When I was a kid, church camp was the highlight of my summer. The church I grew up in was rather large. As a result, the children’s and youth ministries were big enough that our summer camps were self-run. The church would rent the entirety of a camp facility for our weeks of camp. We would bring in our own camp staff. From directors to counselors, from cooks to kitchen help, from crafts to kids, everybody that participated in those weeks came from our church. I was always super excited for camp. Our family didn’t really do significant vacations most years, so for me personally, camp was a destination event! This was particularly true during my elementary years.
The camp we attended is just north of the Indiana/Michigan line. It’s called Bair Lake Bible Camp. It was incredible! It had rows of cabins and inside those cabins were rows of bunkbeds (I always wanted a top-bunk, of course). Right outside the front door of the cabin sat the camp’s swimming pool. Out the back door, across a small access road, was a steep hill that led down to Bair lake, which was visible from the cabins. If you followed the access road back towards the entrance of the camp, they had a full eighteen-hole putt-putt golf course. If you followed the road to the left you would come to a Y in the road. If you followed the road down the hill, it took you to the pier and beach area. They had all sorts of canoes, kayaks, pedalboats, and rowboats you could take out onto the water. If you followed the road to the left it would take you past the craft-barn, the main lodge/chapel/dining hall building, and into a dense forest. The road turned into more of a path and eventually led to what I would describe as a frontier era fort. It was walled in, all the way around, with a 10-foot tall wooden wall. It had identical 2-story cabins on opposite corners from one another and a firepit in the middle. Each week we would spend a night in the fort. It was both exciting and terrifying. I struggled to believe that there existed a more amazing place on the face of the planet. To this day, some of the best memories from my childhood play out with church camp as the backdrop.
I always wanted to go to camp because it was so much fun. I would always compile a mental list of things I wanted to experience while I was there. I would always experience all I had hoped; but, inevitably, I would get so much more. You see, in the middle of all of the games, all of the crafts, all of the boats, and all of my buddies, I experienced Jesus. My camp directors, counselors, and staff shared their lives with me. They gave me a glimpse into their own successes and struggles and they told me how much Jesus had done for them and meant to them in the midst of it all. Further, they explained to me, in words and ways that I could understand, that Jesus loved me as well and that He had a plan for my life. Even now, knowing what I know, I don’t believe anyone was trying to manipulate or coerce me into making a decision. Loving men and women simply created a safe environment in which I would experience life to the fullest and in the middle of it all they demonstrated to me the truth of the Author of Life that was even fuller.
I am forever grateful for the experiences I had at church camp growing up. While I didn’t accept Jesus as my Savior at camp, nearly every other major spiritual decision of my life took place in a church camp environment. I can vividly see the two locations at various camps where God clearly impressed on me the call to full-time pastoral ministry. The camps, conferences, retreats, and I would add mission trips, we offer are so much more than glorified vacations. They are moments for us to help young people disconnect from all of the distractions of daily life and clear the landscape of life so that Christ might be experienced in powerful and potent ways. Church camp changes lives. I know it changed mine.
