My Duty as Your Counselor

for my campers

How could I have known five years ago that the two of them would mean so much to me today?

That I’d know and love them even more…and that they’d be in my heart to stay?

As I stood and watched them be escorted to their tables, I could scarcely believe they were the same.

Taller than me, high school bound, beautiful young women….what happened to the silly super counselor game?

For years there’s been no doubt in my mind; God gave me to them to be their counselor

To help them through homesickness, hurt feelings, crushes, missing the touch of their dog’s fur.

But the older they get the more inadequate I feel, as I can’t wipe away their problems with a joke anymore.

Midweek in chapel I sat and had a talk with God. I said, "Help me, God, for I feel I can’t help them anymore.

"I wasn’t popular in high school…I know what it’s like not to be cool…that I can handle, but God…

I don’t know what loss is, not truly, not really…When she cries I can’t say, "I know, I know," with a nod."

They are special to both Michigamme Muskrat day group ’95 counselors, so I came to this conclusion:

I was meant for one, and Jeremy was sent for the other. This made more sense…a perfect illusion.

I felt comfort once again…I could handle the one’s problems as tough as they were, and Jeremy the other’s.

But then I heard a soft voice say, "No. You were both meant for the two. This is My will not your druthers."

"But, God," I argued, "I can’t help the other. Why did she have to get older? Why are you taking something she’ll so greatly miss?

Nothing I say can help. I can’t fathom her feelings…don’t know what she’ll face. He’d be much better at this."

"My child, your job as her counselor is not to fix it. Nothing can fix it, I know. He will nod and understand.

Yes, this is harder than explaining why someone could pop Jacques the balloon and bury him in the sand.

But you must be there for the other as well…I have a special job for you to do. You accept your role for the one."

"That’s different, God. I can tell the one that in three years the hurt will be over. Sure things for the other are none.

"What then, God? What can I possibly have to give her now? How can I help? For a miracle I pray every day."

There was silence, and I let the tears fall. It was hopeless. I didn’t know what to do or what to say.

Then: "Love her. Give her joy. Remind her that I love her as well. Be her friend. You don’t have to know

Of her pain to be of comfort. And, yes, pray every day. I perform miracles, so don’t give up hope to woe."

"God, just give it to me instead. It kills me that they have to face this. If I had just two wishes

I’d wish to go down the halls and give those jerks a piece of my mind…make them see how sweet the one is.

And my second wish would be to become a doctor and find the cure all in two years for the other.

And after this summer it’s worse, my hurt, because you brought me closer as well to her big brother."

I feel as helpless as I did five summers ago when they were fine but their counselor faced what the other does now.

The counselor who wasn’t me. I didn’t know what to say then, and I don’t now. How do I help her…How?

"Love them, My child. Love them all. Pray for your camp family that they may find peace.

Tell the one high school doesn’t last forever and the other that in heaven the hurting will cease.

And if they should happen, the two things you fear most, I’ll give you the strength and the knowledge to cope

To help the one know she’s loved elsewhere and to fill the other’s heart once again with hope."