Campers, Chickens, and Hot Air Balloons (Part 4)

Oh my! I am so sorry it has taken me so long to finish the last part of this blogging series! I had totally forgotten about it until... well... now. It is going to take me awhile to rewind that far back in my mind, but let me try. Actually, I think I am going to extend this series for you because I wrote a paper for my English class about our last week of camp, so I'll probably post that separately. Hopefully that will shorten the length of this post. (Which I'm sure would be nice for you all, but it would certainly be nice for me. My fingers get tired!)



We had been warned about the second to last week of camp: Boy's Week by the director of the week before. I realize this is not the forum to vent certain frustrations, but I will say that there were plenty of them. On top of working with difficult adults, we were working with about 30 hyperactive, 4th-7th grade boys. Oh boy(s).

This week was probably the most difficult, but I'm sure it was even moreso for the guys as us girls got to hang out by ourselves during cabin time, and drive to the home we were staying at evey night. (Being boys week, there was no point in us staying overnight when we had no cabin to look over.) The stresses were high, the frustrations were high, and the focus on ministry was very low.

Looking back on this week, I wish I could have done it over. I was so angry with people that I forgot why I was at this camp in the first place. I was not there to make people happy. Really, I wasn't there to run games or music or teach lessons help out with crafts or tell boys what they can or cannot do. I was there to love God and love His children. Though there is no doubt in my mind that God can and will use what happened in that week for His own glory, it is rather difficult for me to look back and recognize the fact that I did not do what I had been called to.

I wish I had some funny stories to tell about this week, but it has been awhile, and most of the things that I do remember I should probably not write about.

Being this was the second to last week of camp and the worst week yet, us counselors were not looking forward to our last week together this summer. We had met the director for girl's week two weeks prior. I guess you could say her motto was, "cleanliness is next to godliness!" as she made clear to us at our initial meeting. Before we even had time to think about what we were going to wear the first day that week (our red camp shirts that we wore every week), she already had a list of every other minor detail that could not be less important going into a week of camp. So, needless to say, we were more than a little discouraged that the very end of our summer was going to turn out so bad. I think we were even more disappointed that God did not seem to be working in any of the lives of the kids we met the whole summer. I prayed the whole week before that God would change our attitudes about the week we were about to face. It was the Thursday night before that I finally surrendered my work to Him. I realized that there was nothing I could do or plan to change lives. It is all His power. I let go of all my plans and ideas and let God lead the way. Only then were we really able to see Him working. It is still amazing to me how when we really pray to God in humility and surrenderance how big He answers our prayers. I don't think any of us were prepared for what we saw Him do that last week...

Campers, Chickens, and Hot Air Balloons (Part 3)

Yes, I have finally made it back to tell you the third part of my story, and I know you are thrilled! I apologize if I am not as detailed with my stroytelling as I have been. It has been a few weeks, and I am much older now and tend to forget things much quicker than before. So, where was I?....



The third week of camp was youth missions week. This week, we were given a mission project to work on helping an elderly lady around the outside of her house. This lady was so kind and patient with all of us (all 6 counselors and 11... then 10... then 9... then 8 kids). The first day we spent doing yard work: raking leaves, picking up trash, pulling weeds, etc. The next few days we spent painting her house.



May I just pause to say that this was a dream come true for me! When I was little (like, still watching Barney little)my dream was to be a house painter when I grew up (or a taxi cab driver, but I don't see that one happening anytime soon).



Anyways, we had 7 girls and 1 boy by the end of the week, and most of them were not very happy to be there. The whole time we heard complaints about when we were going to leave, or wanting to do something else. It was very discouraging for us, who had been called to serve these kids all summer, to hear the selfishness that came out of their mouths. We became broken about the hearts of these kids who did not know how to show great love because they didn't know the greatest love of all. We all met every day to pray and talk about what we could do to bring these kids where they needed to be for God to work in their lives. We just wanted a serious response from these kids that we had not gotten thus far. The night after our big prayer meeting, we all settled down for cabin devotions. The kids had apparently been led in a great campfire devotion by one of the other counselors (I was unfortunately unpresent), because when we got settled for our devotion time, they all started asking some really great serious questions about God and the Bible and what is true and why... As difficult as it was to answer some of their questions, it was so sweet and encouraginging to know that they were really thinking about spiritual things.

The fourth week of camp was music week. This was probably one of the best organized weeks of camp. If it were not for all of the camper drama, it would have been one of the best weeks. The kids spent a lot of time learning about music theory (basic basic stuff) and practicing songs for their performance at the end of the week. Because teaching music takes a considerable amount of talent, the director for the week took charge of this part of the week. It was very nice to be able to take a break and chill in a quiet, air conditioned room. The director for this week was so real, so down to earth, so helpful, so kind and patient, so nice... I can't say enough good things about her! I almost felt bad that she had to deal with everything that she did!

The kids we were working with this week were in 4th-7th grade. It was difficult to stop all of the matchmaking that went on among some of the more immature ones. There was no need for these 10 year olds to have "boyfriends" or "girlfriends," yet it seemed like all conversation seemed to revolve around that exact subject. On top of that, we had a lot of hypochondriacs (mostly girls). So many kids "needed" band-aids and tylenol... too many. This caused a lot of problems, even with some parents.

So, I've been waiting to talk to you about the last part of the title of this series, and I'm sure you have been to. During this week, we were able to take the kids off the camp site to a field nearby where, every year during this time, all of the local hot air balloon pilots gather and give people rides in tethered balloons. (They only go up about 50 feet and then come back down.) It was our job (as summer missionaries and humble servants) to help out the pilots where they needed it. For the first part of the evening, two of the other girls and I helped out holding the very heavy balloon filled with hot air down to the ground with the wind working in the oposite direction. We tried our hardest not to fail, but I'm sure the people we were working with were glad to get rid of us, because two of us and one of the guys were sent to help another pilot who was not giving rides, but actually flying. So, the three of us, who had never before been in a hot air balloon before, helped put it together. Who knew it was so complicated!? There were so many steps and parts and things to do, and it was all so heavy! After we assembled the balloon, then we got to ride in it! (This is how they test to make sure that you constructed it correctly.) I got the honor of riding from one field to another across some powerlines and landing back on the ground sideways. The pilot didn't seemed too concerned about it, though, so I decided not to be either. This was probably one of the greatest highlights of my summer: crashing in a hot air balloon.

It was quite a long week, drama included. However, we had completed more than half of our summer and only had two weeks left! Whoo-Hooo! :)

Return soon for the conclusion of our four part series...

What's the Plan?

I thought perhaps I'd take a break from writing about camp. It's a subject that needs motivation to write about, and right now, I'm motivated in another direction. In a way, though, I guess I am sort of gonna talk about camp anyways, or at least something I learned while I was there. I want to talk about evangelism.


Every time I hear that word, I shutter. Perhaps it is wrong of me. It's not that I don't enjoy seeing people come to know Christ! I can think of no greater thing to be excited about! The process of sharing the gospel with someone, though, is, truth be told, less than that. (Now, before you write me off as a heathen and a heretic, let me finish.) I will be the first to admit that I do not have the gift of evangelism. When it comes to explaining the process by which we come to God, I am left fumbling for words. It's embarrassing for me to say that I am no good at explaining something that is such a big part of my life! Perhaps that's why I shutter: because I'm embarrassed. Perhaps it's because I'm fearful of what people might say or think. Whatever it is, it is something I have been faced with this summer, when I realized the need for the gospel in the lives of these kids.


It seemed like we had a schedule for everything at camp this summer: wake up, go to sleep, eat food, play games, go swimming, take showers... you name it, we had a time slot for it. I guess I kind of assumed then that sharing the gospel should have a time slot as well. It only seemed appropriate that it be shared on the fourth night of camp, just like it's done in VBS and every other organized church event. However, after it had not been shared for two weeks after the first week, us counselors kind of figured we were expected to pick up the ball that had been dropped. I tried sharing the plan of salvation in my cabin during our devotion time before bed for a couple weeks, but we didn't see any fruit from it. The next week, I shared the gospel during the campfire, but again, it was fruitless. It was discouraging to see nothing happen. Nobody was saved, nobody was convicted of sin, nobody cared. It was that night after the campfire that I cried out to God asking Him for help. I knew that I could never come up with the right words to say to reach these kids. I knew that there was nothing I could do to make them draw close to God. but I knew that God was able to open up hearts and fill my mouth with His word. So I asked Him to do just that. I surrendered all of my planning and strategies and asked Him to guide every action, every conversation, everything that would happen the following week.


The next week i had no plan as to what to do my evening devotions on. I would think of a couple ideas throughout the day, and ask God to lead our cabin conversation in the way he wanted it to go. Oh boy, did He take us places! Starting the first night, my campers bombarded me with questions about God and salvation and baptism and creation and everything else under the sun! I hope that God spoke to their hearts, because I don't even remember half of the things that came out of my mouth in response to many of the tough questions they were asking. This happened every night, but through it I was able to speak about what it meant to be saved and what it meant to have a relationship with Christ. The second-to-last night (may I just say that God is so good! He knows what He's doing!), all of our conversation and questions led right into a gospel presentation. Unlike the other weeks when I felt like the conversation just dropped after I was done speaking, though, they continued to ask questions and share thoughts about salvation. It was so exciting for me to witness how God was working in their hearts! We stayed up an extra hour and a half talking about God's free gift of eternal life through the sacrifice of His Son.


You know, sometimes it amazes me how shocked we are when God does what He promises to. I had asked God to take over the week and lead it toward Him, and He did exactly that. I gave up all that I had planned and expected to DO and let Him MINISTER to these kids. I was so caught up in the schedule of things that I had not relied on Him to take us where we needed to go, but when I surrendered myself to Him to do what He pleased, then He did great things not only in the lives of these kids, but it my life as well. I am so excited to be able to say that God did amazing things that week. We were able to talk to many of the campers that week about what God was doing in their lives and found that He was working in their hearts and convicting them of many different things. It's exciting for me to say that we even saw some come to know Christ as their Savior!

Through all of the happenings of that week compared to the weeks prior, I learned that "evangelism" is not a specific speech you say at a specific time. Instead, it is the constant lifestyle and conversation that points to Christ and what He has done for us. I learned that, though it is important to be purposeful in your speech and manner, it is also important to be mindful of God and where He is leading and to rely on Him for all sources of wisdom and strength. It is Him to does the work anyways. We are just privileged to be His tools.

Campers, Chickens, and Hot Air Balloons (Part 2)

(Before I continue with my story, I would like to give a short intro) Right now it is almost 2 in the morning, and although I will have to get up at 6:30, I am still awake. "Why?" you may ask: because.... I GOT A NEW LAPTOP!!!! I am SOOOO excited right now! Each keystroke fills my heart with greater excitement! Anyways, I still should probably not be up at this hour, but I am, so I figured I would spend my time continuing my account of camp:

The second week of camp was 2nd and 3rd grade week. This was the only short week of the year, only going from Sunday to Wednesday. If it had gone on any longer, I think we all would have died. Each Sunday afternoon, we would arrive at camp an hour before the campers could check in. (If you're thinking that an hour is not enough time to be given instructions on our responsibilities for the week, you are absolutely right.) In this time, our director for the week (yes, the director changes EVERY week, only causing more stress and confusion on our part) came out of the "staff cabin," handed each of us a folder with a 5 page schedule in it, turned right back around, and went back inside. Coming from the great experience we had last week, it was quite a shock to know that we would be in charge of running all activities, beginning in less than an hour. This included puppets, crafts, Bible story time, music, (because we HAD to have a program to perform for all the parents), games, devotions, and everything in between. With no help from the director (in fact, we barely even SAW the director), we were pretty stressed.

The highlight of that week was our first trip to the miniature horse farm. Bless the lady's heart that owns all of these horses! I have never met a more proud, dedicated horse owner (granted, I haven't met barely any horse owners, but that's beside the point). We were informed that we were not to call these horses "ponies" because they were not "ponies," they were horses (oh, except for the one miniature donkey, but we were told not to tell her she's a donkey, because it hurts her feelings!) Among the horses were Joe, a champion stallion, FWR Midnight Sneekers, and, our personal favorite, Coupon! After the 2 hour tour, we all climbed back onto the tractor trailer that we had riden on (of course, the director drove her own vehicle), and crossed back over the highway to get to camp! This was the first of four trips to the horse farm, and it didn't get any more interesting than that. So, I guess looking back on the week, there aren't a lot of dramatic stories to tell after all, but that doesn't mean it didn't have it's stressful moments!

Tune in next time for the continuation of... "Campers, Chickens, and Hot Air Balloons!"

Campers, Chickens, and Hot Air Balloons (Part 1)

Ahhhhh! For the past 7 weeks of my life, I've been working at a small, rustic camp in a small, country town in southern Virginia, and that is all I have to say. Had I any idea what I would be getting myself into, I might have thought twice about accepting the position, but I was young and naive then. So, here I am 7 weeks older, and ready to spill all the dirty details of my time at camp!

The first week we spent getting the camp cleaned up and ready for the rest of the summer. This included moving 8,000- let me repeat: 8,000- expired bottles of gatorade that had been graciously donated to the camp by another organization. Of course, wouldn't you know that the day we had to move the gatorade, God would make it rain. I've always said there's no better way to start off a summer of camp than drenched in water, sweat, and mud! (Actually, I've never said that until now.) Anyways, being that none of us workers knew each other, it was an awkwardly silent week, which only added to the intimidation I already felt.

Of the group, I was the least experienced. I had never worked at a camp before, I had only finished my first year of school, and had no clue what I was doing. I felt overwhelmed. It was on one of these days that God brought me to Psalm 127 where it says, "Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it; unless the Lord guards the city, the watchman stays awake in vain." I realized that if I relied on my own efforts to get me through the summer, I would be defeated. God was calling me to trust Him and rely on Him for strength. If I wanted anything to be done successfully, I had to be fully dependent on Him. When I realized this, I gained such a peace. I no longer had to worry about being the youngest or the least experienced. I didn't have to worry about anything, because God was in charge, not me. (Later would I learn that I was not the youngest, nor the only one who felt like they didn't know what they were doing.)

That first week we spent with the camp manager and her husband and her 12 year old daughter. When we (the other 2 girl counselors and I) hopped into the truck with this lady and her daughter, the first words to me from this girl were, "Do you like chickens?" I guess it would be helpful for you to know that fowl frighten me. Yes, to my own admittance and embarrassment, I am afraid of birds. (Why is a long story that I have no time to go into if I am to explain all the happenings of more than a month, so I will leave that for another day and entry.) So, when I recieved this question, I nervously smiled and chuckled it off, hoping she wasn't looking for a serious answer. She then proceeded to tell me all about the pet chickens that she had at home that she would love to show us. Being in a small, rural town, I guess I shouldn't have been as shocked and suprised when we pulled onto a dirt road leading to their farm, but, like I said, I was young and naive. As soon as we got out of the truck, we were led to the side of the house where the chickens are. This girl let out all of the chickens (about a dozen of them), picked one up, and brought it over to us to pet. I could imagine in my mind the bird snapping off my finger with its beak as I reached to pet it, but I gulped down my heart that was now in my throat, and reached out to pet it anyways. It didn't bite me; it didn't even look at me. Praise the Lord, I was safe! We then proceeded into the house, manouvering over about 40 cats (no exaggeration there. seriously: 40 cats). I guess it would also be nice to inform you that I am moderately allergic to cats. It was then that I knew that God had a sense of humor to send me to a place where I had to try my hardest to avoid cats and chickens!

The first official week of camp was awesome. We had some great directors come in. They really had a great vision for the week and had worked really hard on preparing everything before the week started. They assigned each of us one Bible study lesson to teach during the week and a class to teach each day. One group of us taught an acting class and was given a list of objectives and activities. Another pair taught an improv class and was given the same thing. I was one of the luck pair who got to teach the "creative movement" class. Now, I know you can't see me from your computer screen, but I promise you, I am white inside and out, and there aint no way I will ever be able to move creatively, much more teach others to! We were given no objectives, no activities, no nothing. We were told to give the kids samples of music and ideas on what they could do to the music, and let them create a routine to perform for the parents at the end of the week. Luckly, understanding the position she had put us in, the director helped out the class a lot, and the kids came up with some great ideas and routines. All in all, it was a sucessful very-first-week-ever as camp couselor. We ended the week ready for the weekend, but eager to know what the next week would bring. Had we know what it did bring, we would not have been so eager...

TO BE CONTINUED!