Camp Kedron

Last night I came home from a week at Camp Kedron, a wonderful Christian camp on the edge of a national reserve.  I was part of a team hosting a holiday camp for years 7 through 10.  Even with the rain it was a massive success:  kids had an awesome time, the Gospel was shared and discussed, and Jesus Christ received the glory.  As I drove up Mona Vale road, the sunset was breathtaking:  rays of light peered through plumes of clouds, lining the edge with a glistening ribbon of white.  Two vertical pillars were illuminated with a swath of orange and blue as fog swirled like a fragile membrane between them.  "God, how could something be so beautiful?" I asked.  "I have done greater than this in the hearts of many this week," was His response.  And God's right - nothing is a beautiful as the transforming, redeeming work He does within the soul of a person by His grace.

As the camp speaker for six days at an Australian holiday camp, it was a fresh experience for me.  Distinct from a church camp or retreat, it was my role to hold forth the word of God to a largely unbelieving group.  I felt as Jesus was lifted up and glorified there was a holy hush upon those who heard, for together we ventured upon holy ground.  A ten-minute talk gave way to lively cabin groups which discussed and questioned the things we were learning about the great God who made all things.  Hard hearts softened as young minds wondered aloud.  Decisions were made to follow Jesus Christ for the rest of their lives.  Kids whose parents don't believe God exists soberly admitted they were not far from the kingdom of God.  Leaders where challenged and encouraged to go deeper in faith.  Life for the hundred or so in attendance, me included, will never be the same.

One of the greatest snapshots of the fun we had at camp came into focus when I walked by a boys cabin.  The leader was serenely reading through the Bible as five or six kids covered in sleeping bags with their feet sticking out thrashed all over each other, wrestling around.  Muffled grunts and groans came from the bags as they traded positions.  As I stopped and watched the match, wondering how stuffy and uncomfortable it must be inside those sleeping bags, a boy walked up and threw his sock two meters above the leader's head.  The sock stuck beautifully to the wall and was followed by the second.  Ingenious, sweaty, and stinky kids.  Gotta love 'em!  

Throughout the week I was blessed to meet and speak with many of the leaders and campers.  In my prayers last night I was able to recall about 50 of them!  I am comforted that God will not forget a single one.  When they grow up, He will always recognize them too.  I was greatly encouraged by what a leader said:  "Even if speaking at Camp Kedron was all you did during the next two years in Australia, it would be an eternal success."  I feel the same, by God's grace.  I have thrown my hat into the ring to be a leader in the future.  Should God open the door and give opportunity, I'll be paying my dues as a youth leader all over again.  It's funny how the dues are never fully paid!  Praise God for the fact He has paid my debt, and for that I will be forever grateful.