Dark Paths

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There is incredible beauty in this world and yet, laced all through the blazing sunlight, delicate blooms, and joyful people, are many dark paths. Sometimes people choose a dark path. They seem to do everything in their power to find the struggle and the pain in life and to live that pain to the fullest. At camp we work with children and so much of the time with kids, someone else has chosen that dark path for them. Someone they love has stumbled or wandered or rushed down a hopeless path and dragged their family with them.

Where is God?

Where is God when the way is dark and all seems grim and full of shadows?

Sometimes a path takes a dark turn in a natural twist of life. People get sick, cars crash, and everybody dies eventually. I have walked such twists and turns. Scruffy is 44 this year, the same age my dad was when he died in a simple accident.

Where is God?

Where is God when life and death and love and loss get all mixed up around you?

I took the picture above on an incredible misty morning. I had just dropped our three boys off at the school bus and our 50+ pound puppy was snuffling around in the car looking for crumbs. Three healthy boys, a happy pup who was the answer to a year’s worth of prayers, a beautiful drive home. Yet, this photograph made me pause and remember. Dark paths twist through even such a lovely world as this and my feet will surely come upon one sooner or later and so will yours.

Where is God, then?

That is the question, isn’t it? The campers who drive under the archway of the Camas Meadows sign and toss their sleeping bags onto a bunk and rush down to chapel to sing “I’ll Fly Away” with all the motions and join in a Jell-O eating contest… Many of those same laughing kids are walking dark paths. What do you say? What do you do?

Where is God, when the path is dark?

I do not have wisdom and answers and perfect golden words. I do know this, when my path was dark, God walked beside me. He was still there, even then. A smile, an understanding glance, an arm draped around the shoulder of someone in pain. These things we can give, even though we do not have answers. These are the things that matter when your heart is broken and the way lies black and misty before you.

Hold on, for God walks in such places as well. I know this, because I have lived it before. Walk with Him when your path twists into darkness before you, and you will find Him faithful even in such a time. I am not the only one. Talk to Scruffy or Choco or Del or Autumn… Open up God’s word and see, the Bible is chock full of people on dark paths who found that God was there, even then, even in such a place.

Psalm 22:24–“For he has not despised or disdained the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help.”

Job 36:15–“But those who suffer he delivers in their suffering; he speaks to them in their affliction.”

2 Samuel 22:5-7, 17-20–“The waves of death swirled about me; the torrents of destruction overwhelmed me. The cords of the grave coiled around me; the snares of death confronted me. In my distress I called to the Lord; I called out to my God. From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came to his ears…He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters. He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me. They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the Lord was my support. He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.”

Isaiah 50:10b–“Let him who walks in the dark, who has not light, trust in the name of the Lord and rely on his God.”

Know this my friend. Whether God will reach down from on high and pull you out of that place of darkness, or simply place His foot beside yours and walk the path beside you, I do not know. But He is there, that much I can say for certain, and He is good, even when the path is laced with shadow.

 

Boo Boo

 

Hidden Treasure

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There are hidden wonders in this world.

Did you know that?

You did once, I’m sure. When you were a little girl or a little boy and first held a dusty moth in your palm, chased a gliding snake through the grass, or got up early to catch a glimpse of Venus through a pair of battered binoculars. But it is easy to forget.

One of our missions at camp is to make sure that children don’t lose their sense of wonder. To give them a chance to see some of the hidden treasures that fairly shout out the glory of God if we will only seek them out. Pictured above is The Stone Face. Some people call it Indian Head, but I like the name one of our older board members always uses. The Stone Face. Not carved or shaped and yet everyone who takes the time to hike across the meadow and then up a narrow forest trail to the sandstone cliffs above Inspiration point can clearly see the face of a stern Native American warrior. It is baffling and yet plain to see, for anyone willing to walk a half mile out of their ordinary world.

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If you hike down the narrow sandstone ridge just past The Stone Face, you will come upon this old snag. Long dead, and covered with lichen, it still stands guard upon the ridge. A home for woodpeckers and other forest creatures, this lovely old tree makes me wonder about the many years that have come and gone beneath its snarled branches. This world contains so much more than just ourselves. The old snag standing sentinel on a barren ridge reminds me of that. God is larger than we thought, working in ways that we cannot begin to imagine. Much has come and gone during the lifetime of this tree, fabulous things and gentle miracles, things that only God knows. I catch a glimpse of the vast wideness of the world when I crouch upon the ridge with my camera, attempting to capture the beauty of this dead giant.

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This is what I would wish for you. Perhaps you are not able to take a midnight hike to inspiration point, gaze down at The Stone Face, or pausing on the trail up to Chipmunk Cabin to smell a pine lily, but God has still provided wonders all around you. Gentle reminders of His power and love. Seek them out my friend. Do not rush on by, wrapped up in your own worries and cares, His world is bigger and grander than you realized. Open up your eyes. Hidden treasure is everywhere.

 

Boo Boo

Autumn

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One of our founders, Autumn Griffith, turned 92 yesterday. She and Del, her husband, started the camp when they retired in 1973. Forty-two years later, the camp is still here, bringing the power and beauty of God’s creation and love into our lives.

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So is Autumn. She is the epitome of the word hostess, always offering a cup of tea or a cookie to anyone who stops by. Our three boys and even our pets are given the special Grandma Autumn treatment. Autumn shines the love of God upon all who come close. She is gentle and gracious, caring and always kind.

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I’ve heard this grand-parenting time of life referred to as “The Golden Years”. Looking around at the splendid fall color washing across the Camas, I cannot help but think of my own Grandmother, Autumn. And so I post these beautiful pictures of the autumn color in honor of Autumn’s 92nd birthday. Over ninety years lived well, shining bright and bold with the love of God behind her smile. Thank you Autumn for continuing to show us how to love long and well in the strength and power of God.

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Boo Boo

 

Art and God

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Music, art, dance, theater, story…does your soul ever just burst into song within you when you listen to Handel’s Messiah on a crisp winter evening or look at a sketch of robins singing outside a country kitchen window?

I was sitting in a little brick coffee shop, sipping a caramel toasted marshmallow something-or-other and a song came on the radio. It pulled me from my chair in an instant. I was there with the artist feeling what he felt, pulse pounding, tears behind my eyes, ready to fight and laugh and fall in love. The song inexplicably moved me.

I think art is the greatest argument for the existence of God.

Of what evolutionary value is the stirring of the soul, what of beauty, why do we seek out these things? They have nothing to do with food, shelter, or procreation. Why are they precious?

This summer I asked my boys if they wanted to go over to camp for worship. It is usually past their bedtime and I often go a whole summer without listening to my absolute favorite kind of worship in the world. Acoustic guitar in a log lodge with the wind stirring in the pines outside. But they are getting older and I asked if they wanted to go. “Yes,” they said. So we crept past the campers, up the stairs, and onto the balcony. I stood quietly against the wooden railing next to one of my sons. We did all the motions to the songs while his brothers snuggled up on the couches behind us. We looked down on Choco and Shinobi and Hatu as they played guitar and drums. The evening light warmed the log building and gleamed on the rough wood pulpit. When they switched to slow songs, my son raised his hands to heaven, closed his eyes, and sang. I wept, and yes, I sang too.

Art is from God. Not all of us see that, but art is no less a miracle for that. There is beauty here, even in this bleak and terrible world. God has stepped into our darkness and stirred our souls. We are His art and He is the reason we can even dream of song and story and picture and dance and love.

 

Boo Boo

Ninja Flash!

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The campers slowly creep up the trail toward Squirrel Cabin. They have their camo, a smidge of face paint, and a few wildly waving flashlights. But the woods are dark and the tube hill seems awfully far away. Will they be able to reach the checkpoint before one of the counselors catches them?

Suddenly, out of the darkness, a figure dressed in white leaps from the porch of a nearby cabin.

“Ninja Flash!” He yells as the bright glare of a portable camera flash blazes through the night. The campers are disoriented, they’ll never make it now.

But they’ve forgotten the dark Ninja.

He steps from the forest and stands between the discombobulated campers and the bright flash of the white Ninja. Gently he guides them past every danger, up the tubehill, and to the checkpoint so they can collect points for their team. The white Ninja struck again, but the dark Ninja was waiting.

Whether it is leaping out of the forest to combat the evil machinations of the white Ninja, helping a little girl with a twisted ankle limp back to the lodge, or allowing someone to pick his nose during cabin skits for dramatic effect, Shinobi is always ready to lend a hand or nostril.

So where did our resident Ninja come from?

Shinobi has been coming to camp since he was a nine-year-old camper, the year before Scruffy was hired. His counselor, Zucchini, wrote him a letter between camps one year. “It meant a lot for me and was a big part of me coming back as a camper.” Later, after watching Zorak his older brother devote his summers to serving as a camp counselor, Shinobi decided to make that sacrifice as well. Shinobi has counseled for many years and done every other job imaginable from dish pit crew to paintball ref. I asked him why he keeps coming back, why he remains available for Scruffy’s late night calls for just one more dishwasher or experienced guy counselor.

“The love that I experienced, I wanted other people to experience that. I really feel like this is the way the church is supposed to be and I want to be a part of that and to spread it. I don’t know, I just fell in love with this ministry. Also, I like being able to tell people who my friends are. That I’m good friends with Superman or sensei Splinter from Ninja turtles. And not everyone can say they are as close as a brother with a true gladiator.”

Dedicated to making nightgames memorable, sharing the gospel in a way that children can understand, and ensuring that camp is a place where kids know they are safe and loved, Shinobi has ghosted through camp and made it so much better for having its own Ninja.

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Boo Boo

Fall Work Retreat

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Our bi-annual work retreats are vital to the running of Camas Meadows Bible Camp. This year workers faced many difficulties, including but not limited to, axes and splitters and lawnmowers breaking at vital junctions and a burn ban that kept us from using chainsaws out in the woods away from the camp. But despite all of that, much helpful work occurred. I personally am thankful that Roger Webster was able to fall three dead trees from the staff house yard. This will help stop the spread of destructive pine beetles, keep our house from being smashed by falling timber, and make us feel a whole lot more secure during wind storms. Thank you so much everyone who came to help. You make Camas better every year. We couldn’t do it without you!

 

Boo Boo 

Camas Staff Reunion 2015

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Thanks to the indomitable Hatu, the Camas Staff Reunion of 2015 was both fun and fabulous. Who could resist playing a few of their favorite camp games, even a decade or two later. Yes indeedy, the photo above features camp staff from bygone years with nylon stockings stuffed with tennis balls on their heads. Fun for one and all. 

The weekend also included scenic hikes, meadow games, slip-n-slide, worship, and a Lord of the Rings themed chapel session with Scruffy. It was so wonderful to see our three sons sing the camp songs (with motions) and hear their Dad speak. Usually such things are past their bedtime and so this was a rare treat. Several of the counselors that I served with long ago brought up their own children and a new generation of kiddos galloped through the meadow chasing grasshoppers, gave their folks heart palpitations as they wildly swung golf clubs on the mini golf course, and zipped down the camp slip-n-slide screaming. Thank you so much Hatu and everyone who assisted her. The weekend was marvelous!

 

Boo Boo

That Camp Smell–An Interview With Hatu

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Many of you know Hatu. She was a first-time camper back when I was a counselor. She grew up coming to summer camp each year until she herself became a camp counselor and was tragically named Hatu after her older sister. Yes, Hatu is Utah backwards.

Most counselors grow up and move on and Hatu did as well. But then she came back, first as a counselor when we desperately needed one, and then as our marvelous facebook and photography expert. I asked Hatu to share a bit about what camp means to her, why she gives of her valuable time to remain involved with a simple, backwoods Bible camp.

Hatu told me about her years as a camper. She remembers having Princess, Rapunzel, and Blossom as her counselors and many long weeks of intense fun. “Every year I would go home and all my clothes would smell like ‘camp smell’ and I refused to let my parents wash them because I didn’t want to lose the ‘camp small'” We discussed it and decided that camp smell is equal parts campfire smoke, dust, and pungent weeds. Which doesn’t sound all that enchanting until you pair it with a week of precious memories. One year her dad forgot to register her for camp. Hatu remembers the horrible bout of weeping that she (and he) endured while she waited for him to call Scruffy to try to get her in at the last minute. Of course he let her come, it was Scruffy after all.

When talking about her years as a counselor, Hatu mostly recalled the bond that you form with other Christians your age. How they grew up into adults together. How they walked through the fire together, had to rely on each other, built a team together that cried and laughed and bled as one. “Obviously I’m still friends with the people I counseled with even though they haven’t counseled for a decade.”

But why did she come back, even though her years as a camper and counselor had come and gone?

“There is a real sense of family here, more than any other place. I’ve been moving around a lot, a new home every year, but Camas was a constant, you always know someone, there is the same feel, even when the people change.

I like the ministry here in that it is relational based and not just about numbers or all the cool things we can do. It’s about building true lasting relationships.”

Scruffy tried to give her gas money once for driving all the way from the west side to take photos of camp. But Hatu explained what volunteering up at camp means to her and why she refused.

“I feel like I’m getting away with something, being able to come up here and be involved. I get to do something I love. I feel almost like I owe, not that I am owed.”

Hatu has done so much for camp over the years, especially these last few. She has worked behind the scenes, starting the camp facebook page and providing pictures of the campers, counselors, and speakers each week. She makes the wonderful speaker biographies and films the cabin skits for us to enjoy. Parents can see their children enjoying camp during the week because Hatu drives over the mountains after work and takes the time to document each week of camp.

Thank you for all that you have done and all that you continue to do. Thank you for directing your many talents and gifts across Blewitt Pass and up a small gravel road to a rustic Bible Camp in the woods. 

 

Boo Boo

 

Worn Down

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Usually we think of being worn down as a bad thing.

Like when a child asks for a 10lb bag of candy 102 consecutive times until finally the worn down parent snatches up all that sugar and serves it for breakfast all the next week. An unlikely scenario? Have you ever had someone ask you for something 102 consecutive times? But yes, it is unlikely, a 10lb bag of candy would never last a week, but I digress. Yeah, I’m a little worn down, too.

This week I saw people who were worn down, and it was such a beautiful thing to behold.

There was the normal variety of worn down, camp staff giving deeply of themselves after an entire summer of service. Sleepy, teary, sunburnt, and yet still smiling. Loving the kids with more than human love, because God was all that was left.

But I saw something else.

Something that opened my eyes to what we are about here at camp, to the particular brand of service that God has called us to.

Sometimes people expect big numbers from people who work all year for God. 500 souls saved! In only 10 minutes, no less!!!

I am coming to realize that we here at camp were not called to that kind of service. Oh God called Scruffy and I and so many others, I remember the day He called us with incredible clarity. But He called us to a slow and quiet love, to a service of years and faithfulness and time.

There was one young lady who described herself as agnostic. She grew up in a Christian home, but did not know if there truly was a God. Haven’t we all been there, at that honest place? She came to Jr. High 1 and her counselors took her on hikes and to the lake and ran screaming through the meadow to throw water at her in the all-camp water fight. They sang songs and read God’s word and listened to the speaker. Then they sent her home. This young lady determined in her heart that she would come back and that she was ready to give herself to God. And so at Jr. High 2, several weeks later, a new follower of Christ was born. Quietly, gently, over time and with love, God brought her to himself. She was worn down by His pursuit of her.

One of our counselors told me about a girl who had been in her cabin for several years. Then this girl hadn’t been back to camp for awhile. But this year someone paid for her to come. The girl hadn’t ever opened up in cabin discussion, she’d come and played and had a blast and then gone home, year after year before she stopped attending camp. This year she came back. The week wore on until the night this young lady suddenly burst into tears. “I’m not following God!” she cried out. But suddenly she could see God, in that quiet individual who had sent her to camp at just the right time when her heart was tender and ready to bloom. 

The picture above is of a young man who chose Christ as his savior last year. A summer ago he considered being baptized as well, but decided against it. But this young man continued to consider this public show of faith, all year, and all week. On Friday, he asked to be baptized in our old horse trough in the meadow. He is not wearing a fancy baptismal robe or listening to the glorious strains of a choir praising God and cheering him on in his declaration of faith. He stands in camp clothes, with Scruffy and his counselor, in a rusty horse trough in the woods, surrounded by grasshoppers and birdsong and friends who love him and are proud to see him there. 

Sometimes God calls you to a long and quiet kind of service. You plug on day after day, loving the best that you can, until you feel done. But when you are done, God is just beginning. Sometimes the most beautiful things happen when you are worn down.

 

Boo Boo

 

Camp Rental Group

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This week we had a rental group at the camp. What is the difference between a Camas Camp and a rental group? For the Camas Camps, Scruffy and his crew take care of absolutely everything required to run the camp. For a rental group, the Camas crew provides the venue, the food, and a helping hand when needed. The church or organization who has rented the camp trains their counselors, plans and runs their program, and takes care of the ins and outs of a fun and fabulous week of camp.

It is amazing to watch different churches and groups to see how they do camp. Scruffy has gotten many a fabulous program idea and several new camp speakers from watching and listening during a well-run rental camp.

This week it warmed me to see the counselors pouring themselves out to love the kids, stepping out of their comfort zones to participate in crafts and games and dress up, and taking the time to concern themselves with not only safety and activities but the children’s hearts as well. A beautiful sight indeed.

The photo above? Well, those are my own personal campers exercising our new puppy Princess Leia Freyja. But the campers this week looked like they were having just as much fun as my boys are in this photo.

Camping ministry is multifaceted and providing a beautiful place for various kinds of churches and organizations to accomplish their own ministry with kids is one of the things we love to do.

Boo Boo