Consider the Lilies

In high school, my church partnered with an organization called Royal Family Kids Camp. They put on a one week summer camp every year for foster kids in the area. Picture it, a hundred abused and neglected kids being treated like royalty for one week every summer. Beautiful is an understatement. We looked forward to it all year long, as I’m sure the campers did as well. I worked one year in the craft room, which was fun and lighthearted without any real responsibility. But that next year, less than a week after graduating high school, it was time for the big leagues. Counselor. You had to be 18 to be a counselor, me and all my friends had been waiting for this for what felt like forever. It was going to be so much fun. Our campers would love us and feel loved by us and everything would be easy, breezy, beautiful. Oh, the sweet sweet naivety. 

I was placed with a cabin full of 9 (going on 16) year olds. They were rough. They had lived through awful things I could never even imagine, they had every right to be. They fought with each other every couple minutes, whether with words or fists. They hit and kicked and spit on me often. I tried to see them through Jesus’ eyes and grew a solid relationship with each one. But again, they were rough. All except for one girl, Annie (not her real name cause HIPPA or something). Annie was upbeat, lively, and fun. She tried so hard to be a peacekeeper amongst the other girls. She always chose to sit with whoever was being left out that day and gave everything she had to make them feel better. She stuck by my side most of the week and we were two peas. While the other two counselors were breaking up fist fights, me and Annie would be racing to the tree or talking about her favorite animals or her family. Not my finest counselor move, but hey, I was 18 and had no idea how to handle conflict. 

Anyways, she loved talking about her family, her mom specifically. She had a photo of her mom pregnant with her in her suitcase. Any time we were in the cabin, she would take it out and show everyone. “Isn’t she pretty?”, she would ask daily. “Look how happy she is, it’s cause she already loved me” I would hear from the other room at least 3 times a day. Then she’d be told to put it away, because some of the other girls were not lucky enough to still have their mothers and it could be hard for them to see that. Then it hit me, of course she was the most well-behaved, she had a good life. She hadn’t seen the horrors that these other girls had causing them to act out.

Fast forward to Thursday. Thursday night is the hardest for any counselor. It’s the last night, the night that the campers start remembering the awful things that they have to go back to the next morning. There is a campfire where each camper is asked to write down 3 things. Something along the lines of, “What is one thing you don’t like about your life? What is one thing you want to change about your life? What is one thing you want for your future? ” Needless to say, emotions are everywhere on campfire night. There’s crying and worshipping and just a hint of anticipation knowing smores were to follow. But mainly crying. Some of the toughest campers finally show how bad things really are at home. The hard facade melts away and the fear is written all over their faces. It is truly heartbreaking. 

I had my arms around Annie and one other camper. Annie was working hard to give hope to the other campers as they cried. She seemed fine so I shifted my focus to the others who were clearly hurting. As she was comforting a friend, the other girl whispered, “But we have to go home tomorrow.” Something changed. It was as if it hadn’t hit her until right then. I looked over and saw Annie crying hysterically, gasping for breath in between sobs. I held her as she cried and her body was convulsing so hard that mine was visibly moving as well. I didn’t understand. Why was she sad, her life was good, she was one of the lucky ones? Maybe she was just really going to miss the endless dessert? Looking for answers, I glanced over at her paper. In one moment, I went from total confusion to absolute heartbreak. I was wrecked. 

What is one thing you don’t like about your life? : “I don’t want mommy to be on drugs anymore”

What is one thing you want to change about your life? : “I don’t want mommy’s boyfriends to hurt me anymore”

I don’t remember what she put for her last answer. I don’t know if I even read it. I didn’t need to. I grabbed her tighter and began to pray. She was such a ray of sunshine, I never could have imagined what she was wrestling with. As I was praying, her brother came over. She hugged him but he pushed her off. He said firmly, “What are you doing? Why are you crying?” She kept crying harder and saying how she didn’t want to go home. He simply repeated himself over and over, “Why are you crying, Annie? Stop crying.” At this point I was feeling a little protective and told him it was okay if she needed to cry. But he shook his head unphased and continued, “Annie, why are you crying? Stop crying. Don’t you know that God has a plan for us?” Through her tears, she looked up and nodded as he repeated that sentence a few more times. He had a reputation for being a tough kid, but something got through to him. He got it. What we had been trying to teach all week, he grasped it. He found hope. And he gave it to his sister. They hugged and she turned to me and said, “We’re gonna be okay, God has a plan, you know?” 

Only a day or two later, camp was over and everyone was home resting after what felt like the longest week of our lives. I’m in bed sleeping in when I get a call. My sister says, “Go downstairs, mom needs you, now.” She briefly told me about something awful that had happened in our family. I won’t get into it, but I knew it was going to be hard. I ran downstairs and my mom fell into my arms. I was scared of what this news would mean for the future and speechless at the sight of my mother so upset. I held her up as she cried, I didn’t know what to do. The only thing I could muster up to say was that simple phrase, “God has a plan”. She looked at me, nodded, and went about doing the dishes. I sat on the floor of the kitchen and told her this same story and we both had a sense of peace, the kind of peace that only comes from the full faith that God knows what He is doing. Most of the time that is a lot easier said than done, but every now and then it feels like the option is to either trust in His plan or crumble entirely. So, you take a deep breath and close your eyes and trust. In Him and His plan.

This has been a theme since that night. When things were hectic with my family, I clung to that phrase. When I was sick and no one could tell me what was wrong, I held on to it even tighter. When I lost family members, had to leave college, got a scary diagnosis, or had nowhere to live; every time it still rang true. Every time I got scared I would remember that if these two children who had seen the worst that the world has to offer could trust that the Lord was working all things out, I could too. 

So in case you are wondering if I am scared about fundraising or traveling during Covid or going into some pretty sketchy areas, of course I am. It’s okay to be scared. But the Lord created this plan before I was born, who am I to question it? I heard somewhere that faith is bigger than fear, and I have full faith in His plan. His plan and His timing are perfect, they always have been and they always will be. He has proved that time and time again. Thank You, Lord, that Your plan is good and sovereign and unchangeable, just like You. 

-K