It’s funny how a question can trigger a memory from over thirty years ago. Something so insignificant too, when compared to every other event in a person’s life.
The moment I didn’t take action and still wish I’d had, happened a bible camp one summer when I was around nine years old. Attending the camp was my idea, I believe I’d had a crush on a boy, who I knew would be at the camp and whom I’d otherwise probably not see.
So I asked my parents if I could go and they agreed. I had no friends going to this camp, wasn’t sure I would know anyone else there honestly. But getting to see my crush on a daily basis was enough for me. The church that put on this camp was not even the same denomination as the church my family attended. I also didn’t let that stop me. There were other summer camps that I could have chosen in the area and my older sister was also attending one, but of a different denomination and much less “strict”.
Looking back now, I can’t believe my parents didn’t question the decision more, or try and talk me out of it. Slightly sacrilege to partake of this bible camp allowing hormones to take the wheel, only to try and grow closer to a boy, actually not even grow closer, just SEE him everyday.
And I might have had second thoughts myself had I realized how strict this camp was and how many times a day I’d spend in the chapel actually worshipping God. I also didn’t realize how early we’d be waking up to do it. I was not enjoying myself. I felt lonely, I felt isolated. The other kids all seemed to know each other from school or church I suppose. And then there was me.
So now to the point of today’s prompt, one afternoon we were taken down to the lake for a chance to waterski. I had never been on waterskis, not sure I’d ever been in a boat at that point in my life. I was very excited for the chance to waterski. I felt I would be good at it. But there was no rhyme or reason to how each kid got to participate, no sign up sheet or line to stand in. It was just basically, hangout on the dock or at the edge of the lake and put up your hand when the boat came back in with the last skiier and hope that they’d notice you and call your name.
You can imagine how popular this one time, one boat, activity was amongst probably eighty kids. Waterskiing was not in the brochure, definitely not listed as a camp activity. It was just one camp counsellor who knew a guy, who stopped by with his boat and rope and skis and decided hey these kids might like this.
I was dying to do it, aching to put up my hand each time the boat returned to the dock with another kid who’d actually had the nerve to speak up and take their turn gliding on the water. But something in me just wouldn’t. It was as though both arms were tied to the bench I sat on and my voice just gone.
Again and again the boat came in and the driver would look for another excited volunteer to pull around the lake. I had chance after chance. I just couldn’t speak up and say hey, I want to try! Of course at the beginning I was thinking, okay I’ll let a few kids go first and watch from here, then once it’s old news I’ll put my hand up and it’ll be my turn. But something kept stopping me.
I knew time was running out and if I didn’t jump up and say okay me next, I would be out of luck. Last chance! Anyone else want to take a turn?! Speak up! And there I sat, like the little church camp mouse I was. It was eating at me, the internal struggle with myself, to just put my hand up and have a chance to do what was undoubtedly the best activity of this one week camp. I was fighting with myself to do it. In my head. And in my stomach.
The stomach won. I was too late. The boat took off. Everyone had a smashing time. Except for me. I was so disappointed with myself. Fear had controlled me.
To this day I’ve never gotten on water skis. But I also learned a valuable lesson and I don’t think there’s ever been a time since then that I’ve let fear or my ego or whatever it was, stop me from doing something I feel I would enjoy.
bloom.planted.north 
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