Things I Learned At Camp

I left camp on Saturday morning. Looking back, I learned a few things. I'm still learning them.

I learned that God's strength can permeate every area of my life. Above my bed I hung the words from Psalm 44, "It was not by their sword that they won the land, nor did their arm bring them victory; it was Your right hand, Your arm, and the light of Your face, for You loved them." I used to have it hanging over my desk at Love180. As I woke, I read that verse. I had quoted it many times, but it had never been so true in my life until this summer.

Physically, I was weak. I needed God's strength. I had to have it, or I wasn't going to make it through the day. I had migraines, headaches, dizziness; I was hot, dehydrated, drained. I went to bed at 11:15pm and got up at 6:30am for eight weeks straight. I was outside all day being active in the hot sun. My heart skipped beats. God was my strength. He was my shade at my right hand (Ps. 121). He calmed my heartbeat. He strengthened me physically.

Emotionally, I was weak. I dealt with issues from campers. I was drained from the intensity of camp week after week. God gave me strength. I didn't just get by; somehow I had the energy every day to invest in girls' hearts.

Spiritually, I was weak. I got a two hour break in twenty-four in which to shower, call home, and spend time with Jesus (and often lie down for a nap for a couple minutes). It wasn't enough. My time in the Word was often rushed. I didn't get a chance to soak it in, or sit and process. God was my strength. His Spirit spoke to my heart. He drew me close.

I learned to be thankful. The heat, the tiredness, the inopportune tornado warnings, the busyness, the lack of sleep: it all got to me, and I was ungrateful. I complained about everything if campers weren't within earshot. But thanks to my dear friend, Ashley, who called me out on it, I started being grateful. I started thanking God for every breeze that cut through the scorching, thick air. I thanked Him for the raindrops that cooled my skin. I thanked Him for moments in air conditioning while we watched skits. I thanked Him for the privilege of leading these circles of girls. I thanked Him for my air conditioned cabin every night.

I learned again joy in salvation. God is faithful; going into camp I was asking that my joy of salvation be refreshed. I've grown up in a Christian home, and I gave my life to Christ when I was 6 so sometimes the gospel can start to get "old" in a way. God restored my joy as I had the honor of praying with girls to be saved at camp and as I was reminded through a book I had borrowed about the depth of being born again (Finally Alive by John Piper). Each Wednesday was salvation day at camp. The gospel story never bored me. Wednesdays were my favorite day. It remained fresh.

. . . and I'm still learning.

Thank You, God, for my time at camp and for being faithful in speaking to my heart and teaching me.