This weekend Elisa and I dropped Dishon off at camp. I was a little nervous about going, actually. It's easier to distract yourself from missing camp when you're somewhere else, doing other things that are good in their own way.

It was a little surreal being on the other side of registration day, but I was warding off the nostalgia pretty well, until we dropped him off at his cabin. The four boys who were already there jumped up in excitement when we walked in. They eagerly helped Dishon choose a top bunk by the window and all climbed up, pulling his sleeping bag and pillow up for him.

“I have an idea! You should put your head this way so you can have a nice view!” drawled one of the boys, whose face reminded me of a cartoon dinosaur (the cute kind).

As we were about to leave, I heard Dishon say he wasn’t sure if he could get down from the bunk, and his cabin mates all chimed in. “Here, let me help you!”

Oh, how I love adventure campers! They may be needy and delicate, and their angelic attitudes rarely last the whole week. They pee in the wrong places and cry a lot. But the innocence and sweetness in their hearts never fails to inspire me.

So far when I’ve missed camp, I’ve been able to console myself thinking of the many blessings in my life. I'm happy to be where I am, doing what I'm doing.

But the kids...they’re irreplaceable.