camp 2

Camp 2

I brace my fingers against the cold wood, the hard metal strings. Blue-eyed best friend has walked on, blond hair boy has left with her. The grass is wet in my shoes. And I think I am afraid. Because I've got this idea of perfection in my head, and the song he is going to do doesn't fit into my narrow mind.

What does surrender mean to you?

I grab the guitar and I grab my book and I look up at the other boy. The boy with the strong hands that hold the guitar like he'll never let go. We're leading the music tonight, leading a fight. He waits.

"Do you think this is going to work?" I cringe, under the weight of my own fear.

The other boy thinks for a moment. In our silence, birds cry out, and the cry is hallelujah. Endless praise that they cannot cease. It sounds chaotic to my ears. So much praise. How can one little girl survive the storm?

The boy turns back, something strangely wise in his face.

"It'll be good." He says quietly.

I stare at him, because he's too wise too fast. Does he understand the storm? Does he understand the chaos? He looks straight back, never wavering for a second. And then that slow smile spreads across his face.

"It'll be good."

What does surrender mean to you?

I sigh and laugh a little bit as we walk towards the fire pit, swinging our silly guitars.

So much praise. So much chaos. But maybe I am the one who needs to tune her heart to the song. Maybe I am the one who needs to be bend beneath the storm.

Surrender is peace. Surrender is praise.

It'll be good.

♥

xoxo