I’m 24. I have been to too many church camps. Camps I’ve embarrassed myself, camps I’ve physically hurt myself, camps I stalked my crush…
In every one of those camps, I encountered God.
And after every one of those camps, it turned out to be a temporary high.
It’s like once I left the literal mountain, for two weeks I’d be hyped up on holy adrenaline. Then life would nudge my shoulder and remind me I’m holding up the line. I find myself back at the place I was before I went to camp, but with a great story to tell.
Camp always brings you one step closer to God because you’re in an enclosed area where you’re praying holy prayers, eating holy food, singing holy songs; your heart is READY.
Anyone can win a fight with no opposition.
I challenge myself:
1) I will make this camp about other people
2) I will continue diligently to seek You long after Sunday passes.
[…]make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you
1 Thessalonians 4:11
On a side note: Completing long over-due work gives more satisfaction than knowing who Ted Mosby’s wife is. I feel like the guy at the bottom of this stack.
Thinking of: ARMOURED ON FRIDAY, cousin’s wedding in a few hours, teen pregnancies on Maury, jilted women at the altar, the quiet life and Sumi-made DNA so beautiful I cry. I cry.