Growing up, if you were anything like me, you would have spent part of your summers at camp. After all, summer camp is one of the most incredible experiences of all time. You're away from the parents, you have fewer (ish) rules, you get to eat lots of junk food, you're hanging out with friends every day doing fun and wonderful activities, and you get to stay up way past your regular bedtime. Yes, going to camp over the summers growing up made an impact on my life, so much so that I decided during the summer after my freshman year of college that I was going to be a camp counselor, partly because I wanted to be able to invest in the younger generation just as my camp counselors had invested in me over the years and partly because I still wasn't quite ready to give up my days of fun in the sun.
There was only one caveat: I had become a Christian the year before. So, instead of just your typical summer camp, I agreed to be a counselor for a Christian Summer Camp two states away from my hometown. As excited as I was, the nerves were getting to me. I would be in a new state, in a new environment, in a leadership role, and in many ways, still discovering my new faith. It was thrilling and nerve-wracking, but I was determined to make it the best summer ever.
I showed up to camp two weeks after school had let out for counselor training. It was strange to see a campground so empty. I was used to chaos and excitement from the moment I stepped out of my mom's minivan, but now it was quiet with just me, 20 other counselors and operations staff, and the leadership.
The camp director welcomed us and told our crew which cabins we would be assigned for the summer. They ran through all the instructions and rules we'd need to know and follow while we were there, and they had us do some icebreaker games to help us get to know everyone better. So far, everything seemed relaxed and uneventful, but little did I know what was in store for me.
The very next day was the start of my life's most intense but rewarding experience. After breakfast, we dove straight into counselor training. We sat through sessions on what to expect, how to handle rough campers, how to handle situations where abuse was suspected, and what channels we'd need to go through. We were put through intensive theology sessions, and a pastor came to speak to us several times a day to prepare us for all the scenarios we might face from our campers.
Day after day, for three weeks, we worked to prepare the camp by cleaning the grounds and deep cleaning cabins. Between that and all the training sessions, I was quickly dead to the world by the time my head hit the pillow every night. As I lay there drifting to sleep, I wondered what I had gotten myself into. Did I really have what it took to be a counselor at a Christian camp? After all, I was still getting to know my faith, so was I truly ready to be helping shape young, impressionable minds when I still had so many unanswered questions myself?
The thoughts would have kept me up all night had I not been so exhausted from the physical and mental toll each day was taking on my mind and body. I could only pray as my eyes closed and sleep consumed me that I was in the right place, and little did I know just how much that prayer would be answered in the coming weeks.
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