CAMP

I thought about titling this "Church Camp", but then realized we never said "church camp". We just said "camp" - and we all knew what it meant. There was no other camp in our world. All of my camp experiences were Foursquare camps, which is the name of a denomination for those who aren't familiar.

I started attending camp when I was 8 while living in Moline, IL. We would board a school bus and head to Lake Geneva in Wisconsin. I remember sitting in a class one morning and the camp nurse walking up to me and asking about the rash covering me. I immediately told her it was a heat rash that I got every year. Quick thinking, but apparently nursing school had trained her otherwise, and my measles and I had to go home. I can still picture that morning, and spending several hours in the nurse's office until someone from home came to get me. Oh how I hated to leave! There was only one year that we didn't get to go to camp, 1962 when we came out to Phoenix on vacation. I'm pretty sure I would have opted for camp if given the choice. At some point, we no longer went to Lake Geneva, because we had moved up to the youth camp, and I think went to a different location in Wisconsin. I may have only gone to that camp once before moving out west.

In 1965 we moved to Phoenix, but guess what - they had camp too!!! We would take vans and cars up the mountain to Camp Friendly Acres in Williams, AZ. Sometimes the VW bus would break down or overheat going up the mountain and we'd have to pull over. I don't remember if there was AC in them - prob'ly not, and if there was, it would likely have to be turned off for the climb up anyway. But once there, the trip was well worth it. We always got to spend a full week, Saturday to Saturday, and when it was time to come home, I would begin longing for next year when it was time to go back.

I guess I loved being away from home, but it was more than that. I wasn't particularly fond of the whole 'camp bathroom' lifestyle, but I suffered through it for the rest of the good stuff. It wasn't the modesty issue, but more the 'creepy bathroom' - no, I don't think the bathrooms and showers were creepy, it's just an "issue" that I have - still today.

I loved everything else about camp! Even the early morning wake-ups. Devotions by the flag pole - and you never knew whose underwear would be at the top when you went out there in the mornings. Breakfast - there was always bowls of prunes - which I think lasted all week because no one would eat them. Time for cabin clean-up, always a contest, so we had to clean really good (those camp leaders were pretty smart). Morning class - I still remember Exodus chapter 3 burning bush is in the left hand corner of the lodge - was a way we were taught to remember the Bible one year - it apparently worked. Lunch time - and oh please don't have someone pray for lunch who prays for every missionary on the mission field! Rest time after lunch, and then free time in the afternoons. Walks up to Cataract Lake, swinging on the swings, figuring out which boy we 'liked' -- and there were always the ones from all the other Foursquare churches in AZ to choose from -- andddd there were the years that Chuck Smith (before Calvary Chapel got so big he wasn't able to) came over and ran our camps, and Chuck Jr. brought 3 of his friends - OH YEAH! Cute surfers from Newport Beach, CA!!! -------- Time to get ready for dinner - trading clothes and looking cute for the boys. After dinner, back to the dorm to get our Bibles and head to the lodge for evening service. Time to strategically sit where the boys just might sit next to... I don't remember if one of the boys ever sat with me at camp (actually one of the surfer guys and I did get together at some point one year briefly...)

The evening service was always fun - singing (that's what we called it then), sermon and always time at the altar. THOSE are the times I remember the most! Times at the altar. God ALWAYS was there, in a magnificent way. Those encounters played a huge part in who I am today. Sometimes we were there really late, but we didn't care - well, as long as the snack bar was still open when we got out.

Snack bar, talking with friends, walking with boys (if we were lucky - I never was), and off to bed. Some of us didn't always stay in bed. Sneaking out and meeting up with the boys or ringing the dinner bell and sneaking back to the dorm -- only to find Mary Jane May sitting there waiting for us. Not sure why we thought we might get by with that. But as I look back, it was all good, clean fun (I think it was anyway - was for me). I could never understand it when I heard my friends say, at the end of the week, they were glad to be going home. I was never glad to leave camp - never! But the day came when I no longer went to camp. I was 18 or 19 and that would be the last year.

I always made sure my kids went to camp - and on the year I wasn't going to be able to make that happen - God provided. Thank you Pastor Don Price - thank you!! I will NEVER forget that.

This morning I had the privilege of taking one of my grandsons to board a bus for camp - his second year. The bus he boarded has AC, and plush seats and likely had no trouble making it up the hill to Prescott. I suspect the grounds are less primitive and they prob'ly won't waste their money on prunes for breakfast.

But I am praying the same Holy Spirit is there and these kids will have AMAZING ENCOUNTERS with Him - and He will rock their world, just like He did mine!

The legacy goes on ---- and I wonder if they have creepy bathrooms and showers.