Daunting, to say the least

The longer my life continues and I don't blog, the more I avoid it, thinking that there's just too much to say. I'm sure many parallels and comparisons can be drawn from that feeling, but I'm not going to. Instead, I'm going to try to begin to blog about my summer.

First, remember that people who live by the school calendar consider summer to be the time between when school gets out in May or June and school begins in August or September. Camp people consider summer to be the time between when camp starts in May or June and when camp ends in July or August. Therefore, camp people come to the end of their summers before school people do, and school people end their summers before the calendar does. When I refer to summer, I'm probably referring to the time that has passed between the first week of June (when school got out) and now (because I can't very well blog about the rest of it, now can I?).

Secondly, my summer progressed along three distinct yet intertwining lines: my first summer in the wilderness of Maine, my first summer away from Michigan and Grace, and the summer that my beloved Grandpa Raws passed away. You'll see that I reflect from these three places throughout my posts.

Thirdly, I'm not going to try to recap the summer here (be thankful for that). However, as I think of things to share, I'll post them. Pictures from the entire time can be found at my Flickr page - http://flickr.com/photos/amy_richardson.

Now... where to begin... perhaps a bit of first impressions.

Jackman, Maine is the place to be.






To get to Moose River Outpost, you drive 4 hours north in Maine, 2 hours off the highway, and perhaps more significantly - 2 hours past the nearest Wal-Mart. The scenery is beautiful, and there are moose.




This summer I was continually reminded of God's power and sovereignty as I experienced only part of the vast spectrum of his creation - from the ocean to the mountains. While personally I struggled through some things (to be described later), it was assuring to know that the God who made Maine was also in control of my seemingly small existence.