Knotted Up

Would you believe I have a tight knot in my stomach because I’m thinking of the church camp next week?

I feel 9 years old again, coming down from the classroom, entering the school canteen and not knowing where to sit while I eat my bread with butter and sugar.

I am 18 and sitting alone on the swing outside at my class’s graduation party because in my jeans and t-shirt I don’t fit with my classmates who are now in dresses and shirts and dancing to music I don’t know.

I’m 29 and tongue-tied at a group interview for a leadership post and wondering how the others could effortlessly interject and make conversation when I needed time to think about the question the interviewer asked.

I’m 35 and Rita is furious with me for staying in my cabin and avoiding the hordes of students and teacher colleagues on a 3-day school cruise trip.

At 55, I don’t seem to have changed much. Why then am I going?

It’s the pull of the theme of church camp – “Brokenness”.