So, I was running around all crazy the other day. I had to drive down off the mountain to pick up my oldest boy from a birthday party and get a bunch of vanilla icecream for camp, but first I needed to pick-up a dishwasher for the weekend. One of our C.I.T.’s (counselor in training) had traded dishwashing time for the chance to come up as a camper to CamasCon and so Scruffy cashed in her I.O.U. and sent me to Tumble’s house to pick her up.

As we wandered through the dark countryside, missing the right driveway and doing sudden U-turns into small country roads, we started talking about camp. At one point she told me that she had become a completely different person since camp. “What do you mean?” I asked. And then she told me a story I have heard before. She was at that place. The watershed. That point where a Christian kid looks back and sees their childhood faith, looks forward and sees adulthood approaching, and wonders what they are going to do with God once they have stepped out on their journey alone.

Was God just some lovely myth from her parents, passed down through her family to land in her lap?

She came to camp as a C.I.T.. We hounded her, we trained her, we made her work and struggle and didn’t give her much time to sleep. And we loved her. The girl that I drove up to the camp kitchen that night was confident. She knew who she was and she knew her Lord.

“What about camp was so significant to you?” I asked.

“The love.” Tumble said. “When I am at camp I am loved. It is the one place in the whole world where I can be myself.”

So, I wanted to tell you good job. Sometimes camp does not run smoothly, everything is all crazy, equipment is breaking down, and you wonder if you’re ever going to get it right. Well, you did Camas Staff of 2013. You remembered to love.

Boo Boo