Camp Story

So I'm back from camp. Whew! That was kind of rough on the old bones. They had those kids going non-stop from 7:30 am to 11 pm and beyond. I usually have a problem falling asleep at night; not this week. I couldn't wait to hit the bed.

Overall, we had about 120 or so campers. I had 11 boys in my cabin who had just finished the 3rd grade. One of them accepted Christ at the end of the week. Ironically, it was the kid I stayed up real late with the first night, because he was crying, wanting to go home.

I had 2 assistant counselors, one was a upcoming 9th grade white boy; and the other a black guy who was going into the 11th grade. I mention the colors because it played a positve role throughout the week.

The age of kids in the camp went up to kids going into the 7th grade, so I had the youngest boys of all. I had them on purpose, because I didn't want to have kids I was going to teach the next year (have to avoid that buddy buddy stuff with that group) and I didn't want the boys who I taught last year; of whom some were there. (Because I don't have a "revenge" death wish.)

Because my boys were so young, they caught the main gist of most Bible stories and cabin devotion times, but sometimes a few things were over their heads. (I was pushed into explaining adultery...that was interesting to put into 3rd grade language.) But the boys did good overall. One very good lesson was the one about Jesus washing his disciples' feet. I washed the boys and the assistant counselors feet, and afterwards, without asking, Shawn, the black assistant counselor washed mine. I think that, along with the story of Jesus talking to the Samaritan woman, was a good opportunity to demonstrate Christian love crossing racial boundaries to the kids (and counselors). That is the kind of experience many of the racist rednecks I went to highschool with should have had as children. I like to tell about when my parents dropped me off at a camp once, where the WHOLE CABIN was black except for me and this other white kid. ...but it did me a world of good, because I was great friends with them by the end of the week; and if more kids got experiences like that it would prevent alot of ignorance I see.

But anyway, eleven kids said they were accepting Christ by the end of the week, and there were more who were dedicating themselves to doing God's will in their lives. It was a good week.

But man...in the pool....those kids were trying to beat the crap out of me. They thought it was funny, because they were all trying to take me down but couldn't. There'd be all these boys hanging off of me and I'd raise my arms and declare my invincibility. And they'd try to take me down, and I'd pretend to not notice they were even on me. And every once in awhile I'd act like I saw them and thought they were barnicles and I'd pick them up, often over my head, and throw them. (Except for one hefty boy, who I just had to push down.) They loved it. I have small, finger sized bruises on the insides of my arms from where they were gripping me.

The camp food was actually really good; which was a nice suprise. ....ok, thats about all I can think of to write about camp. Except that now this will be my last week off, and then I have pre-planning that starts next week.

The End.