Saturday July 26
Chris Tomlin is doing an early worship set, so for the first time ever, I make my way down to the concert site before noon. My yard is littered with sleeping teens. Thoughtfully I sneak past them.
Before I face the other parents, I’m hoping to spend some time by myself.
Last year’s Creation experience was so different. My assortment of kids was younger. We knew no one. We camped in the outback, where there was more room between campsites. My word was law, but then, there were no issues. We all went to bed at the same time. We all got up at the same time. My ability to lead was never tested, questioned or saluted. There were some benefits to being independent and un-accountable. Embarrassment and shame were emotions I didn’t feel at Creation ‘02.
“Jane, are ya headin down?” Tracey calls out.
“Yeah. I love his song, “Forever”. Think I’ll take in this morning’s worship time.”
“Wait. Sandra and I will join you.”
Oh.
Guess I’ll be dealing with last night’s situation before I eat. Or pee.
Glad I brushed my teeth.
“So, did you hear what happened last night?” Sandra asks.
“Yeah. I’m so sorry about that. I’m really embarrassed. I didn’t know how to quieten them down.”
“It did take awhile for your group to settle, didn’t it? No, I was talking about our girls. Kaitlynn and Victoria didn’t get back to our campsite til 4:30 this morning. Victoria’s mom woke us up at 2:30, worried sick. She’s so upset, they’re packing up right now to go home.”
What??? Victoria is here with her mom and dad and brother. Those two parents had trouble establishing a bedtime curfew for her? Maybe I’m not such a loser after all, considering the child/adult ratio at my place.
“I wasn’t thrilled with Kaitlynn staying out so late, but I’m not as angry. She went to visit friends in another youth group. I wouldn’t normally let her stay out that late at home, but this is a pretty safe place to be…” Sandra explains.
Relief pumps through my veins. My kids chose to stay right in our yard. Where I could see and hear all they did. They didn’t leave. Maybe staying up late is part of the Creation experience for teens? They definitely were too loud, but really, they weren’t “bad”…
“I was humiliated when Brian came to say “enough”…”
“Why? It’s a good thing he did. Sometimes that’s all it takes. You just need another adult to step in and lay down the law…I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Thank you God for Sandra and Tracey. I guess I didn’t need any more time to myself after all.
At the amphitheatre I spread my two blankets out on the pavement. (This saves our place for the evening concerts.) Sandra spreads out hers as well and then sits on her low rise beach chair behind them. Tracey sits right beside her. I sit about 12 spots away on a metal folding chair, behind my blankets. Al Neufeld joins us and stretches out on one of the blankets. Looks like it will just be the 4 of us this session. Near the end of Chris Tomlin’s set, he sings a song that has to do with dancing in the river. He encourages us to grab hands and dance and sing together.
I’m Mennonite. It’s morning. I’ll pass.
Al stands up, walks across the blankets and takes my right hand. Tracey hikes past a dozen empty chairs and slips her hand in mine. Sandra is on her other side. Pentacostal singing angels surround me. (These women are on a worship team at Calvary Christian, Al is in CLA’s choir.) I bounce and kick in time with them, but do not sing. I am being serenaded and know enough to shut up and enjoy.
When I get back to my RV, I see that the boys are up. And they have visitors. Their music is back on and our site is a mess of sleeping bags, food wrappers, pop cans and discarded clothing. Feeling like an uninvited intruder, I bypass their party and backtrack to the Steltings yard. I apologize to Brian and to the folks who sleep in the tent separating my yard from the Stelting/R/N patio. They are packing up early; lack of sleep and constant “teen” noise is getting to them. I feel terrible and express regret again.
Humbled, I re-enter my patch of grass, step over sprawled out teens, and move into the motor home. Drew is sitting at the table with a walkie talkie. I only hear his side of the conversation as he talks with a girl:
“From Canada.”
“Want to meet?”
“At the front gate.”
“I’m 16.”
Sigh. I’m going to be so old by the time he becomes a real teen.
I’m feeling drained. This festival is about so much more than just the music. It’s about community. And relationships.
Last year was good. Obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t have come back. But even though it was lonely for me, it was easier for me. So many people to consider this time.
I’m glad I’m not the only single adult here. That still intimidates me… somehow can’t get past feeling like a third wheel when I’m hanging with marrieds. But with Al, Brian and Kevin here without their wives, and Tracey here without her husband, my “singleness’ doesn’t seem so blatant.
Thank you God, for this assortment of people. You had a purpose in mind when You arranged for us to meet. Bless the relationships, both teen and adult that are forming this week.
The girls hit the shower trailer, so the guys disburse as well. Drew finds Doug (the lone guy in Panorama gang) and plays with him. Thinking I’ve got a few minutes on my own, I find a mirror and tweezers and attend to the chin hairs on my face.
“What are you doing?” Drew asks as he quietly watches me pluck.
“Uhh huh uh” I reply
He moves in closer. “Does it hurt?”
“Hmm mmh”
“What happened? Are those prickles?”
He brings his face in so close to mine, our noses touch.
“How did you get so many slivers there?”
I start to laugh.
He looks me square in the eyes and smiles. “What?”
“I love you.”
“I know. But what happened? How did you get all those? Oh, wait, here give me the tweezers, you missed one.” He grabs the tweezers and starts to tug at a chin hair. “Man, they’re stuck in there. Whoa! Look at all the ones you missed down here.”
I roll over laughing and he falls into me, joining in.
He has just had an extreme close up look at my face and wasn’t grossed out. He touched my face and didn’t pull his hand away in disgust. He loves me.
Oh God. Thank you for this boy. He is wonderful. Innocent and pure. His brown eyes are warm and beautiful. Thank you that I get to be his mom. Thank you that he is here with me on this trip. Thank you that he still holds hands with me as we walk together. Thank you that he is cuddly. Thank you for the sense of touch. Help me to remember how powerful it is. God, thank you for quiet moments like these.
Show me how to handle the older boys this afternoon. Give me wisdom.
Hallelujah. Some non-offensive music is finally blaring from our boom box. The guys have bought a few new Christian CD’s. But the girls are down to wearing bikini’s.
Al and Brian decide to take their sons (who have been at the festival site most of the afternoon) to the river.
Sandra offers me the keys to their pick up. I accept immediately.
“Come on guys. Let’s get going. We’re borrowing Rick’s truck, and heading to the river with the others.”
“Can we bring the girls along?”
“NO.” “I mean, sorry, no. We don’t have enough room.”
“We’ll just sit in the back, kay?”
“Nope. No tailgate. Hurry, we gotta go.”
Rick’s truck has a sweet sound system in it. “Boys of Summer” pounding out through the subwoofer, with the windows rolled down… man. Life doesn’t get any better. Eight of us squeezed in there, enjoying life to the fullest.
Me again. Thank you God. This is just right. Absolutely perfect. I love these guys. All of them. I love driving this truck. The Gorge is so stunningly beautiful. Thank you for creating this. Thank you that I can experience this with my kids.
Hours later, we’re at the evening concerts. All of us. 6 families and a youth group. It’s the last night. We’re sharing blankets, chairs, food and floor space. So very different than last year when I sat on the hillside with my little family. I enjoyed watching from a distance with Max beside me and Drew on top of me…but I was aware of the folks around me, and how they were experiencing the festival. One memory from ’02 was during a rockin’ evening set. A group of teens, some parents and a few youth sponsors in front of us were dancing and striking poses. They clearly were filled with joy and it bursting out all over. Sitting beside me, slightly higher up the hill, were three mature single women. They enjoyed the antics of the bubbly group and asked them if they could take their pictures afterwards.
“Take delight in the Lord, and He will give you your heart’s desires.”
Yes, I guess I desired that same sense of community for my kids.
Didn’t think that I needed it for myself, though. What did I know?
Our final evening was crammed with dancing, laughing, moshing, singing, clapping, waving, posing, bouncing and crashing. My kids were surrounded by adults, both male and female shaking their booties. Rick grooved to the tunes. Kevin did a folksy “swing your partner” type move. The older boys rocked. Some girls jived. We were a part of a posse that praised and worshipped with swaying hands and jumping feet.
And when we were done, the ladies sitting behind us said to me, “We feel we should pay your boys an entertainment fee. We have loved watching them.”
Déjà vu.
… He will give you your heart’s desires…
...even if you yourself don't even know what those desires are.
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