New camp, same road

This summer, like last summer, I worked as a camp counselor for persons with special needs. I worked at a different camp this year, one where the age range and disability range of the campers was much broader and where all of the campers needed enough assistance to require a one-on-one camper/counselor relationship. I was assigned a new camper each week, for whom I was responsible and whose well-being and entertainment were mine to provide.

Some weeks I was paired with a camper who had learning or behavioral disabilities, such as Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Oppositional Defiant Disorder, Bipolar Disorder, and Autism spectrum disorders. These weeks often left me tired from running around camp, and they occasionally left me with a battle scar or two after dealing with aggressive, tantrum-like behaviors. Some weeks I worked with a camper who had a severe cognitive delay or physical disability, such as Cerebral Palsy, Down's syndrome, or traumatic brain injuries. These weeks left me drained in a completely different way, from the physical strain of performing personal care - dressing, transferring, toileting, showering, and feeding — to the emotional struggle of realizing a camper will never have the cognitive ability to mature past the age of two or the long-term memory to know my name by the end of the week.

But the physical and emotional exhaustion could not compare to the joy I experienced or the lessons I learned from each and every one of my campers this summer. I learned how to communicate non-verbally and how to sign in American Sign Language. I learned that being able to feed myself unassisted is a blessing. I learned that swimming and dancing have therapeutic powers. I learned that transitioning from Velcro shoes to shoes that tie is an enormous accomplishment. I learned that there is no rush getting from place to place. I learned that The Chicken Dance is a great motivational tool. And somewhere in the middle of my summer I learned that all of this is my calling.

I don't know yet in what capacity I feel drawn to therapeutic work with people who have special needs, but I trust God to continue to guide me. I am also realizing with time that a big part of life is going into experiences like this with an open mind and a willingness to learn rather than teach; to be changed rather than do the changing. For it is in this way that God's work happens, both through me and to me. It is truly a gift to feel the unconditional love of another person who knows that you will be there to care for all of her basic needs; who knows that at the end of the day you love him despite — and even for — the part of his psyche that makes him act out with frustration and aggression.

To experience such love is, perhaps, to glimpse the heart of God; to become aware of the warmth of God's touch in the work that I'm doing and the lives that are being transformed all around me, including my own. And this in turn assures me that God will lead me to where I am supposed to be in life, so that I may continue to grow and love and be transformed by people as beautiful as those I worked with throughout the summer, and that I might transform a life or two as well along the way.