Tales from Kauai?

I lived an adventure this summer.

Let me explain.

One of the biggest and most consistent arguments that I have with God is about whether or not I have enough adventures in my life. My closest friends at school know that one of my most commonly uttered phrases is, “Let’s go have an adventure!” I’m in love with the concept of stories, and I possess a constant longing to participate in one. I often wag my finger at the heavens and tell God (with all of my delusional authority that I hope He finds endearing), “You’re not giving me enough adventures! Where my adventures at, Lord?”

This summer, He reminded me that the characters in adventure stories don’t know that they’re in an adventure story at all… until the inciting incident.

For those of you who were outside playing with actual friends and building real muscle mass in elementary school while I was shriveling up in the dim light of a library, an inciting incident is the moment in a story that starts it all. This moment requires a change in the main character. He cannot reasonably carry on with his normal life because the inciting incident has changed everything. In Toy Story, Buzz Lightyear’s arrival in Andy’s room causes Woody to reconsider the way he hoards Andy’s love. In Beauty and the Beast, it’s Belle’s father getting kidnapped by the Beast. Belle knows she has to take his place at the castle, and her life is never the same. The main character doesn’t expect the inciting incident, and it causes him to stretch in ways he didn’t think he could.

Problem is, I was expecting my inciting incident.

Heck, I was begging for my inciting incident. I was tired of the exposition. “Hey God, don’t you think my character is established enough?” I said for a year, which I see now is the verbal equivalent of nudging God with my elbow and telling Him (the Creator of the universe, mind you) to just do it my way. And for a year, God shook His head and (I imagine) probably chuckled a bit, knowing what He had coming up for me.

Let me pause here and fill you in on a little bit of the aforementioned exposition.

Back in the fall, I applied to a Christian camp in Texas. I was fired up. I got all of my references, I filled out the application early, and I geared up for my interview. On the day of my interview, I showed up twenty minutes early, (over)dressed for success. (Did I mention that I was fired up?) All of the interviewers were friendly-looking middle-aged guys, and I was reassured.

Then I met my interviewer. He was about 25 years old, and he looked like one of those werewolf guys in the Twilight movies that they hire based on face alone. His name was something studly like Jordan or Josh, and he must have been six-foot-six at least.

The only point of that last paragraph is for you to understand that this guy was so attractive that it was awkward.

It would have been one thing if he were friendly-attractive. Friendly-attractive I can handle. The problem was that this guy (Jason? Jake? What was his name?) seemed to have the goal of interviewing me with as few words as he could possibly manage. I’ll provide you with a snippet from my own memory, and you can imagine the rest yourself. Or better yet, do not imagine it. Forget it completely.

J-STUD: So, Emily, tell me about your family.

EMILY: Um, like, what about them? I have one.

J-STUD: … Brothers? Sisters? Parents?

EMILY: All of the above! Ha ha… ha… ummm…

J-STUD: [Smoldering silence]

EMILY: Well I have a brother, and a sister, and several parents.

J-STUD: Tell me about them.

(You can see that he was restating the question there, therefore those words do not count as separate words in the Limited J-Stud Word Count.)

EMILY: Um, they have hair and faces and some features on those faces…

And that was pretty much how the whole interview went. I’m sure I ended with something eloquent like, “Thanks for time! Much pleased to talk, hope to have job summer!” Then I left.

When my friends asked how it went, I gave them a big smile and said I thought it went really well. I don’t think it was a lie at the time. It was just a very firm delusion. I had wowed J-Stud with my cleverly formed sentences and he was going to recommend me for the camp with the most children!

As I began to get some perspective on the interview, I realized with horror how truly idiotic I probably sounded. I think about 86% of how appalled I was at myself was based on the fact that I thought interviewing was something I could do really well on my own. Something I’d thought would be a strength ended up being a weakness here, and I was devastated.

I think that when God tells this story, He calls this Emily’s Period of Do-It-Yourselfishness. (Well, He probably has a much better title for it, but He’s God.)

That camp started calling people to offer them jobs in December. The first week they were hiring, one of the girls in my dorm got the call. I was really excited for her, because I knew she would be great for the job (and vice versa!). However, even though they were still going to be calling people for several weeks, I knew on that day that I didn’t get the job. Outwardly, I still expressed hope that they would hire me, but inside, I knew that they wouldn’t.

In January, I got an email saying that they were finished hiring. I didn’t make the cut.

Of course, since I am always flawlessly seeking God’s will over my own without any selfish ambition whatsoever, I accepted His answer of “no” on this one and, like David in 2 Samuel 7, praised God through my disappointment because I knew without a doubt that He had something better for me.

Psych! I didn’t do that. Not even sort of.

What I did do was take that “no” as a sign that God did not want to use me at all. Therefore, I avoided applying for anything else for fear of being rejected.

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, I chickened out. I decided not to apply for my church’s college leadership team. (Thankfully, our college leader Jeremy sent me a Facebook message encouraging me to apply, so I ended up doing so… see “God taking care of me despite me.”) I also decided against applying for Kanakuk, even though my much-adored friend/future roomie Hannah Norton (remember her, she is important) encouraged me to apply. She got the call to come work at K1 in the kitchen, and I was really pumped for her. Eventually, her offer got switched to the family kamp called K-Kauai, and she was ready to go.

And I was set for a summer of Wichita Falls.

I love Wichita Falls, of course, but at this point I was really regretting not applying to Kanakuk. I could have been working with Hannah in Missouri, growing closer to God, serving families, and making friends. Instead, fear was keeping me in a safety box (also known as a boredom box). I was excited to spend time with my family and the few friends who would be in town for the summer, but other than that, my summer was shaping up to be entirely adventureless.

So I said goodbye to my college friends, promised to write letters to Hannah while she was at kamp, and headed home. I had planned to spend the summer working at the job I’d held over Christmas, but I didn’t talk to my boss until I got back to Wichita Falls. I eventually went by the store, and it seemed that the job would work out. So for the first week and a half of summer, I waited to start back up at my old job.

As I waited, I diligently read my Bible and prayed that God would use me where I was, and help me to be content in my present circumstances.

Psych again! I didn’t do that either!

What I did could best be described as “general uselessness.” I watched the entire run of Parks and Recreation, plus two seasons of Ugly Betty. I slept. I ate. I waited for my brother and sister to get out of school. I hung out with them, and with a few of my good friends that I hadn’t seen in ages. But I didn’t work very hard to be content. To be completely honest, I wallowed. I wallowed and I stagnated.

But God was about to shake things up big time.

(Remember the inciting incident thing from earlier? We’re back to that now.)

On the Thursday of the second week of summer, I got a call from my boss. It turned out that things had shifted around at the store, and they wouldn’t be needing me after all. Totally understandable, of course, but I had no back-up.

Therefore, I freaked.

“I’ve got to get a job,” I panicked. “On Friday, I will go out and get an application from every establishment in town until I get hired. I have to get a job!”

Then, Hannah McMullen asked if I wanted to watch Pixar movies with her on Friday.

“I will go out and get an application from every establishment in town… on Saturday,” I decided.

It was a good decision. We had a great, relaxing day, and I was ready to go job-hunting on Saturday.

Or so I thought.

On Friday night, I sat down to talk to my parents about possible places to work. My mom suggested that I call Kanakuk and see if they had any spots open. I laughed (see Gen. 18:12) and said, “No way. They’ve probably got all their jobs filled. There’s no way they would hire me this late in the game.”

If you’d like, read that last sentence again. It’s a good one.

As I said those words, my phone rang (the phrase “God’s timing is perfect” extends to His comedic timing as well). I saw that the call was from Hannah Norton and squealed. I hadn’t talked to her in a while, and I wanted to know how kamp was going. But before I could ask her, she said words that I was certain were a joke.

“Hey Emily, do you want to come work at Kauai?”

“Umm… what?”

“Do you want to come work at Kauai with me?”

My mouth was hanging open. “If this is a joke…” I finally said.

“It’s not!” She assured me. They needed more kitchen workers (“kitchies”) and Hannah had suggested me. (The phrase “I owe you one” has new meaning now, trust me.)

“Let me hand you off to Dee,” Hannah said, and suddenly she was gone.

“Hello?” said an unfamiliar voice that I assumed to be Dee.

I managed a “hi,” still not really sure if this was really happening. Thankfully, I learned that I didn’t have to say much with Dee Goodwin.

“Hannah says you might want to work for us!” Dee said cheerfully. She explained a lot of things that I didn’t really understand about “12 kitchies instead of 10” and “nights off” and “two-fours” and how they would be happy to have me in the kitchen. I was ready to accept on the spot, but I told Dee that I’d have to talk to my parents and then call her back. She gave me her number and told me to call in about an hour. I told her I surely would, and hung up.

I sat there for a minute, and then just started laughing.

I should tell you that my favorite book in The Chronicles of Narnia is The Silver Chair. I love it because Eustace and Jill screw up Aslan’s instructions so thoroughly that they almost get eaten, but in the end Aslan makes it all work out to perfection.

When I got off the phone with Dee, the only thing I could think was, I’ve been living The Silver Chair.

I’d been discouraged and useless ever since I’d been rejected by the first camp. I had ignored God’s plans for His glory and elected to follow my plans for His plans for His glory.

But luckily for me, He is bigger than my mistakes, and His grace is greater than all of my sins.

I ran into the other room and told my parents about the offer, and that I really wanted to go. I would be there from May 29^th till July 7^th. Brian and Bethlyn gave their blessing, and I called Dee back and officially accepted the job.

“Great!” she said. “We’ll see you on Sunday!”

I was going to Kanakuk.

Have you ever seen a toddler, just out of floaties, jump off of a boat and into the icy cold water of the English Channel, intending to swim the whole thing? You haven’t? Of course you haven’t, because that would be idiotic. However, as a metaphor, it’s very effective to describe my first day in the kitchen.

We got into the kitchen at 7:15 that morning. Giant Bear, the personality that takes over my body when I am waking up in the mornings, was not pleased. I yearned to be friendly (I wanted these people to like me!), but Giant Bear was grumpily ruining everything.

 (Just to recap: first impression- very greasy, second impression- Giant Bear.)

We prayed for the day and then got started. Everyone jumped into action, and I clung to Hannah like… well, she’s the life raft in this analogy. We went back into the kitchen, and it was like when the kids first enter the chocolate factory in Willy Wonka. I gaped at all of the different machines and dishes and areas that I knew I would never be able to keep straight.

Hannah said she liked to “work on the Hobie,” which I thought was a little strange, since I still thought Hobie was a person. As it turns out, Hobie is the name of the dishwasher. He’s a huge machine that functions like a conveyor belt. A “sprayer” and a “loader” put the dishes on green racks and send them through, and an “unloader” takes the clean dishes out. She then sets them on a drying rack, whereupon a “drying rack” person takes them to where they belong. Hannah was on “unloader,” so I was on unloader too.

When I reached out to grab my first dish coming out of the steaming Hobie, Hannah warned, “Careful, it’s hot!”

What I thought she meant was, “Be careful, that might be a little tingly on your fingers!”

What she actually meant was, “Be careful, those dishes are currently burning with the fire of one thousand suns, and if you touch them right now you will literally lose your fingerprints!”

Needless to say, I can no longer be identified by my left hand.

This was only the first of the kitchen lessons that I would learn the hard way. Some of the others:

Green plates go on eight-top tables, but yellow plates go on ten-tops.

I cannot carry four bowls of salsa with two hands.

Similarly, I cannot carry twelve syrup dispensers with two hands. (I can carry ten, though!)

Wet cereal is not my favorite thing ever.

Making guacamole tableside is awkward.

I can fit in a high chair. However, being pushed around in it does not make sweeping floors any easier.

When filling up a mop bucket, you should keep an eye on it. If you don’t, it might get water all over the floor.

Now don’t worry, I didn’t learn these all on the first day! However, it is safe to say that I felt fairly incompetent for the first few weeks. But the thing I love about learning how to do a job is that you can’t pinpoint the day that you become good at it. One day you’re making tons of mistakes, and after a while, you suddenly realize that you’re not making those same dumb mistakes anymore. (At least, you’re not making them nearly as often.)

It’s a lot like that with making friends. One day you’re just laughing when everyone else laughs to fit in, and before you know it, you’re sharing your boy-getting dance with everyone.

Which brings us to the Trophy Wife Diet.

By this point, you’ve met some of the characters from the kitchen, but I owe it to the others to introduce them. Several of us tossed around the idea of a TV show all about the kitchen, and I maintain that it would be a most profitable venture indeed. We had it all in the kitchen this summer, and the fact that the fourteen of us managed to get a meal on the tables three times a day for eight weeks still amazes me.

Our boss, Sarah Yocum, is 23, and a lot like Bethlyn. She always does her best to follow the law, spirit and letter, and expected the same out of us. I often tossed out the words “Kitchen Nazi,” but in reality, I think she was a lot more fun than a Nazi would have been. Sarah is not a touchy-feely kind of girl. If someone needs to man up and get over something, she would not hesitate to tell her so. However, more often than not, she was ready to listen to a problem, offer a hug, and get the issue resolved. Sarah taught me that being proactive about conflict may be scary, but it is worth the confrontation to get the problem solved. I firmly believe that Sarah will get married to some wonderful mountain-man in the future, and end up with 12 children who are all exactly like me.

Second-in-command was head kitchie Anne Marie Kirk. I adore Anne Marie Kirk. We turned out to be a lot alike about a lot of things, and I was infinitely comforted to hear that some of my bizarre trains of thought were not necessarily unique to me. Being the head kitchies seems to be one of the hardest jobs in existence, but Anne Marie handled it with grace and perseverance. With Anne Marie, I experienced my deepest range of emotions. We belly-laughed together, and we bawled together, and together we survived it all. She was the Scarecrow to my Dorothy, and I miss her a ton.

The first kitchie I met at kamp was Challese Hall. She introduced herself to me when my eyes were as big as saucers, and was so helpful and patient as I fumbled around the kitchen in those early days. She also had a great sense of humor, at one point suggesting that she should marry Justin Bieber so that he could get “a little chocolate in his life.” That joke was a hall-of-famer for sure.

Speaking of Hall-of-Fame jokes, I don’t know if I’ve ever met a funnier person than Jessica Allen. She has this incredibly dry sense of humor that produces quotes like, “Don’t dilute the gene pool, Hillary,” and “When I’m pregnant, I’m probably going to call the baby ‘Fetus Face.’” She also has more muscle than anyone I know, but she doesn’t look like those creepy bodybuilder ladies from the Bowflex Infomercials. Underneath the jokes and muscles, though, Jessica has an unbelievable trust in God. I wish I could have the kind of faith that she has. Jess knows that God is going to take care of her no matter what, and it shows.

Jessica was also known as “Cha-lee” (as in, “Cha-lee bit me!”) courtesy of Katie Vaughn, one of the strongest women I have ever met in my life. On the surface, Katie is effervescent. She has a Vanna White quality about her where you know she’s infinitely more poised than you, but you like her anyway. She is a walking smile and a talking hug, and you just want to keep her with you at all times strictly for encouragement’s sake! Katie’s attitude of joy means even more because her childhood was less than candy canes and rainbows. But you’d never know it from talking to her. The best way I can sum her up? Katie’s a light.

The other Kate in the bunch was Katelynn Cordell. In the kitchen, she often worked quietly, and you could tell that wheels were turning in her head. She was thinking about bigger things than dishes and diets. We were lucky enough to see a glimpse of what she was thinking of during our bi-weekly Bible studies, when Katelynn would suddenly explode in a fireworks display of insight about James. Katelynn plans to go into the ministry and, honestly, with her passion for the Lord, I cannot see her doing anything else.

Another quiet spirit that I soon found to be afire with passion for Christ was the gorgeous Alissa Studer. She looks like one of those French girls that handsome American soldiers always carry off into the sunset in World War II movies, and she was incredibly even-keeled and hardworking. I’d always found it difficult to pinpoint what a gentle woman looked like, but I knew it when I saw it in Alissa. She and I became Bible Study buddies, and I was amazed at her dedication to the Word. She has encouraged me and challenged me to become not merely a hearer of the Word, but also a doer of the Word and a rememberer of the Word! Also, her silly voices never fail to crack me up.

From my pre-kamp life, there is (of course) Hannah Norton. Blessed with an insane work ethic and a brilliant brain, Hannah is a natural born leader. She has no problem coordinating a situation to perfection. However, at kamp, I got to see her stretch and grow in her following as well as her leading. She also has this quality that I keep trying to emulate (read: steal) of being able to be hilarious and still get the job done. Rooming with her this year, I intend to figure out how she does it.

I can’t talk about being hardworking without talking about Megan Sivcovich. Being a kitchie is hard work, and most people only possess the stamina to do it once. Not Megan. Megan has been a kitchie four times, and not always at Kauai (the only air-conditioned kamp). She’s crazy dedicated. She is ambitious and committed to her dreams, and I do believe that God is going to use her big time.

My bunkmate and one of the cheeriest people I know is Heather Sapp. She’s been at Kauai for several years as well (I can’t remember if it’s four or five!) and has done almost every job at kamp. Heather is definitely a count-it-all-joy kind of girl, an encourager, and one of those rare people who is willing to share her struggles in order to help others through theirs. You can usually find Heather with a smile on her face and a song in her heart.

Elle Woods does exist, and she loves Jesus a lot, and her name is Lauren Chapman. It’s impossible to dislike Lauren Chapman. She is absolutely beautiful (she looks like Reese Witherspoon), and she is working on being Christlike 24/7. She is always smiling, and she has this little Tinker-Bell laugh that is totally contagious. She is the epitome of genuine. Lauren thinks through every step of what she is going to say or do before she says or does it. If I were in a crisis, I would want Lauren Chapman at my side.

Speaking of people I would want to have with me in a crisis, Sarah Thompson is not one. When I first became friends with Sarah Thompson, one of the things I loved the most was how easy it was to be around her. We could talk serious one minute and then “juff blump around” the next. She is a walking ray of sunshine, and so intentional about growing closer to God and investing in families. “Emily!” you may exclaim. “Why wouldn’t you want this wonderful human being with you in a time of crisis?” Three words: Walk In Freezer.

You need to understand this right away: I am petrified of the walk in freezer. I’ve seen enough crime shows to know that more than one innocent passerby has suffered a cruel death inside a walk-in freezer. But as afraid as I am of the walk in, Sarah is exponentially more terrified. Of course, I had no knowledge of this until one day, Sarah and I went in to fetch some juice. We purposely propped the door open, and one of the cooks, Natalie (who I love despite this day) came by and slammed it shut, just to be funny/cruel. I was nervous, but I knew it would open just fine from the inside. Sarah Thompson, on the other hand, turned, saw the door, and unleashed a scream the likes of which has never been heard before and likely never shall be again. I could hear dogs barking in the distance, for this shriek encompassed all registers of sound. She proceeded to jump up and down, waving her arms like an old white guy dancing. I pushed past her and opened the door with ease. She exhaled deeply, and then grabbed the juice and walked out.

This is pretty standard for Sarah Thompson. You’d never think it from knowing her, but Sarah is the dictionary definition of paranoid. An actual quote: “Emily, what if terrorists took over America and wanted to torture us? They’d have to use the stuff we already have here, and I don’t want to get my hand blended.” Me: “Blended? As in, blender blended?” Sarah: “Yes.” Paranoia aside, Sarah Thompson is one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met, and I miss her immensely already.

Another one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met is Ashley Redus. Ashley is so beautiful: beachy blonde hair, striking blue eyes, tan skin, white smile, and perfectly petite. She looks like a commercial for toothpaste and Carnival Cruise Lines and Kanakuk all rolled into one. But much more important than that is Ashley’s heart. She is one of the most amazing girls I’ve met as far as seeking the Lord’s will goes. You get the feeling that if God told her to pack up for Africa tomorrow, she’d do it. Also, she makes me laugh so much. I hated dish duty, but if Ashley was on with me, I would actually rejoice. We had a system down pat for doing dishes, and she was the captain and I was first mate. I would fill a sink with water and scrub cereal bowls, and Ashley would do plates and platters. Any time a new stack of bowls would come in, Ashley would delight in yelling “Bombs away!” and tossing them into the sink, splashing us both with dishwater. By the time the meal was finished, both of us would be soaked to the bone, but so happy.

Last, but certainly not least, is Hillary Smith. If “sparkly” could describe a person, it would be Hillary Smith. She is a bubble of energy and fun, and she’s one of those people that everybody knows. She’s a relationships person, and you can tell that she makes an impact by spending time with people. Her happiness is contagious, and God uses her to light up the lives of those around her daily.

I can’t wrap up the kitchen cast without talking about the cooks. Royce, their fearless leader, reminds me of Rabbit from Winnie the Pooh: sometimes grumpy, always lovable, and always getting the job done. Natalie, the second in command, is the kind of person that people want to know. She is hilarious and crazy, and the only one in her family who had not participated in a reality show! There was also Lyndsie, a real-life Disney princess. She is beautiful and insanely hardworking! There was Megan, who is bubbly and eager to learn. She and I had different nicknames for each other every day, from Monkey Bars to Mario Kart and Eggplant to Elbow. There was Alicia, quiet at first but soon revealing a sweet cheerleader personality underneath, and there was Taylor, always working hard with a big smile on. They rounded out the kitchen crew.

I did get to know people outside the kitchen, but these people were my core group. God had a particular reason for putting each of us there, and together we got the job done and grew closer to God and to each other.

I really miss the kamp people, too. This summer, I met some of the funniest people that I think I will ever meet in my life. First and foremost, I was lucky enough to know Kyler and Diana, the programs directors. Kyler and Diana were really close friends throughout college, and they started dating last fall. Within months, they were engaged. In May, they got married. They went on their honeymoon, and then came straight to kamp. That was where I met them.

They’re so cute together. Kyler is tallish, skinny, and very all-American. Diana is short, half-Asian, and all smiles. One of the reasons that I know there is a God is that these two were absolutely made for each other. They’re a comedy dream team. At mealtime, if we were lucky, there would be a chant that got started: “Dance, Kyler, dance! Dance, Kyler, dance!” We’d all rush out of the kitchen for fear of missing the beginning of “Gummy Bears” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Smd1hsE9TCk) or “Bad” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fWSwkV8TE44). As Kyler would descend from the stage, sweating and gasping, another chant would begin: “Minja story! Minja story!” Diana would run up on stage and tell everyone a funny story about her mom, Minja, who is Korean and adorable. Some crowd favorites included “Tookips” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lGlimcq5eUA&feature=related) and, my personal favorite, “The Snake Story” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SK2tVWQYrRk&feature=related).

Kyler and Diana were more than hilarious, though. They also have a heart for people. As Programs directors, Kyler and Diana were in charge of the big skit night, also known as “Gospel Walk.” They wrote and produced a heartwarming, funny series of sketches pointing kids back to Christ, wrapped up beautifully by Doug Goodwin, our head director. I was lucky enough to talk to one mom whose daughter accepted Christ on the night of Gospel Walk, and this little girl was just one of many. God gave both Kyler and Diana such wonderful gifts, and then gave them to each other to bring those gifts out even more.

Speaking of married couples with God-given gifts, I can’t leave out head director Doug Goodwin and his wife, women’s director Dee Goodwin. Doug, or “Goodie,” is a great leader with an eye for details that makes the Kauai experience what it is. Dee was the first staff person I talked to, and she became a great source for me over the summer. Dee is fun, wise, and easy to talk to. During the year, Dee and Goodie are raising four God-fearing kids together, but during the summer, they also become parents to dozens of college students (us staffers) and leaders to couples and families from all over the country. God is doing huge, huge things through the Goodwins.

And who can forget the incomparable GT? GT’s real name is Geoff Todd, and he is the men’s director for Kauai. If he wasn’t so good at being men’s director, GT would probably get snatched up by the music industry to become the white version of LeCrae. He records the kamp rap, which was about the book of James this year, and the kamp theme, which was called Protect This Hut, and they are “sick” (in the good way that awesome songs are “sick”). He is also incredible on the basketball court. But what really sets GT apart is his intentionality with the guys and the families. “Intentionality” is one of the Kanakuk buzzwords, and it really boils down to seeking out others in a way that draws them closer to Christ. Along with his beautiful wife and adorable daughter, GT is making a splash for Christ at kamp.

The leaders weren’t the only great personalities. There was the enthusiastic Amanda, who had us all in stitches with her engagement story. There was Seth, who could impersonate Harry Carey to a T and who spent a week investing solely in a disabled kid. There was the gracious Jena, who eagerly gave us a golf cart ride because the Office girls were so tired of doing it. There was Tyler, who courteously played along with a very funny practical joke on Sarah Thompson. There was sweet, sweet Julia, who was kind and funny and beautiful like a Bible-fashion-magazine hybrid. There was the maintenance quartet, whom the kitchies loved to torture (good-naturedly!) about taking out our trash. There was Bethany, one of the most comfortable conversationalists I’ve ever met (and so good with babies, too!). There was crazy Sean, who once stayed through his break helping us on our hardest day of the summer: the day Hobie broke. There was “Bean Queen” Erica, who always greeted me in the coffee shop with a sweet, genuine “how are you?” There was Will, who played the Eu-fun-ium. There was Brandon, who shared what he was learning with the whole staff and always made us laugh. There was Mallory, who is the very textbook-definition of God-given joy. There was Wes, who agreed with me that Texas could be its own country and therefore won my friendship forever. There was Judson, who caught a eight-pound fish with a bow and arrow (am I allowed to tell people about that?), and Andrew, the fearless and tireless videographer, and Elise, who turned out to be my kindred spirit. There was Matt, the kitchies’ pseudo-brother, and Michael, who brought smiles to the kitchen every morning at snacktime. There was LaBuda, who was kind to the kitchies despite our constant teasing, and Mark, who made me try ice cream with Lucky Charms (which turned out to be pretty good!), and the other Mark, who could fit his whole body through a plastic clothes-hanger. I’ve barely even begun to mention all of the wonderful people I met this summer, but this is the world’s longest paragraph. Suffice it to say that Kauai is chock full of people that God is using for great, great things.