Poured Out

12:24 AM

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Photos by NGYC
Pray for me. Every time someone mentioned camp, those were the first words in my mind. In bold, big, black letters: pray for me. 

It wasn't panic (lies -- it was). It was reality. I needed prayer. I needed it badly.

Transforming into a living sweat bucket, blistering hands on weeds, ruining shirts with caulk, staining cheeks and feet as well as decks -- week one was hard. How do you maintain a spiritual high when everything about you is poured out -- your time, your energy, your internal temperature, your physical beauty, your hygiene, your sleep, your comfort zone?

Then the campers actually came, eleven precious, crazy, loud girls. Add to the list your sanity, your eardrums, your voice, your patience, your personal space, and your flip flops. Camp is a draining. It drains away pretenses. It's a forge, a fire. It burns up everything you once were. It brings out the best and worst in you. Opportunities fly around at every corner: it's easy to look like a failure with too many opportunities to choose from.

That's why I love camp. I feel like a different person every time I haul home my dirty laundry and fond memories. I have a new appreciation for mothers, air conditioning and two-ply toilet paper. I'm more mature and focused. I'm less self-conscious. I stood soul-to-soul with eleven girls -- many far more passionate for Jesus than my peers...than I am. They challenged me -- spiritually, mentally, physically. I taught them Baby Shark and they taught me true love.

I also experienced many firsts these past two weeks:

-- first bucket brigade after the grass caught on fire
-- first bout of heat exhaustion
-- first trip into Save-a-Lot to steal air conditioning after said heat exhaustion
-- first ropes course (and slight hyperventilation)
-- first legit tan
-- first perfect hobo dinner
-- first friendship bracelet gone so wrong that it braided itself into two at the same time
-- first full-length conversations on Monsters Inc. and bodily functions
-- first crack at motherhood/super babysitting
-- first tubing adventure with large rocks and girl overboard
-- first epidemic Attack of the Killer Bees and the ensuing drama
-- first locking an escape artist into a guillotine
-- first time sharing the Gospel one-on-one with the younger set

For the rest of my camp ponderings, stay tuned.

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7 impressions

  1. Sounds like you're having a wonderful time to growth and 'firsts'! Blessings to you, Bailey! PS. I'd like you to specifically expand on the "locking an escape artist into a guillotine" comment, please. :) Cassandra @ http://www.theunpluggedfamily.com

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  2. The camp theme was "The Great Escape" -- basically escaping from the lies of the enemy and pursuing our freedom in Christ. Fortunately for us, our speaker for the week was also an escape artist, and he performed an escape every chapel session. For the guillotine escape, I helped out. I must say, the French revolutionaries would fire me as an executioner.

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  3. As one who has done camp ministry for years, I know how crazy it can be (and sweaty, and frustrating... and exhausting). What a humbling and eye-opening experience camp is! I remember one year I went with another young man from my youth group (a dear brother in Christ) who loved the Lord, but wasn't too secure and open about his beliefs. Just one week counselling at camp and he was running up to me, so on fire about ministry and his faith. Once we returned to the "real world", with some further encouragement, he started doing music ministry at church and is now at a missions college, desiring to be a missionary abroad. Camp impacts people in so many ways. It is incredible!! I'm so glad you were blessed through your ministry. How amazing it is to be truly poured out before the Lord. :)

    Love in Christ,
    Rachel

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  4. Real killer bees, or just scary bees?

    Sounds like y'all had an awesome time. Thank God for pushing us out of our comfort zones...

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  5. Super scary angry bees. During a rousing game of Cowboys & Indians (at which I stinketh), a counselor rammed into a railroad tie lining the gravel path and upset a nest of bees inside. Stung around eight screaming children.

    Scary.

    But now they're dead, dead, dead. The bees, I mean. Not the screaming children.

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  6. You're adorable. Just saying. :]

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  7. Hey, I made your blog! Not the most *flattering* picture, but oh well. 'Tis an honor, nonetheless.

    Ohhh...I know that first week was so hard! If it hadn't been so HOT, I think it would've been more bearable. I was so proud of everyone for hanging in there though, and I was praying, praying, praying. What a week!

    I'm really thankful it wasn't 98°F when you had junior campers hanging all over you. They often don't have a good sense of "personal space" or "proper hygiene". ; )

    LOL..."Not the screaming children."

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