 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
REFLECTIONS FROM KOREAN HERITAGE CAMP
Well, here I am, back in “real life” after camp and I find myself adjusting better to it than in years past. I think it must really help to have Tim and my wonderful little Gracie to come home to. I guess they both fill somewhat of the void and longing that my heart has always felt, which seemed to only be more magnified at camp in years past. As I was driving down from the mountain, I realized why I love camp so much. I finally have a comfortable place where I fit in. I am “an equal” with everyone because we are all starting from the same point in life. I don't have to pretend, I don't have to adjust, I can just “BE.” What a miraculous and wonderful blessing to have a place like this and to be a part of this. I cherish every sleep-deprived moment and long for the next 12 months later.
I am always anxious to get my thoughts down on paper after camp and see what part of my soul or revelation is revealed. There are so many emotions at camp that it is hard to sort them out and make sense of it all. I finally feel this freedom that I can express my emotions at camp, and find that the strangest things touch me so deeply beyond words. I remember a father taking a photograph of two little Korean girls in their hanboks, with their heads touching, arms wrapped around each other, and grinning from ear to ear. I thought they had been lifelong friends or were sisters, but the father commented that they had just met up at camp this year. The emotion overwhelmed me of how lucky these two little girls were to have found each other, and the profound respect and gratitude I felt for the people who work so hard to make this camp possible. I think I felt envious that these little girls had someone just like them at such a young age. What a blessing.
I love how simply a squeeze of a hand or pat on the back between two adoptees can express such mutual understanding. I sat at closing ceremonies and as I wept, Elisabeth extended her hand to me which I held on to, I had my other hand on Suzanne's back, and I rested my head on Sarah's shoulder. No words needed to be spoken. All understanding was expressed through human touch and choked back tears. The pain and the lost that we share transcends all our other differences. It is the glue that binds us and makes us stronger. It is my prayer that we all never forget the pain and lost, but we are able to find a greater joy and peace than most in the world because of that pain. I have found it. I find it in my husband's touch and my daughter's laugh. I know that God has given me what I've always looked for and needed, and all I had to do was ask.
