Here at Turkey Hill Bible Camp, finding internet is like finding a burning bush on the North Pole, it just ain’t happening. 

Last weekend I didn’t even have time to post a single jot or tiddle on simplefollower.  Making up for it now by posting twice in one fell swoop.  Impressive, I know.

So here I be at McDonald’s in Jeff City again, my standard portal into the interwebuhshphere.  Camp ended early this week: Friday instead of Saturday.  That’s because this past week was the final Youth camp of the summer and an extra day is given for cleaning up the facilities before Family Camps begin.

I didn’t counsel last week but instead was on, “Grounds Crew.”  We worked on making a new trail down to the lake and other such illustrious activities like weed-wacking, cleaning bathrooms, and raking leaves.

The best part of last week was the staff Bible study sessions.  We spent an hour each morning and an hour each afternoon in the Word.  We used various study techniques like summarizing (we summarized the book of Ephesians), looking at structure (looked at Revelation chapters 2 & 3), examining key words (John 15), and word studies (so do you know the difference between reprove and rebuke? or do you know what the word “Saved” really means?).  It was fun and I learned some things.

Being at camp these past three weeks has been a big spiritual recharge for me.  Mainly because I’m in the Bible so much, and around others who are like-minded.

I haven’t done much other reading, unfortunately.  I’m currently wading through a History of Haiti, which is fascinating.  The history of Haiti is more complex (and bloody) than I realized. 

The only book I’ve finished so far at camp has been Grandpa Jack’s, From Tarshish to Ninevah.  I’d link to Amazon, but don’t think he has it up there yet.  I enjoyed his stories and especially hearing about his faith in writing.  It got me thinking about my legacy of faith and how, in a roundabout way, it had an inauspicious beginning many years ago with a farmer sharing his faith with Grandpa.  I even mentioned that story (and the book) in a staff devotional I led one morning last week.

Let’s see, what else can I write about?  The news.  Well, my knowledge of current events and news is dismal.  Someone mentioned a shooting in Colorado and I assumed they meant Columbine, but then later realized there must have been a more recent calamity. 

I am, however, not in such a bat-cave as to not know that a new batman flick just premiered: The Dark Knight Rises, or some such.  However, I have no interest in watching it, because I don’t like batman, and it looks like a dark movie. 

In other news, I’m being asked (often) what I’m going to do next.  I have some ideas, but they don’t make sense (to others), and perhaps not entirely to myself either. 

I took comfort in John McHoul’s latest post about our lives being Living Sacrifices.  He said, among other things, something may be wrong when our lives make sense.  You have to read the whole artivle to get his context, but the gist was that our lives are in God’s hands, and they’re meant to be given up for Him, which means they likely will not look like the “status-quo” deal. 

Ok, I’d love to hear from you.  You being “anyone” who actually reads this, those few and far between people (like my Mom). 

I’ve only been checking my e-mail once a week, and hardly using the interwebs at all, which you would think would make checking my mail an exciting event as I get the fun of reading an entire weeks worth of personal letters in one sitting, but there’s a funny phenomena that happens when you don’t write other people: nobody writes you!  So my inbox is largely empty. 

Luckily, one person sent me a regular letter at camp, which bolstered my spirits.  And I hear on the grapevine my niece Kailee also sent me a bonafide letter, which unfortunately got detained in the mail, though I took comfort from her thoughtfulness, and even wrote her back, which was tricky since I didn’t know what important things she had written me about.

Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, I should be here two more weeks.

My address is:

Nick Middleton
c/o THRBC
13489 Maires Rd. 301
Vienna, MO 65582

Two weeks ago (July 15-21) I was one of four leaders on a week-long Current River canoe trip with fifteen teenagers. 

Here are a few pictures:

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A highlight was the time I spent up late talking with different guys.  One night until 2am!

When I was a kid (8?) I went on a week long father-son Current River trip led by Tom Richardson.  The strongest memories I have of that trip are sleeping on gravel bars and poking my feet on rocks all day because I forgot to bring my water socks (which mom had just bought for me the day before I left).  My whole life I’ve felt awful I forgot those brand new water socks on that particular campout (where we all got “Tip-A-Canoe” T-Shirts).  Never was there a campout on which they were more needful.

On this trip I was careful to not repeat history, and carefully packed away my “crocs.”  For those who don’t know, I’ve been wearing my trusty crocs nearly continuously for about three months now.  Even to such places as church (when I was overseas and didn’t have anything else) and while doing such jobs as construction work (like pickaxing through rock), mechanical work, and plenty of hiking.  Crocs truly are versatile, working well for nothing, but getting by for everything.  The best part is not having to wear socks anymore.

Remembering the aches put on my 8-year old back by sleeping on gravel bars, this time I packed not one, but TWO sleeping pads for my resting enjoyment.  They worked well, and I slept like a dead man, just like I do back home.  Which I’m not sure where home is anymore, as I guess I’m technically homeless. 

The funniest thing I saw on the river was a certain man (hillbilly?) doing a back flip off the top of a tall bluff (30 feet?).  This fellow was wearing bib overalls (with no shirt) and appeared to be “under the influence”, that is, at least before he jumped.  In my opinion he had enough height to do four somersaults, but instead did about 3/4 of one of them, and landed with a perfect belly-buster!  Haha, it was so funny.  Based on his swearing when he came up, I assume the impact sobered him.  At first I wondered if all his organs were ok, but guess they were, probably saved by his jean coveralls.

The scariest thing I did was swimming back in this cave-room place in the dark in a spring where the water was bitterly cold.  For the next half hour of canoeing afterwards (in 100 degree heat) I was shivering.

None of the kids got hurt, though one ate a minnow.  Some kids dared him, and he was about to do it when I walked up, and then he didn’t think I’d let him, but I told him it would probably be fine to eat the minnow, so he did, and, like I suspected, didn’t seem worse for wear afterwards. 

Spiritually, I think it was good for everyone.  We spent time studying the Bible and each of us leaders shared our testimonies and led at least one devotional time.  It was neat seeing certain ones attitudes improving as they were challenged by things they were learning.

The last couple days you could really tell the fellows were missing civilization.  I had a number of them start telling me things like, “I miss my bed, I miss my iPhone, I miss my TV, I miss the internet, I miss my Mom.”

I think being unplugged was good for them and they didn’t get much sympathy from me.

So that’s my quick report of “Wilderness Week”!

So I don’t have time to write an update so I’m not going to.

Except to say Week 1 of camp went by quickly, and is now over.  And true to prediction, I am now officially sleep deprived and worn out.  But, it starts all over again tomorrow!

So I didn’t use e-mail or phone this whole past week.  Now I’m back in the land of the moderns in Jeff City, but only for a few hours before heading back to booney-ville.

I think everyone was inspired to seek God more through the course of this past week.  I know I was, at least. 

The counselor business was tiring: There were ups and downs, some stressful issues, some (slight) injuries, but fortunately for me, at least a well-behaved cabin.

Tons of fun was had, most the time.  Highlights for me include the laughter and humor I shared with guys in my cabin and also seeing hearts and attitudes soften throughout the week as a result of what they were hearing and thinking about.  It was a serious week.

Satan was busy, of course, starting with a lightning strike last Sunday, hitting a tree with several staff underneath, who fortunately were ok, though one had ringing in his ears.  Splinters of the tree were thrown up to 60’ away (I measured).  The bolt knocked out the camps PA system, which was never fixed and caused scheduling annoyances as a result.  Then a main water line broke which shut off water for most of one day. 

Moreover, at times I could almost see Satan picking away the “Word of God” seeds being sown.  But, Satan try his worst, there was still plenty of good done.

So tomorrow starts a week of Wilderness Camp, which I’m scheduled to be a leader on. 

Heads up for another brief update next weekend!

I remember more than one night lying in bed late, in the dark, except for a dull street-lamp filtering through cracks in my venetian blinds, feeling restless.  Getting up and going for long walks: padding round and round the nearby pond at my apartment with the spraying fountain in the middle.  This was about a year and a half ago.

Twas thinking, “I’m tired of here.  Maybe I should take a trip.  A big trip.  Maybe I could make more of a difference somewhere else.  Maybe there’s a hungry kid out there on the other side of the globe whom I could give a lunch to.  A kid that, if I stayed here, wouldn’t get lunch.  Or maybe I would be changed through having my horizons stretched in a wild cross-cultural experience.  Maybe I would see reality clearer.  Maybe I would see something interesting, at least.  Maybe I would see God!  Maybe it would be good for me, or perhaps something good would come from it, anyhow.”

In any extent, I had too many greenbacks burning holes in my pocket to get excited about continuing working a job I was ambivalent towards at best, and downright weary of at worst.

One night I mustered resolve, packed my car with a sleeping bag and several cans of beans and hit the road, but got sleepy in Western Kansas and pulled over in a field to rest.  Next morning I drove back to work and reality. So much for that. 

But then I really did it! quit my job, and after warming up with a western America road trip and six weeks in the Haiti and DR, launched on a six month “vision trip” to some of the furthest flung reaches of the globe.  Now I’m back.

Was I profoundly changed?  Doubt it, but maybe.  Did I reduce my denarii in the bank?  Considerably.  Do I regret what I did?  No.  At least not yet. 

If nothing else, after poking around mother earth… she now feels cramped to me, far too small.  Airplanes have diminished her girth to survivor status.

Since getting back I’ve had a funny feeling hit me several times, especially at night before I fall asleep: a feeling of my brain being crowded with too many memories.  Like an action reel in fast forward: strange people, exotic locales, and bizarre events all race across my mind-screen…  causing an overwhelming feeling like I can’t process everything, like the recollections have no context in which to make sense, no appropriate neuron rack on which to hang their tails. 

In short: the proverbial lawnmower deck of my brain is clogged with the wet grass of incohesive experiences, to borrow the colloquialism.

So I’ve traveled.  Got to do fun things, serious things, educational things, religious things, and a few dangerous things (not too dangerous).

A few highlights:

Scuba dived in the Red Sea, snorkeled in the Caribbean, surfed in the Indian ocean, and swam off Waikiki Beach in Hawaii.  Took a horse full gallop in the Sinai, a boat full throttle down the Omo, and scary mutatos full speed through Africa. 

Pilgrimaged in the footsteps of Jesus in the Galilee, studied the Bible at the Wailing Western Wall in Jerusalem, and frequented Messianic congregations in Israel.  Climbed Saharan sand dunes in simmering heat, punched cattle in the Negev, and drank boiling tea with Bedouins in the dessert. 

Came face to face with grinding poverty in Port-au Prince, Addis Ababa, and the Kibera slums.  Rode a camel round the Giza Pyramids, a ferry through Venicean canals, and a Land Cruiser through outback bush.  Visited remote tribes in both the jungles of Papua and the savannahs of Ethiopia.  Went to the source of the Nile in the African highlands, and its mighty exit in Alexandria.

Saw raw Islam in the soaring minarets of Cairo, raw Orthodoxy in the rock-hewn churches of Lalibella, raw Judaism in the yiddish davening of Hasidim, and raw Christianity in the exuberant praise of Haitians.

Lived two months within a snipers range of the Gaza strip, visited the border region of Syria, crossed the Sinai, and traversed bandit-ridden northern Kenya.  Frequented the epicenter of world tension: the Temple Mount of Jerusalem, and spent time at the birthing place of the Egyptian revolution: the infamous Tahrir Square.  Got a haircut in Tahrir square too (thought I’d throw that in).  Arrived in Sentani, Indonesia during a time of political unrest.

Experienced the exhaustion of overnight bus rides, the stress of hitchhiking after midnight (alone), the frustration of being unable to communicate, and the isolated feelings of rolling into foreign shanty towns.

Numerous individuals and families provided me with overwhelming hospitality and I was the recipient of multiple gifts and special kindnesses.  Had my heart touched through friendships made on four continents.  Was inspired by sacrificial examples of living and giving I saw in a number of missionaries.  Got to rub shoulders with some special folks.

In the WWII history department, got to see General MacArthur’s Pacific base in Indonesia, tour the USS Arizona Monument in Pearl Harbor, and was deeply moved by the holocaust museum of Yad Vashem.

Did volunteer work in five countries.  Put in enough community service hours to no doubt earn the corresponding Boy Scout merit badge.

Speaking of which, what about that lunch for the hungry kid on the other side of the globe I’d thought about giving before I left?  Well, here and there I was able to give some kids lunch, and even a few adults.  It wasn’t much, but something… Some I talked with, others prayed with, some were preached to, others just got food, and a few received a Bible besides.  So a soul or two out in this wide world went less hungry, at least for a day, because I left home, and perhaps a few got spiritual food as well.

In travelling over 40,000 miles, the globe was circumnavigated on everything from the back of a bicycle to the back of a transport truck. 

I purchased 18 one-way airline tickets which totaled 30 legs of flights.  Total cost for said tickets (including the trip to Haiti/DR last summer) was $3,250.  That doesn’t seem too bad…  got a few good deals from credit card promotions and always hunted for bottom basement carriers when bought any ticket outright.  Hence the extravagant number of layovers and flying inconvenient hours sleeping in airports.

So how much did the whole trip cost?  I don’t know, didn’t keep track.

But I did touch ground in 12 countries, which is a nice number, but with all that somehow escaped falling in love with any cute foreigner girl, of whom I met several.

Trendy stats aside, what have I learned?

That, my friend, will have to wait for another post. Mainly because I’m not yet sure what I’ve learned.

But first, time to head off for quality time staffing at Turkey Hill Ranch Bible camp in Missouri!  Sleepless nights, here I come… 

(note my Blogging may wane as internet at camp is more sketchy than in remote southeast Asia)