Packin' the Dayz

It is amazing to me how much one week can contain. I feel like a month was tightly rolled and squeezed into the last few days. Last week's occupation was counseling for a girls camp. Many of these hoody clad females were between the ages of 8 and 10, and were bused in from inner city Dublin. At the end of the week, having looked around at the other bleary eyed leaders, I can safely assess that I wasn't alone in my a-week-is-a-month feeling.
Several things happened that I still don't fully understand. I don't understand how one little girl can go so rapidly from smudging out my name on a banner Sunday night, to giving me sweet cards with red crayoned hearts on them Thursday night. I don't understand why a girl would refuse to touch a dirty (but scraped) plate, when her hands are immersed in hot soapy water. I don't understand how so many girls can be friends one minute, and so violently at each other's throats the next. But that's okay. I suppose those are the type of things that puzzle you when you are in rehash mode.
There are several things that I do understand about the week, and they tend to make me smile. It makes me smile to think about the little girl who was so grateful for learning how to swim on Wednesday, and it makes me smile when I think about getting to teach the girls from my tent a few new songs. It also makes me smile when I think of the two girls that gave their life to Christ towards the end of the week. I think those are the things that make packed days worth it, and it is where I need to choose to let my thoughts rest.