in their own snacks, right past the college guy in a referee shirt at the front desk. Now that is what I call real skill.

Ok, I just had a mom ask me how old my kids are. I may need to get in the bounce house after all.

Remember, Remember the First of December

My family has many holiday traditions, starting with what we like to call, "December First"

We typically like to hold this occasion on December 1st.

You would think that with the high percentage of English teachers that make up the Yost/Stegall/ Hubbard clan that we would have come up with something more original by now. Unfortunately, we have not.

(We also like to call our weekly Sunday evening gathering, "Sunday Night." Go figure.)

Anyway, we have a party every year on the first of December. This annual tradition was started by my mother, aunt, and grandparents long before I was even thought of.

I don't think I'm supposed to end sentences with, "of." Oh well. All's fair in love and blogging.

The originally mission of December First was simple. Give each other gifts that can be used in the weeks preceding Christmas. I suppose my ancestors were tired of receiving holiday-esque gifts on Christmas day only to have to wait an entire year before putting them to use. Or they just liked having another excuse to spread Christmas cheer. Besides singing loud and clear, of course. Either way, our annual holiday kick-off celebration was begun.

I just love it when I am able to use sports in a semi-intelligible way.

For the past sixteen Christmases I have started off the season with my family's party. We have dinner, usually the last of the turkey made into my grandmother's amazing soup and cranberry Wensleydale cheese, open gifts, and then eat the Yost/Stegall/Hubbard TOP SECRET RECIPE Christmas Cranberry Cake.

It's so good I wish I could give you the recipe. But it's also so secret that I don't know it.

But this year, all that changed! Well, only one part of it changed, but when have I not been overly dramatic? No sense starting now!

This year we all kinda agreed that we had been given so, so much, and it was high time we shared with others. So instead of starting out the evening eating, we all met at Wally World to buy Christmas gifts for the ladies and gentlemen living in Miracle Hill facilities. The entire clan spread out all over the stores to fill shopping carts full of toys and soap and clothes and jewelry and balls and notebooks and just about anything else imaginable!

Yes, we got some strange, strange looks.

It was so great. Not the strange looks, I mean. but the whole shopping endeavor. Just wonderful. I am so incredibly blessed with absolutely everything I need, but there are so many people in my little Baptist, Republican, Southern community who aren't. And giving to them, especially around this happy season, was the best gift I could have received.

We Are Blessed

Today is Thanksgiving Day. Everything stands still and we eat.

And eat.

And eat.

I was in Tennessee for the holiday meal. My aunt and uncle live near Nashville, and my grandparents came down and we all ate dinner together. This was an unusual dinner for us, though. We ate out for dinner. My wonderful aunt found a restaurant called Monell's and we all headed over to eat. No prep, no clean-up, just food.

It was just great. Monell knows how to bake a turkey. Or cook or roast or grill or whatever one does to a turkey.

Here's the thing, though. We ate family style. As, expected, right? It's the family holiday and we ate as a family. In South Carolina, that's what family style is. Not in Tennessee, though.

Let me enlighten you. In Tennessee, family style means you eat with other families. You all sit around one big table and eat and talk and eat and get to know each other. And eat.

Now, at first I was skeptical. I know, big surprise. But it was nice. A good reminder of the big, beautiful, blessed world we live in that doesn't revolve around us.

And a new definition of family.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.

I'm A Tweeter

THIS IS AN IMPORTANT NEWS FLASH. I am on twitter. I am a tweeter. I tweet. Whatever the cool lingo these days is.

My name is @margaretmaus.  Feel free to follow. I currently have one.

Be warned, however! I don't really tweet. I just read nerdy things like Jane Austen and Shakespeare and interesting museum facts. So don't get your hopes up:) But I'm active on social media. It's a big day.