One day I will write a book. It will pour out like a summer storm with thunder and volume of water.
But for now, slowly I am staring to process what happened at the camp. I translated 6-8 hours a day, and I wish that everything that was filtered so carefully through my brain would have remained in higher proportions there. Some of it did. Stored neatly, only to resurface at the perfect time. Good insights. Powerful truths. Effective and efficient tools.
This morning I got together with Carmen, Coco and Anca. Diana had a very busy weekend and missed the first meeting. But we started. Decided to struck the iron while it’s hot. We set expectations and we will be sharing our stories through psalms. And this morning we did a Lectio Divina on Psalm 91. Sharon and Sue would be proud. And Brian too.
We have all been struck in the vulnerable spots, by the realities of this fallen world, each of us in a very personal way. No matter how much you brace yourself, it’s never easy after you return from such a rich camp.
As we were trying to decide what we will do with the psalms, we reminisced about Gilboa, about David mourning his beloved Jonathan, and how through poetry he went back in time an re-lived a lost moment, bringing God into that moment. And heal.
Last night I was sharing with my parents a glimpse of how Brian ministered to the men, leading by example, serving. Brian lived joyously thoughout the entire camp, cried with people, brought healing with his gentle words, communion and teary, piercing blue eyes. At the same time he spoke boldly with God through prayer.
Brian did the dishes, served the tables, then his team members served as well, then the romanian men followed suit. I have never seen some of them joyously serve like that before. I even asked one of the guys, and he said Brian’s attitude, eagerness and humble heart are contagious. And this is how Brian’s teaching has added weight.