Okay, so here’s the thing. It has been nearly half a year since I lasted put out an actual blog post. I have lived so much life since then, it’s actually crazy. I’m sitting here comparing my life in May to my life Today and it’s actually staggering. Some things are exactly as always, while others are totally different. In the last six months I have meant to post a lot. So many ideas have come to mind, so many words I want to share. And yet this post isn’t any of those. It’s not a call to action, it’s not a lesson. No, this post is simply a random look into my mind on the evening of Nov 1, 2025 as I sat on Sky Ranch Torpedo Dock under the stars. Completely alone, just me and Jesus in the quiet of night as the wind moves the lake and the clouds dance, intermingled with the stars.
To set the stage…. It was a small-scale retreat this weekend. Only two hours of work running activities (I was at the lake on Canoes). I worked with some amazing people and got to re-connect with people I haven’t seen since Summer. After we ate dinner, a friend and I got DQ in town. And then I alone came back to camp. Everyone else drove home tonight leaving me all to myself to wander and marvel at God’s Creation throughout the campus.
After running into a counselor from the last two summers and determining that there was no more high-school worship sessions for the night I headed down to my favorite spot on campus. Torp Dock. I’ve always loved it, ever since my first summer it has been my go-to spot, whether with friends or by myself.
So through the dark I walked, watching the sun disappear behind the trees, until at last I was there. Under the brightest of stars. Cue the worship music, and I’m convinced few other scenes in life will ever seem so perfect. So awe-filled. As I lay flat on back on a wood dock staring up at the sky. Wrapped in the cool blanket of the autumn night, and the warmth of my Savior’s presence. I began to think, and eventually put pen to paper.
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I have always marveled at the beauty of the world we live in, but there’s something about this place that always hits different and makes me appreciate it even more.
When I’m here I slow down. I’m outside. I’m distraction free. I’m with people who build me up and point me back. When I’m here I’m at peace. Full of joy.
There are no words for the wonder that takes hold the moment you’re through those gates. The world feels lighter, like you can breathe a little easier and smile a little wider.
Summers here are amazing and life changing, a constant GO GO GO that I love and crave. But it’s retreat season, these quieter nights, that always take me by surprise. Watching the place you know so well over summer change in the off season, the same way we do.
The trees are the same ones I’ve passed all summer, sturdy and strong and full of my squirrel friends. And yet they’re different: the leaves are burnt and falling with the arrival of autumn. The lake is the same deep down, but on the surface it looks different. Activities are put away for winter leaving a sparser surface. Cabins are the same buildings, same frame work. But now with some added embellishments. Some come equipped with bedding and towels, carpets and art on the walls. The bones are the same, furnishings different.
All of this is the same of me. At my core I am the same, in season or out. I like the same things, I act the same way, everything that is fundamental about me is exactly as it was. And yet I’m growing: changing. We all are. We re-enter the real world, back to school and work.
I’m the same me, but I look different: makeup (minimal as it is, you’re girl is not a cosmetologist) once again becomes part of the morning routine, nice clothes come back into rotation, my hair gets done instead of just thrown up in a messy bun.
I’m no different from the trees: the same at my roots, but changing still. Meeting new people, making new friends, learning new jokes, weighed down by different circumstances.
Which is why it’s so nice to come back. To let all the noise that happens on the other side of those gates to continue and to truly come and BE STILL. To see the people I’ve missed since summer, to catch up on what’s been going on. To reminisce and be together. To have a night all to me; one to spend out on the dock over the water, under the stars. A night to rest amidst the chaos of life. A night to marvel. A night to sing.
If the stars up there were made to worship,
Then so will I.