Well, technically, I didn't sleep directly on the floor. Technically, I slept on an air mattress. However, for someone with back problems like me, there really wasn't a whole lot of difference, air or no air. Which by the end of the night, the air in between me and the carpet was definitely lacking.
I am regularly gifted with opportunities such as the previously described because of my dedication to being a youth counselor. Generally, Danny, our youth director, makes it a point to get us accommodations that include regular beds and air conditioning. This time, though, we were given the chance to stay at a house located on the Withlacoochee River outside of Dunnellon, Florida.
Why were we retreating?
Because of Confirmation.
Well, specifically because the current Confirmation class is coming up on the big day, and we usually take them away for a weekend before hand to finish up their lessons and to also enjoy each others company outside of the church walls.
I was so tired going into this past weekend. I'd been working in the church office for two and a half weeks, as well as taking care of rental business, house-sitting jobs, and my other job at the church. Needless to say the idea of spending my weekend acting as a youth counselor was not high on my list of things that sounded fun. But, I went. Well, actually I drove, two of the confirmands got to ride in my car up to Ocala.
I'm not going to go into a play by play of the weekend, or the lessons that we went over.
I'm simply going to put down in writing how much I enjoyed my time on Friday and Saturday, hanging out on the dock with the kids. Oh, and fishing.
Fishing is one of the things that Mom and Dad shared with Russ and I growing up. Not to say that we were ever extremely successful in catching anything. It was always a time for hanging out with each other and enjoying nature. Fish fries afterwards were also wonderful times of togetherness, especially with mom's brothers and their families. The smell of frying fish and hush-puppies always brings back memories of those times (and I don't eat fish, so that's saying something!)
I love fishing. I loving sitting on a dock, on the bank of a river or lake, on a pier, on a boat. The simple act of getting your line and hook set for throwing out into the water, the waiting, the gentle tug of the flow of the water, nibbles on your bait, and possibly a set hook in the mouth of an unsuspecting fish. . .there is peace in that, peace which I can carry in my mind and go back to in times of frustration or distress.
The sights, the sounds, the smells. . .they all roll up into this bundle of happiness, even those times when dad couldn't get the motor running on our old bass tracker and we'd be stuck out in the middle of the lake, listening to him mutter and curse.
I found myself remembering all of this while standing on the dock with the youth, as they asked me for advice on how to tie on a weight or float or hook, how best to attach the bait, etc. I loved it. I absolutely loved it. I found myself thanking God over and over and over again for dragging my resentful, irritated, and tired soul out of my hidey hole of self-pity and exhaustion and out onto the pine planks of that dock.
Because guess what?
I got to add to that bundle of happiness.. .
The moment when Caitlyn caught a catfish and squealed that she didn't want it, nearly throwing down her rod and losing the whole thing.
The moment when William caught his first brim on his own with no help and grinned with pleasure as he grasped the wriggling little body.
The sight of children waking up early to get their fish on, groggily trying to tie on hooks and weights.
Sleeping on the floor was totally worth it. . . . :)
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