camping...and what it means to play guitar

A quiet campsite

This is where we gathered to hang out with folks and eat.  It was home base.  This is where we huddled through the rain.  This is where we sang.  This is where we talked, and got to know each other better.

view from my porch

one side of my kitchen/bedroom

bunk beds, where i kept all my junk

the other side of the kitchen/bedroom

my walk down to the main campsite

my "rustic cabin", which I'm so glad I wasn't sharing this year

Our church camping trip at Kymer's is now in the past.

I'm still digesting my thoughts about the weekend.  On one hand, it was a positive experience, and I was able to gain a bit of experience and confidence.  I did receive some very good comments from folks.  Some people were surprised I've only been playing guitar for 2 years.  One comment was "wow, wow!"  when I did Holy, Holy, Holy.   There were some other comments equally encouraging.  Whenever anyone said they enjoyed something I sang it made me happy because I felt like I made them smile, or made them feel good...and that was nice.   It was also nice when someone would tell me to keep playing, or keep singing, because they were enjoying it.   I got a lot of different comments.

On the other hand...it was a very different experience than the time I led songs for Ryan's party.  Just a very different interest, a very different vibe altogether.  I am learning that not all groups of people react the same way to singing and worshiping.   Some people love to sing and worship.  Some people are more inhibited in their expression of song and worship.   Some like to partake of the experience, and some only want to observe from the outside looking in.  At Ryan's party, it was a very enthusiastic crowd of musicians who loved to sing and worship.  I could clearly hear all the voices; some melody, some harmonies...the beautiful chorus of voices reaching up to heaven.  It was a passionate and emotional experience.   But not all people or experiences will be the same as that.  I need to remember that not everyone really likes to sing or express themselves as much as I do.  And so if they are more comfortable with just listening to me sing, then I will certainly respect that.

I'm glad I went.  It was so nice to be in a quiet place for a few days.  In some ways I was on my own, and in other ways I felt a certain amount of opening up and letting people see who I am really am.  At the end of the day I was grateful to have the cabin all to myself.

my calloused fingertips

This is how my fingers looked before the weekend.  It's a continuous rebuilding of callouses and then having them peel off.  My fingertips are actually pretty deformed at this point, and it's hard to feel anything that I touch with those 4 fingertips.

For me, playing guitar is all about being able to express myself, and finally being able to sing.  Even though I don't have any place to play or sing, this has been God's way of giving me that outlet that I have craved for so long, like literally since I was a child.  When I was a child I used to get on my horse and go sing in the woods.  I don't have a horse now, but I have my trusty Martin.  What it means to me is a safe place to be comfortable and to let out a voice that has always been afraid to come out.

In other news, no one came to our open house on Sunday.  No one.  I felt bad for Melissa.  She was so upset about it, bordering on devastation.  I assured her it was ok and that it wasn't God's timing yet.   We have another open house scheduled for this Sunday while we're on our Bermuda cruise.