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Having Patience in a Christian Bookstore

August 21, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                         August 21, 2013

I find it interesting that the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5 is preceded by the acts of the sinful nature. It’s not until Paul deals out words like jealousy, hatred, selfish ambition, and envy that he finally gets around to talking about the spiritual fruit of love, joy, peace, …patience! I realize that the Word of God is inspired, and so there must be a reason why God had him write it in that order.

Perhaps it’s to help us identify difficult people…and then tell us to lighten up. Put a smile on!

Last week I had a couple of items I needed to get at a local Christian bookstore.

Translation! “God had a couple of ways he wanted me to grow in the spiritual fruit of patience…so he made it imperative that I go to the Christian bookstore.”

      As I avoided being trampled by a herd of smart-shopping women (Actually, just three!) because I mistakenly had entered into the aisle that was featuring half-price “get well soon” cards…that, unfortunately, were on the other side of me and the women were heading in that direction, I prayed for the protection of the Lord. His protection came in the form of a rack of Jesus t-shirts that I squeezed under until the feminine trio passed me by.

After the rumble had subsided I made my escape to go look for one of items that necessitated my journey to the store in the first place- communion cups! It was then that I realized how behind the times I am. At first glance I thought I was standing in front of a Christian coffee displays on K-cups for my Keurig. Then I realized it was the new “C-cups!” A taste of grape juice in the little plastic cup with a chewy tasteless wafer on top. It was the Christian fellowship version to popping the top on a can of Pepsi! Convenient, quick…probably cuts out a needless five minutes of wasted worship service time waiting for the bread and the cup to be passed out. Think of how much shorter Jesus’ last supper could have taken. In the midst of all the C-cup boxes…crammed into the back of the rack like an uninvited guest, I found a box of communion cups…the old kind, no bread attached.

I grabbed the box and started heading towards the front. I had forgotten what the other item I was suppose to get even was. On my way to the front a mom and her daughter were arguing about which cross necklace to purchase.

As often happens in stores, there was only one cashier at the check-out registers. Another employee was putting a name in gold letters on the front of a new Bible. Being fifth in line was my plight. I stood there trying to think of the Biblical significance of the number five…came up with nothing! By that time I was fourth.

Five minutes later I had moved up to second in the rankings with five trailing me. it was at that point that it occurred to the young guy with five facial hairs (There was the number five!) to call for another check-out person. It seemed as if a woman ascended from the ceiling to the next register over. The last two women in line sprinted to the front as if they were running the race to win the prize.

Patience, my son! Patience! Smile!

The woman in front of me had about fifty trinkets that had to be scanned individually. Numbers three through five gradually disappeared from my line like the morning mist. If the rapture is determined by whose last in line I’m toast!

The young cashier had no clue of my exercise in patience. He asked me the question, “How are you today?”

      Smile!!!! “Fine!”

      “Did you find everything you needed?”

      “And some things I didn’t need!”

      He looked at me confused…but he got over it!

“Do you still carry the Left Behind series?”

      “Yes, we do! Would you like to look for them?”

      “No…no…no, I wouldn’t want to lose my place in line.”

      Further confusion in my wake as I exited the store with a smile on my face.

Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Holy Spirit, Humor, Jesus, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
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To The Newly Ordained

August 19, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                         August 19, 2013

     My son! I hope you don’t mind that I call you that, even though we aren’t blood relatives. But I feel, in many ways, you are my son. Lord knows I’m old enough to be your dad!

I thank God for your obedience to the call. It hasn’t been smooth sailing for you. I can remember there were a number of times in the past three years where you were discouraged, tired, ready to lay things aside for a while. Going to seminary full-time, being a father and a husband, being involved in various ministry initiatives at church…your plate runneth over!

And now your name is preceded with the title “Reverend.”

I know it doesn’t change who you are. Humbleness is a part of your DNA. If someone refers to you as “Reverend” you will probably look behind you to see who they are talking to. The titled doesn’t change you. You are who God has transformed you into. That happened a long time before you got an official title.

See the title as simply a confirmation of those who have journeyed alongside you these past years that you are called…you have a special calling that has been placed upon your life.

Sometimes the calling will weigh heavily upon you. As you stand at a pulpit you will see the faces of people who need a word of hope for their lives, a word of encouragement. And yet, there will be other times when you stand at a pulpit there needs to be a “hard word” said. You must always seek to led by the Spirit of God. the temptation to throttle a congregation will be strong some weeks, as well as the tempting to be soft. Seek to lead the people of God closer to a holy fellowship with God. Don’t get carried away by personal agenda and political referendums. Stay Word-focused!

My son, as you enter a hospital room, or meet with someone who is about to enter into surgery, or gather with a family of a deceased loved one, understand that you are a representative of Christ. In fact, you are more than that. To those who are grieving you are the presence of Jesus. Without making you think that you are a Savior, you are in those moments Jesus to them. They are looking to you for a “word from the Lord”, a prayer for healing, comfort in the most trying times.

I know in your eyes you are “small” (Your word!), but to the family of a person who is about to have open-heart surgery you are a rock. Rocks are seen as being planted, strong…something that can have tough things, like the hard questions of life, brought to and there on’t be a shying away.

Be steady! People are sometimes fickle. They get attracted to the latest and greatest, but when the road gets rough, when the weariness of life leaves them gasping,  they look for that pastor who is steady and a servant. Seek to move the people of God ahead. The faster you expect them to move the gentler you must be.

People will follow the leader, even with some grumbling, if they are sure that the leader loves them and desires the best for them.

My son, always be teachable, no matter your age! Seek wise mentors who are not only close at hand, but also far away. And, hear this…seek mentors who are teachable. If you accept the guidance from someone who no longer seeks the wisdom of others, two people are about to take a plunge.

Finally, your family comes before the people of God. There have been many great pastors who have lost their families. That, my friend, is not God’s design for this whole calling of being a pastor. You must be wise in your spirit. Sometimes the people of God can overwhelm you with demands and responsibilities at the expense of your role as a father and spouse. Keep a balance. Discern what is really crucial and what can wait. Your daughter’s school production is more important than a meeting of the Finance Committee. Protect your family time while letting the people of God know you care.

There are so many other things I could write to you, but some of them are best learned on your own. Always know that I’m praying for you, and will be there for you no matter if you’re on a peak or trudging through a valley.

You are called! Fight the good fight!

Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Holy Spirit, Jesus, marriage, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
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65 Years of Journeying

August 13, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                              August 13, 2013

     Today is the 65th wedding anniversary of my mom and dad. Not many people can say they’ve been married to the same person for 65 years. It’s one of those things that people respond to with wide-open eyes of unbelief and ask “How long did you say???”

My mom and dad “lasted” this long because…because…here it comes…they loved each other and love each other deeply.

The problem is that few people today know what ingredients go into a recipe for love. It’s not always the warm fuzzies that people think it tastes like.

Let me tell you what I believe has gone into my parents’ marriage.

The Salt of Shared Pain- I remember hearing conversations of loss. When words left their sting on my mom, my dad would be the listening ear, the agent of comfort. As they went through the difficulties of losing parents and siblings to death they cried on one another’s shoulders. Pain can often be lonely business. It can cause us to retreat into a place of isolation, but Mom and Dad walked through it together.

The Cinnamon of Intimacy- My parents did not shy away from embracing or kissing one another in front of their three kids. One of the things I remember my mom saying to my dad quite often was “Kiss me, Slobber Lips! I can swim!” I crack up when I think about that still. They conveyed through their hugs and words that they loved pne another. It seems that this usually happened right after dinner, which takes in the next ingredient.

The Sauce of Servanthood- I don’t remember that dinner was the responsibility of just one of them. Although my mom did most of the cooking, Dad would be involved in setting the table, or washing the dishes (unless it fell to one of the kids). When we had mashed potatoes he always got the assignment. Whenever we had liver and onions, not one of our favorites, he was tasked with the cooking. If it was fried chicken or cooking a pot of garden fresh green beans, it was Mom’s turn to shine. The smooch after dinner was almost like a kiss of appreciation and partnership. They had finished the day of work and home duties together.

The Cream of Commitment- Like cream in a soup that filters through the whole batch, my parents committed to one another…for better or for worse…for richer, or, for most of the time…poorer…in sickness and in health (That is the everyday journey right now!). I had never heard of the word divorce until my Uncle George got married. And then when he got remarried to someone else I didn’t understand it, because Mom and Dad were always together. It didn’t matter when the income was barely able, if possible, to meet the bills. It just meant a couple of more meals of beans. I can’t even picture one of my parents not being there, because they have been…for sixty-five years!

The Vanilla of Spirituality- Some people see the word vanilla and they think it indicates blandness, dullness, but the ingredient of vanilla is precious. In lay terms it’s expensive! My parents marriage has been a dance with God. I’ve never known a time in my life when I didn’t go to church…except for about a year in college when Bedside Baptist gained a new member, and I was enjoying the Sunday morning messages delivered by Reverend Sheets. I was raised in church, but my parents modeled Christ-like behavior and lives. My dad’s meal-time grace was heart-felt. Mom’s involvement in choir and a women’s missionary circle were exercised expressions of her Christian walk. They sat in worship together Sunday morning and Sunday evening. I wanted to be a Methodist growing up because I knew their children were home watching Walt Disney while I was sitting in a church pew. Mom and Dad always sat together in church, side-by-side, unless they had a kid between them that needed to be “secured!”

The Sugar of Simplicity- Mom and Dad were not defined by their possessions, their home, the cars they drove. They seemed to like American-built cars back in the day, but that didn’t matter that much. Whatever they had they took extremely good care of it. Vacations were spent back on my grandparents’ farm in Oil Springs, Kentucky, and that usually meant helping Mamaw and Papaw Helton with some of the farm chores. Relaxing was sitting in one of the front porch swings watching the occasional cars drive past. That simplicity, however, was special. Watching The Ed Sullivan Show on Sunday night after getting home from church (still a little disgruntled about the Disney thing!), while eating popcorn…that was a picture of our family. That was special and meaningful.

The recipe has several other ingredients that have been put into he soup, but, I guess what I’m saying is that my parents’ 65 year marriage shouldn’t be the oddity. Is it wrong to think that it should be the norm?

Would the world be a little less chaotic and topsy-turvy if my mom and dad weren’t see as being unusual?

Categories: children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Jesus, love, marriage, Story, Uncategorized
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Fighting Against A Hardening of the Heart

August 5, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                              August 5, 2013

      Next month I have the wonderful experience that happens each September called “Annual Physical.” I get poked and prodded…no more explanation needed! One of the tests I undergo is one where sensors are attached to different areas on my chest and the doctor is able to see whether or not my blood is circulating adequately. My dad has had heart problems, so the test is to make sure I’m not showing some of the same symptoms that he has dealt with. Hardening of the arteries is one of those things to look out for. Knowing my tendency to savor fried foods- fried shrimp, fried chicken, fried mushrooms, fried Twinkies- it’s one thing that my doctor, a devout Episcopalian (which has nothing to do with it, except we talk about our faith every time he’s poking me), has his parental eye on.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about that spiritual condition we talk about, the  hardening of the heart. How does it happen? I can easily explain the physical hardening of the heart as being the result of my addiction to “all-you-can-eat fish fries”, but how does a spiritual hardening happen?

Paul warned the Ephesians about Gentiles that had this condition. He wrote that “they are darkened in their understanding and separated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them due to the hardening of their hearts.” (Ephesians 4:18)

      As a pastor I have a fear of my heart being hardened. It isn’t out of an absence of prayer, or people praying for me, or even a drop in dedication. My fear of a hardened heart comes as the result of life experiences. The picture that I have that best describes it is of a rock in the rapids of a river that has been become smooth over the course of time as the water continues to pummel it. At one time it had a different shape, but as the years passed the water had broken down its resistance.

The difference between a tender heart and a hardened heart is not as vast as it seems. Jesus had a tender heart, especially for those who were perceived as having minimal importance. His disciples fluctuated between mercy and insensitivity.

We are prone to reword hard heartedness into more acceptable terms like “being a strong leader” and “determined.” But really…it is what it is! Too many church squabbles, too many personality conflicts, too much war and too little peace. The rock gets smoother, and the smoother it gets the less able to help people change happens.

And before one knows it…there is no more desire, no more flame burning, no aching for God.

It could be the place where Solomon found himself at times as he penned Ecclesiastes. Hardened hearts begin to see things as meaningless. Making a difference gets replaced with making it to the next pay check. Purposeful living steps to the side so that apathy can slowly move in.

How does one fight this? By first recognizing that “the dark night of the soul” is always a possibility. Keep trusted friends close to you as you walk through it.

By being silent, seeking quite places and times. I treasure evening walks with my wife in the cooling off hours of a Colorado evening.

A friend of mine recently told me that he has a tendency to go into a shell when dark times come. For him the fighting against a hardened heart necessitates more intimate fellowship with a group of his brothers n the journey.

A third way is reading the struggles of those who have gone before us, in the Bible and saints through the ages, reading the life journeys that tell of valleys and mountaintops. We must be cautious of those who always seem to jump from one mountaintop to the next.

I know that God desires a tender heart, and I also know there is another kingdom that tempts me to be like that stone in the river.

Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Faith, Grace, Holy Spirit, Jesus, Pastor, Prayer, The Church
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Sunday Thumb Twiddling

August 4, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                   August 4, 2013

                             

     What does a pastor do on a Sunday morning when he isn’t speaking? That’s my morning today! I’m like one of those wind-up toys that you set down on the floor and it goes every which way, because it doesn’t know what else to do.

This morning I’ve walked around the building several times for no apparent reason, made coffee, straightened pews that were already straightened, wrote some birthday card greetings, looked at the bulletin, checked the lights, swept the sidewalk, pulled ten weeds, and stood looking at my bookcase.

Not speaking on a Sunday morning when I’m at the church I pastor is a strange feeling. Pastors have certain routines. Each week has a rhythm that develops in the midst of it. No two weeks are the same, and yet there are a number of likenesses, a number of things that you can count on.

And so I’ve been alternating between spasmossity (A word I made up!) and thumb twiddling. As I type this out I’m looking at things on my desk such as a bell from the Dominican Republic that I’m giving to Kim, a form for the state that needs to be filled out in regards to our tax exempt status, and a tube of Chapstick reminding me that my lips hurt really bad! (Movie line! Napoleon Dynamite!)

It isn’t that I think I’m the only one who can deliver the Word. Rich Blanchette, who is speaking this morning, will do a great job. It’s just who I am, and what I’ve been about for a few decades now.

Today, however, I sit, ponder, get hyper, and then repeat the process. Lord, help me to be a listener today!

Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Humor, Pastor, Prayer, Story, Teamwork, The Church
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Vacating

July 31, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                   July 31, 2013

      Carol and I don’t often get away…at least far enough away. Not that I don’t enjoy being a pastor, or enjoy the people of my congregation. It’s really not their problem.

It’s me!

I am not good at unplugging. I find it very difficult to turn off the knob (old technology term) that is labeled “Thinking About What Needs To Be Done.”

It’s like the word association game. Hear a word and say the first word that comes to your mind. For me, however, it’s seeing an object and thinking about a meeting coming up, or a message to be preached. I smell popcorn and think about movies, which makes me think about the video series our small group will be using in the next month, which makes me think about the study guide questions I still need to repair.

Fruit reminds me of communion. Dinner rolls at a restaurant remind me of…communion. I drive along a river and it reminds me of the water restrictions we’re under back home, and whether the sprinklers are properly turned off. I pass a school and I think of the staff appreciation luncheon we do each year at Audubon School down the street from us on the teacher work day they have before the students come back.

See! I’m plugged! It is one thing that Carol is concerned about whenever I retire. Can I really unplug?

In our culture where we are almost always connected by technology (Except on Union Boulevard around Lexington about two miles from our house. Why is it I can get phone reception in Antarctica, but not right here in the midst of civilized technology?), everything seems either urgent or known. If it is known that means it is expected to be put on the fast track to solved. If it is urgent it needs to be accomplished…now!

I get into that mindset of accomplishing tasks, doing the weekly jobs again, and then when a day off comes I’m still checking emails and thinking about the week ahead.

Why is it that we find it hard to vacate? Okay, I’ll use that other word…”rest!” It may say something about our reluctance to slow down and listen. We’re not a very good listening culture. We listen to music…as we’re working. We listen to the radio…as we’re driving. We listen to our kids…as we’re working on our laptop. We listen to the problems of others…as we’re texting someone else about our own problems.

Listening is an undervalued asset. Slowing down is seen as not getting us anyplace.

Perhaps I will try to “vacate” each day this coming month…not for the day, but for a few moments, an evening walk, or just in a quiet place by myself.

It won’t be early in the morning. With a day of tasks ahead it would be a recipe for defeat. Early evening works best for who I am.

I’ll let you know how it goes. For today Carol and I are going to vacate to about five different places that we need to get to.

Uh-oh, that didn’t sound restful, did it?

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Not Over Yet!

July 27, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                            July 27, 2013

 

                                             

 

Americans are notorious for judging the outcome before the verdict is in. Thank God the patriots of our nation’s birthing days didn’t read the predicted outcome of becoming disagreeable with the British.

I chuckled at the number of people in attendance at Game Six of the NBA finals between Miami and San Antonio. How many people headed towards the parking lots to get a jump of the traffic, because they judged that the Heat were dead in the water? They not only missed the incredible end of the game, but they also were absent from seeing Ray Allen’s incredible shot. I guess my chuckle was more about the number of people trying to get back into the arena after word spread that the Heat had risen from the dead. How silly they looked on the banging on the doors?

Of course, most people who were alive during the  Dewey-Truman presidential election remember most of the nation going to bed on election night believing that Tarry Truman had been defeated. The Chicago Tribune headline that next morning was “Dewey Defeats Truman!” After newspaper deadlines had hit, however, Truman made the historic comeback and grabbed the election.

Our tendency to determine the outcome has stood out in my mind as I’ve watched recent events in the news and also read more and more comments from people who say the church is on it’s last legs.

It seems that critics of faith have written the communities of Christian faith off. the church is viewed as irrelevant, archaic, gay-bashing, and narrow-minded. Venom seems to be spewed more and more towards the very people who seek to live by the principles of 1 Corinthians 13.

Westboro Baptist is how more and more people characterize the church. The church that hands out cups of cold water, takes care of the widows, and provides fellowship for the lonely is rendered not newsworthy.

But, of course, the Bible consistently communicates the principle that following God is not a road that is void of suffering and persecution. Love will be resisted. Proclaiming hope will be discounted.

As we seek justice for all we must also keep that picture of people at the Heat-Spurs game to gave up hope within our minds. Followers of Jesus know that it’s not over yet, even when dark clouds encompass us.

Good Friday looked grim, but…

Can you hear a stone being moved?

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Not That Complicated

July 25, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                    July 25, 2013

 

                                      

 

     Today marked the last day of our congregation’s day camp, which we call Summer Daze. Summer Daze began about eight years ago as a way to encourage kids to read during the school’s summer vacation. It actually began as a result of conversations with the Shirley Stevens, the principal of Longfellow School down the street from our church. Longfellow, which unfortunately closed about four years ago, did not have funding for a summer reading program, so our church stepped into the gap in the creation of Summer Daze.

This year’s theme was a take-off (no pun intended) on “Star Wars.” During the week we talked about some Biblical themes that deal with light and darkness, chosen people, and heroes of the Christian faith.

Today I explained the simple gospel message to the kids. It wasn’t complicated, and they understood it. I realized that as a pastor for thirty-four years that I quite often have made the gospel complicated. I’m prone to put in “What if’s”.

I realize that life is often complicated. It’s filled with crises, misunderstandings, obstacles, and setbacks. But the gospel is rather simple and straightforward.

Each of us is sinful and falls short .

      God still loves us despite our failures.

       He gave his Son, Jesus, to die on the cross to atone for our sin.

      If we believe in Jesus God promises life, and life eternal.

 

We can lengthen out the theology with more clarification…and amplification…but it still really comes down to that summary. It’s really a life and death story, or, better yet, a death to life story.

And the interesting thing is that when I look back on it, today’s sharing of the simple gospel was made possible because a school couldn’t provide a reading program.

Amazing!

Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Grace
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The Squat of Faith

July 24, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                        July 23, 2013

 

 

      Carol and I took our daughter, Kecia, and grandkids Jesse and Reagan to the hot springs pool in Glenwood Springs, Colorado recently. We had a great time, marveling at the beauty of the mountains as we drove to and from.

At the pool Jesse was  splashing around under the watchful eye of his Grammie. Reagan, on the other hand, was having a test of faith with her mom on the side of the pool. She was wrestling with what level of trust to place upon the one who gave birth to her.

“Go ahead, Reagan! Jump! I’ll catch you.”

     “I want you to come closer, Mommy!”

     “I’ll catch you. Just take a step.”

      Like me the first time I jumped off the high dive at the pool, Reagan peered over the edge of the pool with heightened doubt and apprehension. It was that moment, that we all have felt in some way, where the tipping point has not quite been reached that will take us from stationary to stepping into the unsure.

I felt that a few years ago when Kecia and my son-in-law, Kevin, convinced me to ride a crazy man’s roller coaster at Cedar Point Amusement Park in Sandusky, Ohio. Top Thrill Dragster was thirteen seconds of insane faith. When they put bleachers beside an amusement park ride it is a bad sign for someone who isn’t quite convinced that the tipping point is worth the risk.

“It’s okay, Reagan! I’ll catch you.”

Reagan looked skeptical of her mother’s catching power, but she started to take the step…but bailed out.

More encouragement, more promises. She started to take the step again, but then at the last moment she went to a squat. Squatting brought her closer to her mom’s hands. She reached out with her own hands, touched the hands in waiting, and then stepped.

A squat of faith. Not quite the same fear factor that a step of faith requires, bit still a moving from dry to wet.

Sometimes steps have to be preceded by squats. For Reagan an hour of faith squats was required before a step of faith happened.

I had to leave the pool for a while, but when I came back the squats had disappeared and the leaps of faith had begun. Sometime in my absence the step of faith had been jumped over.

In church life there are the initiators, those who present an idea or leap into a new direction. Most churches have a few, if that many, people who would be classified in that group. Then there are the early adopters. Those people who take the step after someone else has initiated the idea. The third group is perhaps the largest group. They are the late adopters. They are the ones who need to squat before they step. Getting closer to the outstretched hands is imperative for them before they can take the leap.

My granddaughter taught me that squatting is okay. It’s like the sixteen year old driving the family car with her dad in the passenger seat…in an empty school parking lot when there isn’t a car within sight. It’s the phase she needs to go through to get comfortable with the challenge ahead.

Ultimately, the step has to be taken, but Reagan reminded me that some things don’t need to be rushed into.

Now watch! I’ll say that and she will end up being a ski jumper! Come to think of it, they kind of get into a squat position before they launch!

Scary!

Categories: children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom
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Camp Building

July 22, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                     July 21, 2013

 

 

     Yesterday about a dozen of our kids, young people, and three adults came back from a week at church camp. In worship today there were several testimonies from the campers about their experience. There was a heightened level of energy and excitement in worship. The energy may have been fueled by the sharing of how camp had impacted lives, or it was the result of lives that had been impacted…or perhaps it was because the Spirit seemed close and moving in our midst…or all three.

This was the first year in the last five that I didn’t go to be camp pastor at the middle school camp, but I have always felt that the church- not just mine- doesn’t do enough in building upon the spiritual excitement of camp in the weeks that kids come back home. Perhaps that’s because the campers are away…an hour away. Sometimes we miss the momentum because it didn’t occur in the church building or the community. On the other side, kids come back from camp on spiritual highs, emotionally charged and wondering what is the next thing to take place. They encounter parents who have gone to work each day during the past week as usual, people who have gone about their routines and responsibilities.

Sometimes the first few days after camp are disappointing for those returning home. That’s why camp is such a great experience! It’s twenty-four hours a day of relationship-building, making new friends, campfires, and getting messy with shaving cream and Cheetos. The campers have been taken out of their usual surroundings and, in essence, they start building a new home with a new family of their peers under the watchful eye of their counselor. My guess is that almost all of the students who were at the middle school and high school camps last week have already been on Facebook with most of their camp friends, sharing pictures, “I miss you” comments, and counting down the number of days until camp next summer.

The church would do well to build on what many of the campers now see as the greatest week of their lives. The church would do well to challenge them at this point in their faith and commitment. If that happens it will help young people looking for a purpose to find purpose. If it doesn’t…if that building on camp doesn’t happen…they will continue to count down the days until next summer, and about 360 days will be lost in their growing season.

Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom
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