I Dropped Out of Jesus Camp

I went on a women's church retreat this weekend. I used to take pride in the fact that I was up for anything and enjoyed camping and the outdoors. It’s funny how things have changed since I’ve gotten older.
I don't really find sharing a bunkhouse and two toilets with thirteen other women in any way relaxing or spiritually fulfilling. Add to that a cold shower, some feisty ticks, no sleep, and a bird pooping on my book in the woods, and it's a recipe for me to head home early. I tried to go with an open mind. I love the women in my church. Perhaps it would have been easier for me if we had had a cabin to ourselves. But we ended up sharing it with total strangers. I never sleep well in strange places. In an effort to take advantage of our free time, I tried napping during the afternoon. That plan was quickly put by the wayside as every three minutes someone walked through the cabin door and slammed it shut. I usually consider myself pretty easygoing, but when sleep deprivation sets in, I get cranky.
I think sometimes we all need a bit of a reality check to remind us to appreciate the little things that we take for granted. I know I sound dramatic and I don’t mean to because this camp experience wasn’t all that bad. I found the descriptions of the global mission work fascinating, the food good, the workshop I attended interesting and there were quite a few times when I laughed harder than I have in a long time. But I sure appreciated coming home to my family, a hot shower, a comfortable bed, and a quiet house.