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God does exciting things when people who desire him and expect him gather together in community. Keats is beloved by its staff and campers because it facilitates encounters with God. This summer (and in past summers) the staff bond through shared joys and sufferings, and as we pray, experience miracles of healing and provision; heaven coming to earth.

It’s exciting when something powerful and memorable happens in time and space. We can say, “do you remember the summer of 2011?” to which another might reply, “How could I forget? That summer we saw healings, salvations, changed lives and miraculous provisions!”

However, the most amazing point to these stories is not that they happened at Keats. Actually, it’s the opposite: it’s that they can happen anywhere. God is not confined to Keats, its community, or any physical place. God has the ability to work in people’s lives wherever they are. Keats staffers are all wonderful, but God is worthy to receive the glory. He is the reason we have these stories, or this community, at all.

God is the pursuer of his people (whom he calls his bride), and the one who makes the first move. Even faith is a gift from God. He is so good to us that he provides exactly what we need – and often goes above and beyond, because he is lavish with his beloved children.

Something I read in Romans chapter 1 shocked me this summer: “For although they knew God, they did not honour him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened.” I learned afresh to place honouring and glorifying God as the first priority in celebrating what I see in my faith journey. Simply knowing God is not enough. He deserves our worship.

My husband and I live frugally but comfortably in a one-bedroom apartment in Mount Pleasant.  We have only ourselves to care for and, for the most part, we’re pretty easy to care for.  We can afford to go out for dinner or a movie almost every weekend and when we go out we don’t have to scramble to find a trustworthy babysitter.  I leave most decisions to the very last minute (because I can), I sleep in on Saturdays (again, because I can) and I decorate our home with breakable objects (because I like them).  I persistently take my  status as a DINK for granted.   At Mum and Me, that’s not allowed.  Mums smile knowingly when I mention that Aaron and I would like (maybe someday) to have kids.  They laugh outright when I complain about how tiring my life can be.  I don’t blame them.  I would too if I were in their shoes.

Regardless, it’s my DINK status that allows me to volunteer at Mum and Me every year.  I can just pick up and leave- my husband can take care of himself and our plants.  At least I hope he can.  I haven’t missed a Mum and Me for 5 years.  I put in my last full summer on Keats staff in 2006 but my love for this camp has never abated.  I love the chaos, I love the bizarre requests, I love impromptu dance parties and off-the-cuff rounds of Duck-Duck-Goose.  I love the crazy energy of the kids and the quiet conversations with their mothers.

This year I massaged tired feet, played leapfrog on a water trampoline, went on boat ride, chased a Frisbee with my buddy Anthony, made some new friends on a stroll through the woods, watched a raucous wrestling match and joined in a spontaneous dance party.  I saw affectionate moms cuddle and kiss their kids.  I listened as a mom told me about how she got to try things at Keats that she would never be able to afford back in the city.  I was reminded once again of how proud I am of Keats Camps’ commitment to this very special camp.

So that’s me at Mum and Me- A DINK among single mums, trying my best to serve, trying my best to relate and understand, offering what I have- a pair of arms to rock a baby to sleep, a pair of legs to kick a soccer ball around the field with a pack of rambunctious 4 year olds, ears to listen to the wild imaginings of my old friend Aiden, answers to questions and a strong will to get things done.  My presence allows the mums a few minutes of adult conversation, the chance to try a new sport or activity, the space to rest for an afternoon.  It’s not much but I hope it’s enough for this year.

Mikael