A Change of Scenery... but not really

This morning I woke up, left my room, walked down the familiar hall, through two sets of doors, down the stairs, through another door, across the room, through another door, down the hall, into my office, and to my espresso maker.
Yes. I'm back at camp.
It's amazing how thirteen years go by, and somehow now coming to this place is just so natural I do things without thinking anymore. There's even the stomping of little feet on the floor above my desk, although its kids from a rental group still here and not those of our Junior High campers arriving in two weeks.
Man I remember the day I showed up for my first summer as a counselor. Dale and JP were sitting on a partially completed deck beside the brand new lodge, and I was still processing in my mind the fact that I was actually going to work at Cedarwood, my place of refuge in those crazy Junior and Senior high years. By that point in life I had discovered that my true refuge was God, but it is amazing how a physical location can still hold such importance in ones life.
Those first couple of summers were quite stretching for me as I slowly, soo slowly, learned to accept myself for who God made me to be and to stop trying to emulate those who I looked up to.
Ah, Jordan's playing guitar in the staff lounge, learning the p tunes for the summer. Soon the bell will ring for breakfast and I'll haul my lazy old body up the stairs to the dining room, and among the chaos of yelling and laughing and spills, it will be good, just as it always is.