ForewordI'm going to tell you about camp now. Some of you might look at this post with an, "Oh my goodness. She is crazy." attitude. It was church camp, after all. Also, what I'm going to say is what I said when I shared what my experience was that week with my team. That and I'm adding a few things. Hope you enjoy it. Here goes.
For the past couple months I haven't really been going to church or youth group. My usual excuse was that I had too much homework, or that I felt sick, and while those things weren't exactly lies, they did tend to stretch the truth. My brother would come home from youth group and tell me about how much everyone missed me, but I didn't really care. I felt like I was losing my emotion. On the last day of eighth grade. when I was saying goodbye to all my friends, everyone was crying except me. I didn't really miss anyone. Not my friends that I was going to see next year, not my boyfriend, and especially not my friends that were going to different schools. A lot of what I did was what I felt like people expected. I wasn't sad. I was indifferent. I felt like I had lost my emotion.
But then I came to camp. I didn't really feel like anything was different, being up there and all. The only thing was that the people were much friendlier. (Evidenced by the two friends I made up there that weren't in my cabin and weren't other Indies.) It was there that I felt my emotion re-surging. I had brought some of the pictures from my school dance along with me, and as I was looking at them one night, I felt a pang of longing. I missed my friends. Then, early Wednesday night, I got a voicemail from Campbell. It was basically him telling me that if I wanted to talk to him it was now (Tuesday night) or never, because he was leaving Wednesday morning. As soon as I was done listening to it, I began to miss him painfully. He was really gone for two whole weeks, with no way to contact him.
That wasn't the most important thing that happened, though. Wednesday night was also worship experience night. I went around with my cabin to several different places where we worshiped in ways other than just singing songs. In one of the rooms, you were asked to make up your own psalm to God. (Like the book in the Bible.) On the wall where you were supposed to write, I wrote, "He's still there. He's still there. He's still there. Waiting." Lately, I had been wondering if God was even there. I couldn't feel Him, or anything else for that matter.
The Worship Experience ended in singing songs of praise in the ampitheatre where we met every night for our lesson. It was there, while everyone was singing "Amazing Grace" where I started crying. I shed what is probably the most tears that I've ever shed in my entire life. I just kept crying. I loved it. I felt God in that moment right there. As I was shedding my tears I kept thinking, "It's back. My emotion is back. God is here."
For the rest of the night, and most of the next day, I kept thinking about that moment. That night during our evening gathering the camp split off into our separate teams to take communion. Before we did that, in our smaller groups, we were asked to share our stories. Never, in my entire life, have I stood up and shared. That night I did. I told everyone my story.
My story doesn't stop with just what I said there, though. After whoever wanted to share was finished, we took communion. Being my usual self, I was just sitting where I was waiting for the line to die down so I could go up when my friend Parkher came up behind me and asked if he could pray for me. I'v never been prayed for by one of my friends before. It was an amazing experience. It was a very pure expression of love and caring by someone I had just met a day or two ago. I mean it when I say that he is one of the nicest people I have ever met. God is going to great things with that boy.
Anyway, I also learned a few things while I was at camp. Like, what it really means to put your arm around someone and what it really means to hold someone's hand. The fact that Christians can come in all shapes and sizes was solidified as well. I can say, without a doubt, that my week at Lakeview this year was the best week at camp that I've ever had. I will never forget the people I met or the things that I did.
Afterword
So that's camp, I guess. Everything you needed to know is contained in those paragraphs, and, in case you were wondering, I'll have a post up concerning the Bro-Am in a few days. Just be patient kids. Also, here are some shots I took at camp.
That's all, my little weasels.
Nova.