29 July 2008


Another reason I love my dear husband is the summer he spent as an EFY counselor. There is something very special about a person who is willing to spend an entire summer helping masses of hormone driven adolescents to know Jesus. I cherish great respect for all former EFY counselors.

That said, I'd like to share some random thoughts about EFY and former counselors.

Being obnoxious seems to endear some kids to the leaders and other youth. As long as you are funny obnoxious and not stupid obnoxious.

As a mildy agoraphobic teenager, I learned from other girls that a diffuser is a blowdrier attachment that enables one to make her hair curlier. Getting up before the crack of dawn to use this tool will make all three other roommates very angry (But the mildly agoraphobic one won't say anything. She'll just stew in her anger while not sleeping. I'm all about stewing anger rather than pouring it into everyone else's dish). The carefully attained curl will look good in front of the hot guys all through breakfast. The hair will then be sweated into tangly oblivion before 8:00 a.m. while hiking to the classes for the day.

It's best not to hang out in a group of all former EFY counselors. They will start talking amongst themselves and telling inside jokes, laughing histerically about things you don't understand, sending you back to your uncomfortable, isolated, agoraphobic teenage years. You might start stewing in anger again, which you thought you didn't do anymore.

As wife of a former EFY counselor there is a distinct possibility that I will run into a beautiful, well coiffed woman whose face lights up at the sight of my husband in a variety of random places, such as Walmart, the mall, the beach, or a remote mountain top in Nepal. The likelihood of this occurring increases in direct relation to how frumpy I look that day.


The Rookie said...

That just makes me smile and connect with you even moreso. While I never went to nor counseled for EFY, I too hate that my adolescent agoraphobia (complete with anger-stewing) which was assumed to have ended somewhere shortly after my high school graduation, seems to flare up at the worst moments.

And, for the record, I use a diffuser because it makes my curl less of a sweated, frizzy, tangled oblivion for the duration of the day.

Hey It's Di said...

Darn! I'm feeling bad that I never got to go to EFY;)

The Yoder's Three said...

I went to BYU ballet camp two summers in a row. Thankfully we only had to deal with counselors at night. I think I would have gone insane. I'm actually still friends with a couple of girls I met there. I think the sports/dance camps are more conducive to bonding than EFY, since you have more in common than just your age (and there were no boys to impress in the dance studio). Just a theory.

I was such an awkward teen, too, especially socially. I am happy to have those days behind me.

And you're not frumpy. You're brilliant.