Camp First Day Frustrations

When I first got to camp almost two weeks ago – how time flies! – I could tell we were under spiritual attack. The camp director’s wife had experienced a broken wrist in the past week and a flat tire that morning. I myself discovered that my clock which I bring everywhere, not being fond of watches, would not work. I use my cell phone, and apparently it refuses to keep time without service. On top of a mountain, several miles from any city, is not a good place for cell phone service. How would I wake up at the unheard of hour of dawn each morning?

The camp asked us not to use scotch, duct, or masking tape to decorate our cabins – protecting the old paint on the walls. Instead, we were offered that blue painters tape, which won’t pull tape off walls. Why? Because it doesn’t stick. That’s for what its made, to not stick. Nor would it hold up the decorations I brought – not even streamers.

I was rather beside myself with giddy nervousness, reuniting with friends, acquainting myself with the ladderless bunks above the sandy wood floor, and the above mentioned frustrations. Mom to the rescue delivered to me my dad’s wristwatch, and he taught me how to use it. I don’t know what he did for the week, but it was such a relief.

You know if I were running a camp store, I would have in it the “Oops! I forgot (blank) at home” items: toothbrush, deodorant, batteries, film, postcards, chocolate, and alarm clocks. Definitely alarm clocks. No such luck. Thank you, Dad!

The frustrations of day one were pointers to God, though. By the end of the day I knew I needed Him, and had cried out to Him from free-fall mode several times. One of the younger girls in my cabin had a similar first day (forgot her towel and pillow, lost her hairbrush: cue up Veggie Tales!), and I felt like our shared experience was a gift of God for us to connect.

Spiritual warfare continued during the week. Especially during invitations and Bible hour, chipmunks would visit the chapel or equipment would malfunction or some silly counselor (yours truly) would spill her pens all over the floor. But we prayed hard and worshiped hard and the messages ended up having an impact. I know. I think they were written for me, just for that week.

In the words of our chapel speaker to me after breakfast one morning, “Hang Loose!”

To God be all glory.