A Dry Cry

Let's admit it: Sometimes it's really hard to just cry.

You know when you get that inkling inside your chest that lets you know that it's high time you let out all those tears that you've been bottling up for the last... oh, you know, few hours? Or rather, the last month.
It's like that with me right now, as I sit here, smack dab in the middle of two very different weeks.Today was the end of a slightly stressful, very eventful, beautifully sunny family vacation, while tomorrow is the beginning of a hard-labour, ever-greasy, early-morning-late-night week of camp.
Surprisingly, camp is definitely one-up on the charts for me. I appreciate being greasy, and ugly, toiling, working, sweating (actually), getting up dreadfully early, and going to bed sinfully late, as long as I can be where my heart desires. Where God desires me to be.

ELBC Junior Teens Week Talent Show 2010

And it makes me long to cry. My emotions are in freaking cahoots! My tears of joy and tears of pain are fighting each other so fiercely that neither of them is letting the other escape. It hurts my chest; it feels like a brick has been dropped onto my diaphragm, constricting the tears that are already occupying the space of everything else.

It feels like I'm trying to make it rain in the desert. The tears won't come, but the emotional tyranny won't END.

Dear Jesus, please... can't you stop time right now? Can't it be tomorrow forever?
Please, please, let this next week go by slowly. Help me to capture every sweet moment and keep it in my memory for as long as I live.

My happy place?
Being at camp,
hair undone,
no makeup in sight,
wearing Dad's old lumberjack shirt.