9 things I learned at Christian camp

So camp is in full swing this summer, and it's got me thinking back to the 11 years and 4 camps that filled my summers growing up. Here's what I remember best.

1. Getting there is half the fun. 

first ever week at camp. Can you spot me?

Picture a 15 passenger van. Tan with brown lettering. Hot seats. Hot windows. Hot armpits. The smell of melting hard candy. Something sticky in your hair. Sloshing cokes. Stained pillows. Bangs being teased. Jeans being pegged. Someone crying. Someone belching. Someone laughing uncontrollably. Someone snoring. Someone feeling sick. A heavy mist of hairspray and sun-ripened raspberry hanging in the air. The crunch of pringles underfoot. 

And that was before we'd left the church parking lot. 

Whether to Junior camp 45min away, or Teen camp 8 hours away, the ride was savored as much as the week itself. And the return trip would offer up its joys in a much similar fashion. Except we'd know all the verses to The Austrian Went Yodeling in 7 different voices. (I thought it was ostrich not Austrian for years...)

2. Your suitcase becomes a foreign object the moment it leaves your home. 

What is this thing full of random articles at the foot of my bunk? Who packed this excessiveness? Why, there's at least 5 of everything! How can every last travel-sized toiletry get lost inside it? At least it's a place for my soaking towel and water-day clothing. Not to mention all my left-over snack shop food I can finish on our ride home the end of the week. 

3. Personal grooming is extraneous (aka junior week) 

Exhibit A: what to do for 8 hours in the tan van. 

What do you mean 'do my hair?'

No one else seems to care

and lake algae adds a certain flare.

Ate my scrunchie on a dare... 

Forgot my comb so wanna share?

You have no idea, folks. 

4. team spirit brings out the inner dork. 

Seriously. I was "rah-rahing" from the moment I tumbled from the tan van. One of those cheering campers you wish would lose their voice or pass out. The one that showed up to 'wacky hair day' looking like a Star Trek alien while every other girl was tastefully preppy. I'd stress over understanding the different games, then give MY ALL. (thank you low center of gravity). I'd accost kids I didn't even know all over camp with the secret hand motions and phrases of our team. Anyone wearing my team color on some part of their body was fair game. 

5. Camp food is the BOMB-DIGGITY. 

Camp is the sure-fire, step-by-step manual for making your kids eat anything. Run them hard from sunup to sundown. Dehydrate them. Put them on a hot, shade-less activity field for 45 minute time slots. Let them flail in the deep end to their hearts content. Run them through the obstacle course. Ok, do it again just for kicks and giggles. 

This will make variations on cardboard taste like Heaven. And may be why I remember all camp food with something akin to obsessive adoration. 

6. Nothing good happens during night games.

Beth in 'we will win this game or die' mode

*drops mic/walks away*

7. The Holy Spirit is not bound by externals. 

He's not bound by the counselors. Like the one whose counseling looked like sharing her life story and its woes for 40 minutes. Or the one more focused on googly eyeing the team captain than the 8 girls in her care (kids are smarter than you think). Times when I wanted to talk through deep slung struggles in my spiritual life, but was hurried through the one-on-one as "the really good girl who will probably be camper of the week again this year..." 

The work the Holy Spirit can do is not bound by limited camp facilities. Not bound by the razzmatazz level of the speakers, the weather, the food, or quality of the program. All these things certainly help, and to be honest most of my counselor and camp experience was outrageously positive. But in the end, it comes down to the Word of God. Give the Holy Spirit opportunity to change lives through preaching/teaching/reading/counseling from/ and devoting with it. And no matter how scummy the lake (or not funny Funny Time is) The Word will not return void. It will accomplish all of God's purpose. I'm living proof. 

8. Important people were behind me 100%.

At camp I found myself surrounded by people walking with God and loving it. And all of them had the same message: The Christian life is real, and we want to help you grow in it. 

long live the camp hat. 

One of the key players in this was my Dad. He was my pastor/youth pastor/main sponsor every year. He'd be around during the week doing whatever secret things sponsors do, but at some point he'd buy me something from the canteen and sit on a bench with me for a few minutes listening to what God was doing in my life that week. Sometimes he'd give further counsel or ask for clarification (more for me than him). But always it would end with "Good Beth. These are important things God is teaching you. Stay sensitive. Stay in God's Word. I'm proud of you." This was pure gold to me.

9. Devotion to God is worth it. 

Of all the times I raised my hand or walked the aisle at camp, this was the main lesson God was teaching me. My Creator is worth my time, my love, my trust, my loyalty...He's worth giving up lesser things. Worthy of being shared with others. Worthy of my obedience. His Word is worthy of careful consideration. I'd come home with sermon cassette tapes with titles like "the High Cost of True Christianity." and replay them til they wore out. For months afterward I'd sing "I have decided to follow Jesus" in my devos, the Holy Spirit teaching me what that meant in my every day teenage life.

The Word of God had been given unrestrained course into my life for one week, and its ripple effect could be felt the other 360 days of the year. In fact, to this day I can trace much good in my life to those crazy weeks away from home. 

Moldy towels and matted hair aside. 

Beth