love story

   So I'm well aware that I'm behind the curve, but I just discovered Spotify after years of being a loyal member of Pandora Plus and HOLY MOLY. It is gold ya'll. I'm not a fan of the ads (maybe an upgrade in the works Mom and Dad?) but you can listen to ENTIRE albums. All the John Mayer, all the Taylor Swift, all the David Crowder and all the Ben Rector albums I want! Magical. As a lay in bed the other morning, "Love Story" off Taylor Swift's Fearless album (old TSwift is the best TSwift) came on and I began SOBBING.

  Okay, no, not because I have found the love of my life or anything to what the song describes (to be honest I know my parents will be thrilled when/if I find my future spouse and they are nothing but supportive and the greatest people to walk the planet), but because this song reminds me of T Bar M Camp Travis. Dancing on table tops on Thursday night Boot Scoot night in the Rio (the dining hall) in my Mexican dress and overalls and cowboy boots and braids, screaming the lyrics on the top of my lungs, stomping on the tin table top dancing ridiculously (only to be outdone by the guy counselors across the salad bar) with some of my favorite people surrounding me and soaking in every. single. moment.

   To give myself some credit, I am an emotional person but not THAT emotional of a person to cry every time I hear a popular Taylor Swift song. I have been dealing with some unexplained GI issues the last three and a half weeks (yes, new GI issues, like it was possible for there to be more things wrong with my GI tract?! I really should stop saying that..) that have resulted in me getting on average 30 minute bursts of sleep, with the longest stretch being two hours. (Oh. And there was the 24 hour period where I used my epi pen twice. That sure was fun! What a life!) Alllll my chronic illnesses, coupled with my new found increased horrible sleep...

*Skkkrrrt side bar... Dr. Francamano, the EDS doctor in Baltimore, requested I have another sleep study done, so I had my 10th sleep study done in May here in San Antonio. When her office got the results, they double checked to make sure I actually slept (which indeed I had slept six hours) because my results were so bad from the paperwork it looked as if I hadn't slept at all. Your REM and Stage 3 sleep makes up 50% of your sleep and this is when you actually rest; your body/nervous system goes into rest and digest instead of fight or flight. WELL, guess what percentage of REM and Stage 3 sleep I am getting? 1%/. Yes, you did read that right. ONE PERCENT. No wonder I'm so freaking tired all the time! Due to dysautanomia, all the time I'm awake my body is in fight or flight and then due to my sleep issues when I'm asleep it's STILL in fight or flight! The doctor's office said it was the absolute worst sleep study they have ever seen, and that's coming from an incredible office who has been in the medical field for many years and sees rare cases every day! I felt as if I deserved some sort of medal or trophy for "achieving" this honor, but apparently you don't get a medal for having the worst sleep a doctor's office has seen :/

   Okay back on topic...When I get tired, I get overly emotional. I'm already an emotional and sensitive person, I'll be the first to admit it. Therefore, when I get tired, I get super emotional and cry. I cry a lot. Some people get angry, others irritable, others just shut down, others cry. Considering I haven't slept for more than a two hour period in the last three weeks (I asked my parents if this is similar to how they felt when they didn't sleep well for two years after the twins were born. They laughed.) it's no wonder hearing Love Story reminded me of Camp and automatically brought me to tears.

   This time of year is extremely difficult for me because a large majority of my friends and peers are working at summer camps (which I had always dreamed of/planned on doing) while I do summer school. I truly believe that camp ministry is what the Lord has called me to do, so it's quite painful watching my health hold me back when I strongly feel called to serving in this capacity and view it as my future career. Last time this year, I sunk into my deepest depression since multiple hospital stays and being diagnosed. It's so hard when you feel like the Lord is closing the door on what you feel He has called you to do for the last thirteen years.

   Camp ministry has held a special place in my heart since I attended T Bar M Sports Camp for the first time at age seven. Having attended Day Camp the year before, I already idolized the high school/college age counselors (It didn't "help" that my counselor was one of my childhood role models/mentors and still friends to this day, Michelle Gaffney Miles, I mean every kid idolizes their camp counselors but that brought it to a whole another level!) but I remember Trish White briefly explaining to all the girl campers and counselors what her job was (Women's Director of Sports Camp) and being BLOWN away. Wait. You're telling me she gets to work at camp FOR HER JOB?! And all year round?! That was it. I was sold. The dream of being the Women's Director at one of the T Bar M Camps started on that June afternoon in the Sanctuary over looking the Sports Field and I haven't stopped chasing after that dream since. As I've gotten older I've become realistic and broadened my horizons to the option of other camps and other positions, as there's only four women's director positions through out T Bar M Camps and they're rarely open, but of course that remains the ultimate dream.

   Around this time was also when my Dad was "passed down" the Labor Day Family Camp from the Weathersbee Family. This could be, and may be, another blog post, but my gosh, my love for these Family Camps has no bounds. Getting to watch families experience Jesus TOGETHER is awesome. They can implement changes as a unit. They can play as a unit. They can rest, relax and reflect as a unit. Getting to be behind the scenes with an increasing role each year is one of the biggest honors and greatest gifts my absolutely incredible Dad has given me. I loved getting to see all the facets, details and behind the scenes work that goes into making this awesome weekend happen and then watching it unfold before my own very eyes! It is truly one of the most special and surreal feelings. With each Family Camp, my love for camp ministry deepens.

   Back to T Bar M...In my four years as a Day Camp camper, I was blessed year after year to have outstanding counselors, deepen my relationship with Christ, make friends and have a blast while doing so. My mom often complained that I would come home and talk about camp literally non stop and do the cheers/chants at home (If you've ever been to/worked at a camp, you know what I mean by cheers/chants)...even though I was the only one doing them. I looked forward to that one week every summer all year long, and that I didn't change when I "outgrew" Sports Camp in New Braunfels after sixth grade and transitioned to Camp Travis in good ole Spicewood on Lake Travis, the camp for teenagers grades 7-11. I loved Camp Travis (and even had made some lifelong friends-looking at you Sofi and Lauren!) and thought it was great, but thought there was no way it could ever top my love of Sports Camp and my dream of one day returning as a counselor there, being promoted to leadership and eventually taking Trish White's job after college. Isn't it funny how He works...

   After receiving my POTS diagnosis from Dr. Patel in March 2012 had sunken in more and it became my reality, I walked into my parents bedroom. "I'm still going to Camp, right?" I asked them, positive that their answer would be yes. I mean, we had signed up for the following year on closing day last year just like we had on all days past! They both just looked at each other with a blank stare and then looked at me dumb founded. My dad finally spoke and said he just didn't know how that was possible and how it could happen. To say I was crushed would be an understatement. I felt as if I had already lost everything in my life that made my life my life, now you're saying the one week of the year I looked forward to the most would also no longer be apart of my life?! No no no no no

   Luckily, the Lord had greater plans and T Bar M showed me grace, love, compassion, mercy and kindness in the most incredible of ways. My dad, who had run retreats at T Bar M in the past through being our church's Director of Student Ministry, gave them a call the next day. The following day, I received a package in the mail from T Bar M. Inside it was a t shirt, coffee mugs, all sorts of fun Camp things and most near and dear to my heart, a big card signed by all of the staff sending their love and wishing that I get well soon. The best part however, was signed by Mark Kauffman, the director of Camp Travis. He said that he was excited to have me at camp in August. I WAS GETTING TO GO TO CAMP!!!!! How in the world I had nooo idea but gosh golly I was going to do it!

   In the beginning summer months, my parents and I began to brainstorm how this was going to happen. Mind you, Camp Travis is in the absolute middle of nowhere, and there is no AC-with the exception of the office and the nurse's office. With the diagnosis being new and with my parents, nor I, feeling comfortable with them being an hour and 45 minutes away in San Antonio, or even 45 minutes away at my uncle's house in Austin, it was clear they would have to be there in some form or fashion. My dad borrowed my uncle's camper and set up in the back of Camp, where he wouldn't be visible. He'll be the first to admit he loved being at camp almost as much as I did-if not more! Having him there provided my parents, myself and the Travis staff the reassurance and security that if anything should go wrong, my dad would be right there and able to take care of me. There was no way my heat intolerant body that passes out more and gets even more fatigued in the heat AND requires a daily nap and lots of sleep was going to make it in the 105 degree plus Texas summer heat without air conditioning, so I was set up to sleep in the nurse's office where I would have my own room and bathroom-IN THE AC! As for food restrictions (this was before all the feeding tube joy), Seth (now the programming director with his wife Haley, who he met at camp, yes camp love stories are the best AND and they have two precious boys) sent me the meal calendar for the week and I sent back my own calendar, color coordinated of course! I indicated what food of theirs I could eat, what food of mine I would be bringing that they would need to prepare, what food of mine I would bring for snacks, etc. A sweet, sweet Travis Crew (work crew, my mom calls them the slaves of camp, not inaccurate) girl's ENTIRE JOB for the week was to follow my calendar (which they were much impressed by I must add) and prepare my meals, even though I offered to do so myself. Shoutout to the entire TC Staff for having a servant's heart that week and always, but especially her...even though I don't remember her name.

   Now, here, here is where T Bar M went even MORE so above and beyond anything I could have EVER asked or dreamed for, now and to this day. THEY GAVE ME MY OWN COUNSELOR. Yes. You read that right. A counselor all to myself. And ya'll. Not just any counselor. But Erinn freakin' Overby. Before I was able to write this next section, I just sat at my laptop with a blank stare because there really are no words to describe this incredible human, nor will they ever be. From the moment I met her until now, she has influenced me in significant ways, more so than any of my other absolutely fantastic counselors I had over my ten years as camper and she continues to make me a better person every day since.

   When I arrived at Camp, I was nervous, to say the least. My two lifelong Camp friends that I had requested be in my cabin (everyone can request two people to be in their cabin, I'm not that big of a diva) well I realized I hadn't told them yet about my diagnosis and the changes that would be occurring at camp! Oops! Trying to explain that over text in 15 minutes sure was something. As my dad & I arrived with my mountains of stuff and passed through the familiar gate welcoming me home with the sign reading "Welcome to T Bar M Camp Travis", "Love God, Love Others" I felt a rush of excitement filled with the overwhelming peace of returning home. We were greeted with staff members as we pulled in, and upon opening the car door, I was introduced to MY counselor, Erinn, or as her name tag read, "Ernn." (They had made a typo five summers ago and she chose to go with it since then.) I was anxious getting out of the car by the nurse's house...which is right in the middle of camp, how was a summer camp full of teenagers and college students going to react to a girl unloading, with her father, everything but the kitchen sink at the nurse's office? In the process of unloading, was, of course, my wheelchair. I had just recently warmed up to the idea of accepting using a wheelchair to prolong my energy, but it was still quite humiliating to be a teenage girl  using a wheelchair. Before I could even come to terms of acceptance with my dad pulling the wheelchair out of the trunk, he pulled out a motorized scooter and said "Or you can use THIS!" (yes a motorized scooter like the ones grandma's use at HEB). "This is awesome!!" Erinn exclaimed. "Can I ride it?!" I was speechless and frankly, I didn't know what to do with myself. He explained that he had talked to Mark Kaufmann, and Mark was afraid that my wheelchair wouldn't be able to handle the rough terrain of Camp and all the pea gravel. Mentally, I realized he was correct and my dad was smart to rent a scooter for the weekend, but the teenage girl trying to maintain a "social image" didn't know what to think or do. However, it was at this moment, as Erinn did donuts on my motorized scooter, "testing it out" in the middle of Camp, that I knew the Lord had already provided ten fold.

   You see, what I needed that summer was not an extreme time of spiritual growth, but rather FUN. Now to say I didn't grow spiritually would be a lie, but to say I didn't have the time of my life would also be a lie. Going into that week, I needed to be reminded of the simple joys of life and what it was like to simply be a teenager and a laugh. This social butterfly who had been incredibly isolated since January needed to remember what it felt like to make friends, to have conversations with peers and be surrounded by fellowship. That week provided me with all that and more. Spending time with Erinn, she taught me to accept who the Lord created you to be. She showed me what it looks like to live in freedom to be yourself, fulling embracing joy and all that life has to offer.  Erinn modeled what it looks like to love the Lord with all my heart and how to be myself at all times. She alone has had one of the biggest impacts into shaping me into the person I am today. She continues to bless me by living a life full of zeal, zest and joy. She provides me with comfort, taught me how to make the best of every situation, knows the desires of my heart, listens to my fears and loves me well. She somehow was able to unlock a side of me that I never knew I had. That week was one of the first times in my life I learned that it's okay to accept help from other people; they see it as a way they can serve you and love you with a Christ like love. In that one week, I learned more to embrace who I am than at any other point in my life. That one week in August, those 72 hours, have remained some of the most influential in my life to this day. I could go on and on and on for how incredible that week was, it could truly be a book-as if this blog post isn't a novel length already! When it came time to leave, I SOBBED. I was the last camper to leave the grounds, and I was crying so much and so hard Erinn missed her end of session staff meeting! My mom had to peel me off of Erinn as I left and I cried the whole way home. It truly was the absolute best week of my life and I wish every day I could do it over and over again. If it gives you any sort of parameters to show you how wonderful that week was, Mark Kauffman's daughter, Coco (who is two years younger), and I became friends that week and Coco, who has spent her lifelong summers at Camp Travis, recently told me it was a week she would never forget and was one of the most memorable weeks she's ever had! Here's to you, Jesus, for providing me with who I needed, exactly when I needed her, and for giving me the sweet, undeserving gift of having Erinn Overby in my life every day since. I love you deep and wide, Ernn!

   The next year I returned to Camp, feeling much more comfortable with my circumstances and ready to embrace all that camp had to offer. Erinn was on leadership that summer, so she could not be my counselor, but I was paired with a gem named Ashlyn. Ashlyn is wise. What I needed that summer was for someone to challenge my thinking and theology, and of course, that is exactly what God provided through Ashlyn and the friends I made that summer (hi Sam, Garrett, Ty, Kristen & Alex and countless counselor friends). There was no such thing as a surface level conversation with Ashlyn. Every conversation was deep and went way beyond the camp provided devotional. She challenged my faith in ways I had never been challenged before and therefore stretched and grew my faith. Ashlyn provided wise counsel and for that, I am so thankful.

   As I prepared for my tenth and final summer as a T Bar M camper, I really didn't know if I was going to even make it to those gates. That year (2014-2015) is what I not so lovingly refer to as my hell year(s). When I arrived at Camp, I had already been in four hospitals in three cities in five months, with constant outpatient procedures. I had a feeding tube in my nose. I was receiving TPN (IV nutrition) through my port. I had lost 40 pounds and was weaker than I had ever been. I was on high, high amounts of IV narcotics and yet still in tons of pain. I showed up to Camp worn, weary and feeling low. I truly didn't think I was going to make it through the week and I figured if I did, I would be miserable in the process. It is in times like this, I feel as if God hears our internal thoughts, laughs, and goes, "just you wait and see, My Child".

   This week was the week with Claire Raabe. My goodness, I could go on and on about her as well! Looking back, I realize that she was my age (summer between her sophomore and junior year of college) when she was assigned to me. How she did not freak out and loose her mind when she realized all I entailed is beyond me. She showed love, compassion, grace and patience far beyond what I could ever dream about and I am eternally grateful for her for that. I admire Claire's authenticity and how dearly she searches to know the Lord better.

   Every moment that week was filled with emotion, as it marked the "last" of everything. In the past two summers, I attended all activities, but did not participate in all of them, as my health allowed me, and just slept in some in the morning and took a nap during the assigned camp rest time. This year I was much weaker, and therefore had to be much more selective in when I left the nurses office and also had to plan my day around my dozens of meds, when my TPN bag needed to be changed, when my feeding bag needed to be made and hooked up, when the pumps needed to charge...gosh it was (is) a lot. TPN is something you have to be extremely careful with and it's a TON of work, so my Dad handled that load, but still, I can't imagine what must have been going through Claire's mind. This week was also different because due to being hooked up to the TPN through my port, I was not allowed to get in any bodies of water as my port could not get wet. That was challenging when the camp you're on is ON Lake Travis! That meant no swimming in the pool either. This also presented a challenge when it came to bathing. Claire's servant heart shined through once again as she bathed me in a bathtub through out the week with me in a swimsuit, being extra careful around my port. I'm guessing when she decided to work at camp that summer, bathing a 17 year old girl was NOT what she pictured, but she did everything with a joyful heart full of love and kindness.

   Since I was much weaker that week, we did a lot more low energy activities in the cabin. One of my favorite memories is when I woke up one morning, Claire and a few of the other counselors had built a fort on the porch of the nurse's office covered with words of encouragement. They convinced some of the younger girl campers to join them in the process, and crowned me "Indian princess" complete with a flower crown and face paint. There were so many silly things like that through out the week that seem so small, so silly (At camp, it's cool to be weird), so trivial, but in a year when so many times I was just completely focused on staying alive and making it through the moment, small laughter filled memories like watching episodes of Friday Night Lights, obsessive picture taking, fort building, karaoke contests, flower crowns, face painting and late night porch swing talks mean so much more. I laughed and smiled so much that week in a year where I didn't laugh or smile much ever. That week, I was also shown the hands and feet of Christ and what a servants heart looks like in new ways. This was around the time when my pain had escalated to a new level, and there were countless times Claire would crawl into my twin size bunk bed and just hold me and allow me to cry on her shoulder. She constantly was thinking of new ways to distract me from the pain and suffering of what my life entailed. She provided a week of freedom and fun. Claire is a faithful friend who challenges me, inspires me to think deeper, pushes me out of my comfort zone and I'm excited to see what He has in store for our friendship.

   Two of my all time favorite camp memories also come from that week. One, is being carried down to the gospel ravine. On Wednesday nights, Camp presents the story of the gospel in a innovative way and it is followed by campfires with the counselors sharing their testimonies and then campers sharing their story as well as exploring their faith, if they feel inclined and comfortable to do so. At Camp Travis, the gospel presentation is held at a ravine looking over the lake. It is such a beautiful and sacred spot, however, a spot that is difficult to get to. It is not accessible by scooter, gator/mule or car, only by foot. When I realized this the first year with Erinn, I knew there was no way I could make it down there (it can be a challenge even if you're healthy!). I told the staff it was okay for me to miss gospel presentation, they could simply tell me what happened. They refused, and guys from leadership carried me down to the ravine on their backs. Incredible, Christ like, sacrificial, selfless acts of love in action. My third year, however, Wednesday had proven to be a tough day for me, and I was passing out more than usual. I also had pounds of "gear" with me for my port and feeding tube. I thought there was no way I was getting down to gospel ravine! Camp shone through with selfless hearts yet again. Guys took turns carrying me down, despite me passing out multiple times, and Claire following them with my gear. I remember thinking to myself, "If guys I barely know are willing to participate in selfless acts of service to show Christ's love to me, how much more must my heavenly Father love me?" I truly believe Camp is one of the greatest examples of the body of Christ in action and modeling the kind of community He intends and yearns for us to live in.

   The second memory came from the last night at worship, singing "Heaven Song" by Phil Wickham. I had heard the song before, and we had sung it at Camp previously that week, but that night I was in a lot of physical pain as well as a lot of emotional pain as I struggled to accept the fact that my time as a camper was forever coming to a close. The lyrics talk about what the artist thinks it will be like when we enter heaven-how peaceful it will be and how much comfort we will feel being with our Creator. Thinking about that day when I enter Heaven's gates to be united with my Savior-a day with no more pain, no more fear, no more tears-brought such sweet relief to my soul. Still to this day when I'm in pain, I will sing the song to myself. Doing so brings me back to Camp, a place of so much happiness, while also reminding me that the pain I'm enduring can't compare to the joy that is coming.

   As you can imagine, leaving Camp for me for my final time as a camper was filled of tears. There's several pictures where my eyes are swollen red, tears streaming down my face. Camp was always an important part of my life, but after the last three summers I attended at Travis, Camp had a whole new meaning. Camp had provided a safe place, a place of rest and a place where I was constantly surrounded by His people who consistently and faithfully showed me His love and grace. Camp had gained a greater appreciation in my heart for the people on staff and how tirelessly they worked to make those weeks possible for me. I had always wanted to return to Camp to give back to the place that gave so much to me, and still do, but after those three weeks I know there's nothing I can ever do to repay them for the three weeks they gave me. Camp brought some of the most amazing people in my life who have continued to love me well to this day. Camp has ushered in mentors who have stood by me and loved me well, even when I am not easy to love. Camp is the closest thing I have ever experienced to Heaven on earth and has lead to me living a life of constantly chasing after that feeling of unsurpassed joy that surrounds you when you surround yourself with those who are constantly seeking Him in all they do and keeping you accountable for your actions while loving you with Christ like love along the way. As I left, Meg Cooke reassured me that this was not the end of my camp story, but rather the beginning of a new chapter. Several people from Camp have told me in the past how much my story inspired them, but what they'll never know is how much the love they showed me inspired me, and that is something I'll never be able to put into words to adequately thank them for. The Body of Christ in action purposefully and intentionally serving others is incredibly beautiful to witness and extremely humbling to be in the middle of.

   Sadly due to my health, I was not able to return to Camp on Travis Crew the following summer, or as a counselor the past two summers as I had always dreamed of. No words can explain how long my heart yearns to be there serving. Having a chronic illness has me constantly feeling like I'm trapped in a body that is so full of potential, yet I'm not able to tap into that potential because of an illness my body has that isn't my fault. However, as with all things in life, I'm not giving up on my dreams. I really do not have any idea why in the world the Lord hasn't allowed me to work at Camp when He has so clearly marked my heart with that passion almost thirteen years ago and continues to do so. It's so difficult coming to terms why I'm not working at camp at this very moment, it's not like I wanted to spend my summers committing murder or selling drugs! No, I wanted to spend my summers loving on His children in a place that is filled with His spirit, His story and His people.

   A little tie in from this blog post to the one I'm working on next and hoping to have done by my 20th birthday on July 19th: My dad and I have recently been talking about how God is not fair. He does not say He is fair. God is a lot of things, but fair is not one of them. He is, however, just. He does however promise that His plans are for good, have a purpose and are for the good and glory of His Kingdom. This has influenced how I go about my future and my plans. I believe He is preparing me for something greater that what I could've imagined and a plan unique to my situation and my story. He never once promises that our journey will be easy (I mean, think about it, His own son's life here on Earth was far from easy), but He did promise that He would never leave us. I know the work He does at Camp does not stop simply because I am not there, and connecting with friends who not only work at T Bar M but the many, many, incredible Christian camps across the country remind me of that. We are such a small piece in what He is doing. Our piece is small, but it is not insignificant. I don't know what He has planned for me and my future in camp ministry-life would be a heck of a lot easier if I did! I imagine it as if I'm holding onto this fake pearl necklace-symbolizing all my prior hopes and dreams and what I, Ashley Marie Roper, think is best for me. Yet, here He is in the distance with a real pearl necklace, saying, "My Child! Why won't you look! I know you think you know what's best and what you need, but taste and see! Let go! What I have for you is so much better!" Faith is hard. It's hard to let go of what you think YOU need and put your trust in something you cannot see or understand. However, that's what makes faith, FAITH. So my prayer is that I'm able to let go of my fake pearl necklace and that I'm able to accept that real pearl necklace with open arms, whatever that may look like. It is a scary prayer of surrender, acceptance and trust but the Lord has constantly shown me, despite my doubts, that He is a God of love, and with Him on my side whom can I fear?