The One That Changed It All
From my heart to yours:
In 2009, I was a second-year counselor, 20 years old, and wondering why the camp that I had loved the year before didn’t feel the same. A passion and fire had been lit in me the summer before and it had barely carried me through my sophomore year of college. But here I was, knee-deep in camp life again, and it was gone. The fire had been snuffed out and I couldn’t figure out why. I remember praying desperately for some sign that God was still there and that I hadn’t made a mistake returning that summer. In early July, I remember feeling like I had wasted my summer. I was completely spent, but we had campers arriving again and I prayed that God would use me. Nothing prepared me for what would happen that week.
We had a Junior High cabin full of girls, enough that it was hard to remember all of their names. It was Survivor Camp where we would spend the entire week in friendly competition. One night as we turned off the lights, a girl I had met the summer before said, “Night Mommy Darci,” I giggled. Then I heard from the back of the room, “I wish you were my mommy!” My heart stopped. The next day I managed to spend more time with the sweet little voice that called out the night before. It became clear that this sweet child wasn’t loved very well at home. At twelve years old, she had multiple stories of abuse, suicide attempts, and pure sadness. My sheltered heart shattered. I wanted so much to whisk her away from this life she had grown up in and show her what love meant. I poured into a Bible to send home with her. Highlighting every scripture I knew about love and courage. I slipped my phone number into the dictionary with no name. I told her it was there and to reach out if she ever needed anything. As a camp counselor, this was as far as I could go. The camp had different rules back then about turning in abuse and my hands were tied.
Two months later I got a text message, she asked if I remembered her. She was borrowing a friend’s phone on the bus and needed some support. These early morning texts continued for a couple of weeks until one morning she texted, “I can’t do this anymore, I’m not worth it. I’m done.” I flew out of bed knowing that I didn’t care about the red tape that had tied my hands before. I found a way to contact her school and get her the help she needed. She was removed from the home, hospitalized for a few weeks, and then placed into foster care.
I know without a doubt that I had returned to camp that summer for that reason. This child needed my tender heart and willingness to do what it took. I needed this child more than she would ever know. I have had the privilege of reconnecting with her throughout the years and know her as a happy, healthy, functioning adult. All because a week before her 13th birthday, God used her week of summer camp to save her life.
The mountaintop experience which is a week of summer camp, can provide kids with a visible change like Moses had on Mount Sinai. It can provide security and shelter as David had in the wilderness when he was hiding from King Saul. And for many, it is the beginning of a life of ministry leading, teaching, and learning just like Jesus did. At camp, we worship with abandon like King David, we learn courage like Queen Esther, we discover faith the size of mustard seeds, and we become the sheep following the shepherd. At camp, God moves mountains, changes lives and calls us out of the boat to walk on water. A week of camp will always be worth more than the dollar amount we can put on it. A week of camp is the week that changes it all.