Our theme for camp this year is “Deal or No Deal: Making the Right Choices.” In order to prepare myself I’ve watched a couple of episodes of Deal or No Deal with Howie Mandel in full OCD glory.
I’ve got a short 10 minute devo to do on Tuesday night in front of the entire camp. Preparing a devotional which would be relavent to everybody from 4th grade and up can be difficult. Tenatively I’ve decided to incorporate “How to Save a Life” and the song explaination. And yet I don’t want to put the whole camp on guilt trip while I tell them that sometimes everyone acts differently depending on what situation they’re in (i.e. being a Christian only on Sundays….). The teens I know do it, and nothing is ever said about it.
And so there’s my delima. I’m sure I’ll be incorporating some of the same verses already spoken about in the days of camp previously….(Joshua 24:15, Matthew 6:24).
A friend of mine and I were playing the what ever happened to game the other day. As it turns out those people who I went to camp with some 15 years ago had made some bad choices in life. I guess they never took to heart what was said at camp that year we were there. Those promises and commitments didn’t last all that long. And it is a real shame. We left camp in 1991 and 1992 thinking we could conquer the world for Christianity’s sake. And yet some of us failed. What went wrong? Could it be that those people who failed didn’t get enough support at home or at our own local congregations? Or maybe those who failed just simply made the wrong choices in life with no one to blame but themselves.
I’d be amiss if I didn’t mention that I am slightly disappointed about things that I could have done this week. Somehow I feel segregated and have been made to feel inferior to those around me. They say “Sure, Jeff, you can help out,” while at the same time criticizing me privately. I guess I shouldn’t feel that way, but in reality it hurts.

I didn’t take this picture, which is why you won’t see this on my Flickr album.

And yet, somehow it’s one of the better baptism pictures I’ve seen: A grandfather cradleing his grandson in the ceremony of baptism. I don’t know either one of the people pictured. I don’t even know who took it, whether it was a professional or an amature shutterbug at the right place at the right now.
The picture was sent to me as part of a greater collection of pictures for a camp fundraising slideshow I was working on.
Why are baptisms so much extra special when it happens at camp? Perhaps its the idea that you don’t immediately go home after a camp baptism. Maybe it’s the feeling that you’re surrounded by new friends and folks you’ve known all your life.
Our minister, David Shannon, has stated recently that when you ask young people to name a time when they felt closest to God, it was during a retreat or summer camp. For me this is very much the truth. Even after 15 years of on and off again summer camp, for the most part I come back refreshed and renewed, and smiling.
This year I’ll be assisting with a high school boy’s class and giving a short devotional Tuesday night. I guess I’ve moved on since those early days of being green freshfaced college student, who’s major contribution to camp was checking cabins for cleanliness.

Did the Biblical character Job do anything particularly special? That was one of the themes at Center Chapel’s men’s retreat which I attended this weekend. As it turns out Job really didn’t do much. However it was what he endured that made him memorable. Sometimes we might be Jobs ourselves, not necessarily doing something great, but instead enduring hardships and staying faithful.
I found myself in the equivalent of a men’s business meeting during the last group session of the retreat. I was able to keep myself quiet from saying “At Mt. Juliet we do it this way….” Still I guess it is not unusual to know that even at Center Chapel the problems are the same. Parking problems. Attendance. Time on the services. The problems are not unique to Center Chapel. We’ve faced and are facing the same problems at Mt. Juliet.
It was somewhat like a homecoming of sort. I had been to the group lodge at Cedars of Lebanon State Park before. My very first time was my first church retreat. 5th grade.

I spent the greater part of Saturday visiting Taylor Christian Camp during their Spring cleanup day. Initually my job was to take pictures of improvements to the camp (after all I do maintain the camp webpage).
Going back to camp always brings back great memories. While we were cleaning, another adult remarked about how many lives this camp has touched over the years. I’m one of those who has been touched by my experiences at camp. Even though my experience at camp started in 1991 when I was 16, my memories will last a lifetime. There have been so many friendships garnered, spiritual lives made stronger, and overall goodness which come from a week at camp. Many many times I have come back from camp being spiritually renewed, with enough positive feeling to last a lifetime.

I think last week at camp was one of the first times that I haven’t had to impress anyone. I had proven myself time and time again, so there was no need to kiss up to anyone. Just being myself was easy enough and I wasn’t too worried about what people thought about me.
That homesick kid which I spoke about earlier? I think I was at that point a year or so ago. Very self conscious. Worried about what people thought about me. Worried about my appearance. What I wore. Afraid of meeting new people. I think talking to someone who was anxious at a much smaller scale opened my eyes to the view of how others see themselves. At some point we are all anxious, depressed people. Homesickness. Rejection by fellow Christians at our own churches. What we do with it…how we get out of our troubles is up to us. We’ve fooled ourselves into thinking that self esteem is some sort of arrogance. Yet God Himself wants us to have a healthy amount of self esteem, after all how can we love others if we don’t love ourselves?

Back from camp. Taylor Christian Camp 2006. Good show.
Much of my time the first few days was taken up trying to convince a homesick camper not to go home. He was the only one from his home congregation. He was a homebody, and very much liked the company of his parents. Convincing him not to go was a time monopolizer. For a while there he was my shadow. And for him, his camp experience lasted until midday Wednesday. He made it farther than I expected.
This was the camp which I’ll remember as being in a different stage in my life. No longer was I the freshfaced post college grad looking for a week of vacation. This was work. This was responsiblity. I’m glad I did it. I think it is where God wants me to be.

I was up at Taylor Christian Camp for their 20th Anniversary fundraising dinner. We toured camp, sang, and heard a message about the impact this camp has had on a generation of children and adults. Our featured speaker reflected how there is something about this place that makes us not want to leave. And I didn’t want to leave today. So many memories. So many times which I truly felt closest to God was at this ridge in rural Allen County, Kentucky. So many friendships have been cultivated. So many opportunities to do God’s will.
Camp has changed. From new cabins, to bathrooms within the cabins, to new craft houses, the whole makeup of camp has changed since I stepped foot on the campus in June 1991 as a fresh-faced 16 year old who thought I knew everything. Still recognizable with its distinct ridge view, the camp is physcially like before. Yet the old facilities have been taken down (except for the main lodge), and new ones replaced. Mere shacks were dismated with replacement of sturdy metal cabins. Where once was wilderness, now there are craft cabins, basketball courts, and volleyball sandpits.
Not only camp has changed, I’ve changed. No longer am I the naive person willing to believe whatever someone throws my way. Now I’m more decerning.
So I guess I’m in the reflecting mood. What if I hadn’t of gone to camp during that summer of 1991 when Bill Speight took about half a dozen of us to camp with other Kentucky churches? What if I had gone home that day I arrived for fear of not knowing anybody? Ironically now it seems that this camp is one of the few places where I feel comfortable.

Mark Sexton was kind enough to give me the payphone they used to have at TCC.
The payphone was installed during a time when cell phone usage wasn’t as widespread as it is now. Long distance calls at camp were running up a huge bill and the payphone was a means to an end to it.
As it turns out the phone never really worked very well due to the line service level available at that part of rural Kentucky. So they disconnected the pay phone and only allow local calls on their phone line now.
Nowadays cell phones are used much more often everywhere including camp. Although last time I was up there Verizon couldn’t hear me now.
No doubt that phone has a bit of history behind it. It was there from 1997 to around 2000 or so. There is a rule at camp that anytime a camper wants to get baptized they have to call home to inform their parents or legal guardian. One can imagine the conversations which took place on that phone. Whether it was a sigh of relief on the other end of the line…..or a sign of dissappointment from parents who never really wanted their kid converted to a born again Christian religion. And then there was the courage the camper must have had to call home.
Then there’s those other times where the payphone was used by a camper to call home so that parents could pick up their kid for disobeying the rules. No doubt that was definitely a sign of disappointment.
It was the camp’s connection to the outside world.
So eventually I would like to hook this phone up to my line and mount it in my kitchen. The problem is that the phone is locked up tight without a key. The phone requires a T-key, which can usually be found on Ebay. It also requires a key to open up the phone. I think I’ll have to take it to a locksmith to open it up.
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Update: 11/12/2005:
My T-key showed up. I can open the portion where the coins are stored. No coins left, but several different sized of screws were still there. There was also a sticker on the coin return box that said “Westmoreland Hardee’s – Outside” and a phone number. I think I know there this phone’s first life was….
Locksmith here I come…

I went on Center Chapel’s retreat this weekend. It was amazingly foggy on top of Short Mountain. I figured it would have burned off by midday on Saturday. But it was constantly around us. And there was a slight chill in the air, almost a fake snowfall.
The change in weather was amazing. At the beginning of the week we were at 80 degrees. Yet by this weekend, we were at 50 degrees and pulling out kerosene heaters in our cabins. There was no Fall in between the Summer days of Monday morning and the winterized foggy days on top of that mountain.
I watched what possibly have been the coldest baptism I’ll ever witness. It was a cold walk to Short Mountain’s pond. In Summer this pond is a buzz with activities of canoes and other water sports. Yet it was seemingly ironic that during the Fall time of the year the pond is usually desolate and quiet. Yet on Sunday morning we brought a bit of life to the pond….eternal life through a baptism service. What a great way to end the retreat.
I think it was during this weekend that I have felt better about myself than I have in a couple of years. Sometimes there is fog in our lives that keep us from seeing the true beauty that is around us and within us.

I woke up to the sound of rain on the tent this morning. It was 4AM. At first it was just a mild drip. But later on it seems to pour into the tent. The other guys in the tent seemed to panic is a tongue-in-cheek manner. They ended up abandoning the tent to go sleep in a cramped mini-van. I chose to stay, after all a damp sleeping bag and pillow was just a mild annoyance. The rain itself cooled off things, and left me alone in a quiet tent. I got the feeling that God was just showing us that He is still in control. After all, the provides rain on the just and unjust….and to the camper residents and tent-ers. It just depends on how prepared you are to handle unpleasant situations.
Afterwards choosing clothing to wear for the next day wasn’t a matter of what was clean…it was a matter of what was dry…or at some people least damp.
Trailwaters was good. The campsite was very much a camper friendly campground. And when I mean camper friendly, I’m talking about the Winnebagos. Barren River Lake is pretty huge and has plenty of water to boat on. I managed to get a ride on a jet ski too.
Apart from the rain this morning, weather was good. A bit hot at night. Like most people, I find it difficult to sleep in a hot room.