I'm kind of in denial that we're currently in our 6th and final week of full-day camp. I wish I could stay forever or, at the very least, find a way to slow time down.

This is my 4th week as the craft station leader, and I think it goes without saying that having the opportunity to be at craft the past few weeks has been one of the most unexpected blessings of this summer. At first, I was a little bit worried that as a station leader, I wouldn’t be able to build connections with the kids since I wasn’t leading a color team, but the opposite has actually turned out to be true. Because all the kids come to craft, I'm actually able to get to know way more of them than I normally would be able to if I was leading my own team of kiddos, and I've definitely been able to get more than my fair share of the hugs and snuggles and high fives. Craft is my favorite station because almost every single camper (it doesn’t matter how hyper or how quiet or how old or how “cool” they are) will sit down and be engaged in making the craft in front of them. Many of these kiddos don’t have the chance to do things normal kids get to do, so I love seeing these kids be creative and be encouraged to be creative at craft time. Few things are sweeter than having a kid run up to me and proudly show me their finished craft. It makes my heart melt every. single. time. I also feel like the craft rotation is also a time for the leaders to relax and let loose a little bit, and I'm pretty sure I get some of the best entertainment because so many ridiculous things just happen during craft time. The craft room has turned into a runway for a couple of fashion shows, a temporary tattoo parlor and makeup room, and a battlefield for sticker wars (things get real intense, y'all). There's really never a dull moment in "lucru manual" (Romanian for "craft" - another cool thing about being a station leader is that I've picked up a ton of random Romanian phrases).

I also love that I get the chance to hang out with all the leaders when their team is at the craft rotation, and as a result, I've gotten to know a lot of the translators really well. And can I take a minute to brag on all our incredible translators? Our translators are all high school students, and they probably have the toughest job at camp because not only do they have to babysit their kids, they also have to babysit their Americans and make sure we understand what the kids are saying and vice versa. They're literally the glue that keep camp from falling apart, and I'm so, so thankful for each and every one of them. It's so much fun getting to go to "work" with these dear Romanian friends, and I have no doubt that they're going to be some of the people I miss most when I have to go home. (Shoot, I'm tearing up just thinking about that. I don't want to say goodbye!) Craft is also an awesome time where I get to hear about how my fellow camp interns' days are going, pray over them if they're having a rough day with a trouble kid, and celebrate the gospel conversations they've had with their team. My fellow interns are some of the most caring, compassionate, hard-working people I know, and it's been incredible getting to serve alongside people who share the same heart and passion for orphans.

As I've been preparing my heart to go home and reflecting on the past couple of months that I've been in Romania, I sometimes struggle with doubt that the work we're doing is making any sort of impact on these kids. After all, we only get to have them for one short week in the summer, and for most of us, we'll never have the chance to see these kids again, so it's hard to know whether or not this week of camp we do have with them will make a difference in contrast to the harsh realities they have to face on a daily basis during the rest of the year. Sometimes it's incredibly difficult to pour out love on kids week after week when we don't see the fruit of our labor, but God doesn't call us to be fruitful, He's merely called us to be faithful. God has placed us here in Romania at this particular time serving these particular kids for a particular reason, and because of that, I need to love these children fiercely and unconditionally regardless of how hard they are to love and whether or not we'll see them again after this week. I feel like I tend to overcomplicate and overthink about things when it's really quite simple - all God is calling me to do here in Romania is to love these children and the people around me. That's it. He's not asking me to find them all families and heal all their emotional wounds and save them all because heavens know that there's absolutely no way I would be able to do that. That's a burden only He can carry, and when I think for a second that anything I do on my own strength will make any sort of impact, everything gets screwed up because as imperfect human beings, that's just what we tend to do. But when we surrender our pride and become obedient in the seemingly simple things He's called us to do, that's when mountains are moved and lives are changed because Jesus works wonders when I allow Him to use me however He wants to use me to further His kingdom. In the midst of all the team posters, paper flowers, and trophies that are being created during the week, I'm constantly reminded that God is faithful to His promises that as the Defender of the Fatherless, He is creating something beautiful in the hearts of these kids as well.

Camp last week was hands down the most exhausting and draining week we've had yet. The first week of camp was physically hard in that the kids all had a ton of crazy energy and wouldn't sit still; the second week of camp was like a breathe of fresh air because the kids were all so sweet and quiet and obedient; but my goodness, this third week of camp was a whole different ball game because it was spiritually, emotionally, and mentally taxing. Last week, I ended up helping one of the short term missionaries Emily at the craft station instead of leading a team of my own, which meant that I had the unique opportunity to see all the kids and all the leaders during the day and got to observe behaviors and interactions that I would not normally have the privilege of seeing if I had my own kiddos to take care of. And I'm not going to lie, it was heavy. We had kids ranging from ages 3-20 at camp this week, and while the younger ones were some of the sweetest kids I've ever met, the majority of kids were over the age of 14, and well, let's just say that they've been dealt an incredibly rough hand of cards. These teenagers all came from incredibly difficult and traumatic pasts that left most, if not all, of them with a number of behavioral and mental issues. Specifically, we had a group of older teenage boys that just required an abundance of extra grace and love. They caused multiple fights, showed up to camp drunk, interacted with girls inappropriately, and snuck away to smoke. In addition, we also had three pregnant teenage girls participating at camp, and my heart ached every time I saw them at craft because they honestly still looked like children themselves, but they were preparing to take on the role of motherhood far too soon. It was eye-opening having the little kids at camp the same week as the teenagers. As I played with some of the little kids during craft time, I couldn't shake the thought that the teenagers at camp were probably once like these precious little children themselves, but because they don't have a family to love on them and care for them, they've become hardened and traumatized and just so, so broken. The thought that there was a very, very high probability that the sweet, precious little children could grow up to be as broken as these teenagers shattered my heart to pieces.

Last week I was confronted with the realization that we're not just working against mere flesh; we're fighting an intense spiritual battle of good and evil while serving these kids. I remember walking into the gym last Wednesday and just feeling this dark, oppressive presence over the place. I don't think I've ever felt brokenness so tangibly before, and we all came home that day with low spirits and discouraged hearts. BUT, God was (and still very much is) so incredibly gracious to us. In the midst of the chaos and messiness and troubles, He was making beauty rise from ashes, and the week turned out to be full of amazing surprises. Some of us had the opportunity to have intimate conversations with campers, and some of the seemingly "tough" and "cool" teens shared their heartbreaking stories, asked questions about Jesus, and just had the chance to be heard by someone who genuinely cared about them. Camp was an opportunity for these kids and teens to just reclaim their childhood and have fun in a safe, loving environment, and it was heartwarming seeing the smiles and hearing the laughter of the campers during the week.

I also found it humbling that the week I didn't have any kids on my own team to take care of was the week I felt the most connected to and broken for the kids. If I'm completely honest, I'd been frustrated with how spiritually dry I'd been feeling since I've been here. I felt like I was in this black hole where nothing was really affecting me emotionally like it probably should. I was honestly expecting, even praying, that while I'm here in Romania, I would have this profound encounter with God's Father heart for orphans and that I would be in this constant emotional state of brokenness and tears over the hearts of the kids we're working with at camp. But did you catch the problem with that? I was expecting it. I realized that I'd been placing a lot of unrealistic expectations on this trip, and the biggest problem with that was that I was essentially telling God how I would like Him to work through me and that I would like to be broken in a particular way and feel certain things and so on and so forth. But goodness, that's just so petty and selfish and foolish and wrong of me to think that way. Who am I to tell the Almighty and Sovereign God what I want to do with my life, a life that's not even mine to call my own in the first place? It's been a humbling and sanctifying process allowing the Lord to prune my sinful little heart and teach me again (for what is probably like the 4543948756th time) that I need to surrender control of my life completely to Him because I can do nothing good apart from my Savior. But in that surrender, my Father has so graciously exchanged my frustration for His peace, my fear for His courage to love recklessly, and my ambivalent heart for His broken heart for these kids. So yes, while life lately has been messy and chaotic, somehow it's still been insanely beautiful, and I can't help but praise Him for that. God is doing incredible things here in Romania, and I'm so thankful and humbled that I get to be here to see and participate in the work that's being done in these children's lives, and that He's chosen to graciously work in mine as well.