I took our dog, Princess Leia Freyja, for a walk last night. She paused to slurp a camper and then we took off down the twisty path in front of the lodge that leads to the meadow. Behind me, I heard Choco playing guidar and the children singing. Small voices, lifted high, their praises echoing across the swaying meadow grass and into the surrounding trees. Such an amazing moment. Then again, this was an amazing week. From sand sculptures shaped like lions and fish and a volcano in Hawaii with the burning bush on top, to that game where you find gummy worms in Jell-O and feed them to a friend with your feet. 

Miracles happened every day. Prayers were answered and God’s love was shared. When the camp bus was stuck in the shop, local churches and individuals stepped up and loaned us enough vans to transport the kids to Lake Chelan for a day of water and sun and fun.

God’s Glory was evident in that gentle and quiet way that is so often overlooked by the crowd, but means everything to the one He is speaking to. Homesick campers who found the strength to stay and overcome, make friends and accomplish what seemed so impossible. A young boy who gave his life to Christ. A child who told Scruffy, “This feels like a safe place.” A shy camper who doesn’t like crowds and yet volunteered for a crazy game in watchamabob.

When I was reading staff applications this year in preparation for camp, something struck me. So many of our counselors mentioned camp as they explained how they came to Christ. Very few of them actually made salvation decisions up here at Camas Meadows. Instead, Camas was the place where they took those first wobbly steps as young Christians who were not simply following their parent’s faith but choosing Jesus for themselves.

There is something amazing about the sun and the sand, the forest and the moonlight, God’s creation shouting out His Glory. There is something priceless about a water fight and a hug, making para-cord bracelets with your friends, and decorating your cabin with a 20 foot cross and a spider web of old twine. There is something life-changing about singing worship songs at the top of your lungs in the quiet of the rustling trees, learning how to find a Bible verse on your own for the first time, and asking your counselor if God can make a rock that is too big for Him to lift.  That is what we witnessed this week, God at work in the everyday of camp life. The miracle of children leaping and shouting and galloping about, laughing, making friends, and learning a little bit more about the one who made them and loves them best.

Boo Boo