Life in the "real world”

One of my favorite closing retreat activities was discussing ‘fishbowl’ questions. We did this all throughout Closing Retreat at all sorts of locations — around the dinner table, in a couple of Indianapolis coffee shops, and of course all settled into our ‘spots’ on the Allisonville guest house couch.

One particular question that struck me came when Ella, Allison, Brian, and I were driving around Indy, the question of what the ‘real world’ looks like - post Peace Intern Summer. In that moment, I struggled to imagine that the world could look much different than how I’d always known it.

While I knew that I had just spent a summer away from my normal life, and instead connected almost exclusively with nature and the teenage culture, I was still the same me I was before. Even if I had been through this extremely life changing experience and my worldview was turned upside down at least once or twice, I hadn’t really changed. Seriously, there was nothing new or different about me now than there was in May! As I sat with those thoughts, I began to realize that I was not trying to convince anyone but myself.

When I entered our closing retreat, I was prepared for all of the fun things we would get to do. From matching tattoos and TopGolf to the State Fair and dinner at Cracker Barrel, there was no shortage of fun moments to be excited about. What I did not entirely expect was the emotional roller coaster the week would send me on. As Allison, Ella, and I closed this chapter of our stories together, we cried and hugged and laughed and did it all some more. My Peace Intern summer added two beautiful and amazing souls into my heart and my family with Allison and Ella. I truly could not be more grateful for their love and friendship in my life. When we all went our separate ways, I knew that in no way was this our ‘goodbye’, but just a ‘see ya later’.

I moved into college a few weeks later and began to get questions about my summer. People that had been following my journey were so excited to hear all about the fun adventures and silly stories I had from my summer. Others heard briefly what I did and usually became interested in how I got to spend my entire summer traveling and sharing about social justice with some super cool people!

All of this to say, I was non-stop talking about my time as a Peace Intern. When I wasn’t talking about my summer, I was waiting for someone else to bring it up so I could talk about it. My brain was non-stop thinking about the experience I just had, my newest friends, and the goofy memories from camps.

Now, not much has changed. I still think about my summer each and every day. I talk about my summer, in one shape or another, every single day. I still take any chance I get to bring up my funny stories, life-changing moments, or new friends I made along the way. And I plan on keeping it that way.

What I realized is that this summer did change me. It changed my perspective of the world and the ways in which I interact with my own concepts of justice, faith, and peace. Further, this amazing experience challenged me to get out of my comfort zone in ways I could not have imagined before. It challenged me to look at people and my relationships with them in new ways - ways that are more nuanced and comprehensive, but also more loving and forgiving. Most importantly this summer showed me that I have a future in my career. Not solely because of the extraordinary experiences and connections I made, but due so much to the future the church has.

The youth that I got to engage with through each camp I went to showed me hope for the next generation of the church and the next generation of peacemakers. I had the privilege to watch multiple youth find their voices in their sexuality, in their gender, and in their faith. All speaking up for themselves and what they know to be right, the Love of God is for All to rejoice in. I am honored to be changed by this next generation of our church, and I cannot wait to see what other amazing changes they have in store for us.

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Closing Retreat and a Prayer for the Future Peace Interns

If you asked me in the spring how I felt about accepting my position as a Peace Intern, I would tell you that I was scared and uncertain. I would tell you that I had no idea what was to come. I would tell you that I didn’t know if this summer would be quite as good as any of those I’d had in the past. 

If you asked me now, I would tell you that it was one of the best decisions of my life. I would tell you that this was the best summer of my life and that it has blessed me beyond measure. 

I can’t sum up all of the conversations, emotions and experiences of Peace Intern Closing Retreat. This blog post would become closer to the length of a short novel if I tried. But I can tell you that everything that transpired over that week affirmed and reaffirmed my call to ministry, especially as I got to be in the same space as Brian, Sarah, Maggie, and Allison again. It was a week that nurtured my spirit and brought me closer to people who now feel like my family. 

Here are some photos from our time together! 

Finally reunited with Allison and Maggie!

Wearing our matching Allisonville Christian Church Shirts at Sunday service.

Trying our hand at TopGolf!

Hanging out with Fiyori!!

We got to go to the Indy State Fair! It was AMAZING!!!

I love these two so much.

Indeed it is. (Thanks for hanging out with us at the State Fair Isaac!)

We got matching tattoos. The three doves represent each of us!

We got to hang out a lot with Sarah’s cat Charles.

This is my very last blog post as a Peace Intern. I’m sad that this chapter of my life is closing, but I’m endlessly grateful for everything I learned and everyone I met. I want to say a prayer for the next three Peace Interns. As Brian told us on our last day of Closing Retreats, the Peace Interns selected every year are an answer to a prayer. Before I even knew about this program, before I applied, before anyone at DPF knew my name, the previous Peace Interns were praying for me. It is my hope that this prayer reaches the hearts and minds of next summer’s Peace Interns, so that they may have a summer as beautiful as I did. Will you pray with me? 

Gracious and Loving God, 

Thank you for your creation of this beautiful world. Thank you for creating the people who founded Disciples Peace Fellowship, and for all of the Peace Interns who have come before me. Thank you for leading me to DPF, to Maggie and Allison, to every person I’ve met and shared your holy love with this summer. I ask that you be with the future Peace Interns as they find out about DPF or as they are considering it already. I pray that you help them to discern their path forward and that they can be prepared in mind, body and spirit for the joy and challenges their Peace Intern Summer has in store for them. They are each wonderfully and beautifully made–help them to be certain of that as they take on this honorable role of leadership for the church. 
It is in your many names I pray, 
Amen 

Airports Galore: Ella's Final Ratings

Wow, y’all. It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these. I’m committed to giving complete and honest ratings of all the airports I’ve been to this summer, so I’m going to do my best to remember all of the ones I’ve been in since Washington, D.C. Flying out of D.C. was kind of rough, but that was due to everyone deciding to fly United that day apparently. The bag tagging machine ran out of paper. It was a whole thing. But I made it out alive!

Flying out of D.C., sporting the usual thumbs-up.

Next up: DFW International Airport. Listen, I do NOT understand why people dislike this airport! I actually had a very pleasant experience both times I was there. Restaurants were conveniently located, security was a breeze, and people (TSA included) were really nice! I rate DFW an 8/10. Sorry, Mom and Dad. It was great. Also, pretty soon after landing I got to go to Buc-ee’s for the first time!!!

Me having a blast with the Buc-ee’s statue. 

I have to be honest. I have no recollection of the Houston airport. It was a very short connection. I think I’ll rate it a neutral 5/10. 

The El Paso International Airport was easy to navigate and filled with awesome art. It reminded me of my mom, who grew up in El Paso, and I felt at home even though I’d never been there before. Landing there was absolutely terrifying, but that was more of an airplane issue than an airport issue. I felt calm once I was off the plane and walking to baggage claim, and it almost felt like being in the Eugene airport again even though it bore literally no resemblance. Overall, I rate this airport a 7.5/10. 

Here’s the thing about the Phoenix airport: I completely forgot to rate it the last time I was there, but I’m pretty sure it was my connecting airport to Kansas City at the very beginning of the summer. This was an oversight on my part, but I’m making up for it with a stellar review! I probably experienced the lowest level of stress in this airport. It’s just so easy to navigate, isn’t too crowded most of the time, and has fantastic restaurants! I ate at a place called Los Taquitos–if I recall correctly, I had carne asada tacos–and they were delicious! This was also the airport where I had my longest layover, and while that may feel like a nightmare for some, it was the perfect time to relax and finish writing one of my blog posts. The Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport gets the highest review possible: 10/10.

They really were some great tacos.

And finally, the last place I flew into: Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. I’ve had decent experiences with this airport in the past, and this time was almost as good except for a slight mishap with luggage and having to wait anxiously for an hour for my guitar to come through at baggage claim (Southwest Airlines was the only airline that didn’t let me check my guitar for the gate this summer). Aside from that, this airport made me feel nostalgic about other times I’d been there, namely my junior year HELM fall retreat and the time I visited my friend Lucy, who lives in Seattle. I was glad to be in a familiar place for my final camp destination, especially with all of the exhaustion I was feeling from an incredibly long travel day. I rate it an 8.5/10. 

With that, my airport ratings for the summer come to a close! It has been amazing getting to travel to so many different places this summer. My favorite part of going to so many airports was texting the other interns, Sarah, and Brian when I was arriving or leaving, as well as receiving messages from Maggie and Allison when they were traveling on the same day as me. It was wonderful to be supported by my DPF family even when we were many miles apart. I rate this summer a 100,000/10, but what I experienced can’t truly be quantified by numbers. I can say now that this was the best summer of my life. 

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Peace Intern Movie Moments

As I began my Peace Intern summer, I imagined that all of the camps I would be visiting would feel like camps straight out of a movie. One thing about me is that one of my favorite movies of all time is The Parent Trap, starring Lindsey Lohan. I even printed out a picture from the movie to keep alongside my photos of beloved friends and family this summer. My love for this iconic summer camp movie has inspired me to watch as many summer camp movies as I could. With that being said, these movie tropes did raise my hopes pretty high for what camps would be like this summer. I traveled from camp to camp in search of my iconic Parent Trap experience (minus the hope of finding my long lost twin), waiting for the cinematic week of my dreams.

I had moments throughout my summer that felt like I was living my most fantastic movie moments. From walking on the tarmac to fly out of Asheville (DPF makes dreams come true!) to getting lost in the fields of Illinois only to find a little slice of Heaven within Camp Walter Scott, there were plenty of times my summer felt as though my most wild summer camp dreams were coming true before my eyes. Still, I wanted my picturesque Parent Trap daydream to come true.

Before dropping me off at the airport, my mom told me she suspected that my week at Crystal Conference Center in north-western Michigan may be just that. I loved her hope but I didn’t want to get too attached to the idea since it may not even come true. When I pulled onto South Shore Drive, I was met with the warm Michigan breeze coming off of Crystal Lake and I grinned thinking my mom was definitely onto something. By the end of my first night staying at the camp with the rest of the counseling staff, I called my mom and received her ‘I told you so’ speech that was much deserved in this case.

So, in honor of Crystal Conference Center’s cinematic week of camp, here are some of my favorite moments (in no particular order) of the summer in comparison to iconic summer camp movies and TV shows.

1. Camp Olympics → Disney Channel Games

At both Camp Christian and Camp Walter Scott, campers were invited to be involved with a unique kind of olympic games, camp olympics! As campers and counselors alike rushed around to win medals via broom and scooter ‘curling’ or gymnastics routines straight from the mat, I was reminded of childhood memories of watching my favorite Disney Channel stars competing in the most heated games of the summer. While there were no real winners or losers, the games we played along the way will always hold a place in my heart.

2. Walking on the Tarmac → Parent Trap Arrival Scene

DPF made dreams come true when I was able to walk on the tarmac to get aboard my plane in Asheville, North Carolina. Since seeing Parent Trap for the first time, I have wished for the time that I could walk on or off of my plane the same way that Hallie, or uh Annie, does to greet her dad. While I didn’t have the huge yellow duffel to complete the look, I’m sure that my 40 pound backpack did add to the overall cinematic experience.

3. Camp Talent Shows → Camp Rock

As the summer progressed, one of my favorite moments of the week became watching camp talent shows. They always consisted of campers showing up to show off their best and sometimes most strange talents. No matter the talent, I was sure to be entertained on talent show night. My last talent show of the summer was at Camp Crystal, where this Camp Rock dream was completed. As the acts finished up, the room transformed into the most exciting camp dance I experienced all summer. The dancing and singing that was happening on stage became a part of the crowd as the entire room was filled with song, dance, and lots of laughter.

4. Working on an urban garden → Hannah Montana Movie Arrival

As I arrived at the Dallas/Fort Worth airport, I expected to be spending my week in a completely metro setting. This quickly was proven to be wrong as on our first day of being there, we visited two different urban gardens. It was in that metropolitan area that I did the most weed pulling, uprooting, and replanting than I have anywhere else. On top of my lack of prior experience, I showed feeling (and most likely looking) like Hannah Montana being unexpectedly dropped off at a farm due to my state of end summer exhaustion and confusion. What started out as a shock from Texas culture and the heat of gardening in the Texas heat though, turned into one of the most unique and exciting weeks of my summer.

5. Prank Wars → Parent Trap Camp Prank scene

As I woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed on the first day of camp at Crystal, I couldn’t help but giggle at this immediate correlation between Crystal pranks and the pranks pulled by campers at Camp Walden in the Parent Trap. Who doesn’t love having your patio furniture on the roof for morning coffee?

6. Crystal Lake → Friday the 13th

Everytime I told friends that I was heading to Camp Crystal on Crystal Lake in Michigan, people looked terrified. They would laugh nervously before throwing in the classic, “You know that is where Jason Voorhees is from right?!?!?” While the similarities in detail are pretty tremendous, there is no killer loose in the woods or around the water. While you may have to watch out for Micheal Dirkson’s wild pranks, the only thing I feared at Camp Crystal were the erratic bicycle riders.

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Camp Gwinwood: A New Place to Call Home

When I arrived at Camp Gwinwood, it was hard to believe that it was my last camp of the summer. I had fallen into a rhythm of arriving in a totally new airport, staying with a stranger, going to camp for a week, and doing it all over again. I almost couldn’t imagine what life was like outside of going to camp. At the same time, I was unbelievably tired and ready to be done after my final week. I came to camp with a bittersweet feeling, with uncertainties about what would come next once Friday rolled around and it was time to head back home. But I also knew the second I arrived at the campground in Lacey, Washington that it was the perfect place to be for my last camp as a Peace Intern. 

I knew this for a couple different reasons. The first was that I was close to my home in Corvallis, Oregon. Being back in the Pacific Northwest gave me a sense of calm and familiarity that I’d been missing. The conifer trees that made the camp feel secluded from the rest of the world loomed high above ground. The air was cool enough that I could wear a sweatshirt–a welcome change from the heat and humidity of the many weeks prior. The lake at the edge of camp was a clear and dazzling blue, and just to sit near the dock and look out at the water brought a sense of pure peace. Being at the Gwinwood campground reminded me of countless other places in the PNW where my heart felt at home. The second reason was that my dad, Matt Gordon, was coming to counsel camp. Gwinwood staff was in need of more male counselors and he knew the director, Annie Grogan, so he stepped in! And what a blessing it was that I was going to see him after nearly two months of being away from my family. 

The beautiful trees and cabins of Camp Gwinwood.

Annie was the one who picked me up from the airport, let me stay in her apartment, and took me to camp on the day before campers arrived. I had a great time talking with her in the car. She had wisdom to share with me about growing up and finding my path in life. It’s comforting to be told by an adult that I can always change my mind about what I want to do and that all of my experiences will be valuable even when they’re unexpected. This summer I’ve made a big shift in what I might want to do, and while it’s exciting, it’s also scary. Annie wished me the best in my ministry, whatever that may look like. I was happy to spend this time in the car with her before we got to camp, especially after experiencing one of my more stressful travel days. 

On the evening we arrived at camp, I met the other counselors who I’d be spending the week with. I met Sarah Almanza, who I shared a cabin with along with the CYF girls. Sarah immediately asked me about my summer and how I was feeling as I unpacked, and was just so incredibly kind. I deeply enjoyed the conversations I was able to have with her throughout the week. I met Colin and Karla, who I got to talk and play music with at Campfire and Vespers each night. They’d been playing music at camp for years and had big books of songs to share. I was grateful for their wisdom. I met Doug Collins, who is a friend of my friend Sarah Zuniga and my pastor Zane Ridings. It was so cool to meet Doug! From the very first moment we interacted, I could feel the love and passion he felt for church camp and I was excited to work with him. We were assigned to lead a Chi Rho group during the week (our group name was the Silver Snakes, which I think is pretty awesome). Doug was also a longtime player of music at camp. That first night before any campers showed up, I got together with Karla, Colin and Doug and we played through as many camp songs as we could to prepare ourselves for the various musical moments the week would provide. It was a great way to familiarize myself with new camp songs (surprise–I hadn’t learned them all, even after being at four other camps!) and get to know the people I’d be playing with. 

My incredible dad and I!

Lovely view of the lake...

...and kayaking with campers during Waterfront Time!

Annie was the one who picked me up from the airport, let me stay in her apartment, and took me to camp on the day before campers arrived. I had a great time talking with her in the car. She had wisdom to share with me about growing up and finding my path in life. It’s comforting to be told by an adult that I can always change my mind about what I want to do and that all of my experiences will be valuable even when they’re unexpected. This summer I’ve made a big shift in what I might want to do, and while it’s exciting, it’s also scary. Annie wished me the best in my ministry, whatever that may look like. I was happy to spend this time in the car with her before we got to camp, especially after experiencing one of my more stressful travel days. 

On the evening we arrived at camp, I met the other counselors who I’d be spending the week with. I met Sarah Almanza, who I shared a cabin with along with the CYF girls. Sarah immediately asked me about my summer and how I was feeling as I unpacked, and was just so incredibly kind. I deeply enjoyed the conversations I was able to have with her throughout the week. I met Colin and Karla, who I got to talk and play music with at Campfire and Vespers each night. They’d been playing music at camp for years and had big books of songs to share. I was grateful for their wisdom. I met Doug Collins, who is a friend of my friend Sarah Zuniga and my pastor Zane Ridings. It was so cool to meet Doug! From the very first moment we interacted, I could feel the love and passion he felt for church camp and I was excited to work with him. We were assigned to lead a Chi Rho group during the week (our group name was the Silver Snakes, which I think is pretty awesome). Doug was also a longtime player of music at camp. That first night before any campers showed up, I got together with Karla, Colin and Doug and we played through as many camp songs as we could to prepare ourselves for the various musical moments the week would provide. It was a great way to familiarize myself with new camp songs (surprise–I hadn’t learned them all, even after being at four other camps!) and get to know the people I’d be playing with. 

Music on the first night.

The campers arrived the next morning and we got right into camp’s busy schedule. Something unique compared to most of my camps this summer was that Camp Gwinwood was all ages. The youngest camper was five and the eldest was eighteen. This made for a delightful dynamic between campers: they were able to find community in their age groups, small groups, AND across three different age groups. Older campers could be mentors for younger campers, and sometimes the olders learned from the youngers too. And Gwinwood was a place where everyone could safely be themself. Here, away from the outside world of school and difficult family dynamics, these kids could express themselves however they wanted to. That’s what I think is so important about camp, and why our church camps need to be kept alive: they are safe and brave spaces for young people to express who they are in a myriad of ways. This is the kind of space and the kind of world that God dreams of. 

One of the coolest activities at camp was the Gwinwood Olympics, a series of team-building games in which campers were divided into groups to compete against each other. I thought the  best thing about these Olympics was that each group was mixed in age. The youngest of campers worked with the oldest to work for the gold. The games were truly based on teamwork, not on which group was the fastest. I watched the campers on my team strategize, play, and laugh together and was blown away by their cooperation and kindness. I’ve probably said this several times in one way or another, but I’ll say it again: if these kinds of young people were in charge of the world, it would be full of more love, more joy, more peace. 

Teams assemble for the Gwinwood Olympics.

To prepare for the Olympics, the kids made flags that represented who they are. We got to make them too–see if you can spot my dad and I!

Leading a small group with Doug was some of the most fun I had at Gwinwood. The youth in our group were rambunctious yet thoughtful. Even though it was sometimes difficult to wrangle them for our small group meetings, they always had an everlasting energy that got me through the day, especially when I felt like most of my own energy was dwindling. It was a joy to spend time with them, whether we were discussing the keynote of the day, working on an art project, or simply goofing off. Some of the campers started asking me to sit by them at meals and dubbed me one of the “cool” counselors (which is probably the highest compliment a sixth grader can give you). We fell into a rhythm so normal that it felt strange and abrupt to leave on Friday. I cherish all my time spent with my small group and I am so excited for their journeys as they grow up. Silver Snakes are the best!!

Doug sewed us a Silver Snakes flag. So we were clearly the best group.

My dad pointed out that by the middle of the week, every adult had become the child version of themselves. They had all become silly and totally unafraid of judgment from others. I felt that happening to me as the week went on. It was nice to experience the world as if I was a young camper, even though I was also in a position of authority. Despite the “real world” worries that were starting to crop up for me again, I was able to let go of anything other than the present moment. I was able just to be. I eventually realized it felt like I’d been coming to Camp Gwinwood for many years. Maybe it was the familiar PNW landscape, or how many connections I found there, or just how welcome the kids made me feel–but whatever the reason, it felt like a place I could return to in the future. I’m lucky to live so close that it feels like a real possibility to counsel there in the future. 

Along with getting to do my workshop a few final times during the week, I was given the opportunity to lead a keynote for the kids and juniors. I’d prepared a keynote based on Philemon 8-17. I had plenty of experience speaking in front of kids, but I had very little experience with talking to them about scripture. I was nervous about whether what I prepared would make sense or be something they could interact with me about, but it went well! We talked about overcoming our judgements of others and accepting them into the family of God no matter who they are. The kids were receptive to the topic and had great contributions to make, and it kind of felt like I was giving a children’s moment in church. I was able to spend time with the younger campers outside of my small group and see the ways they were already thinking about establishing peace in the world. 

Each night, we gathered at the campfire to sing songs of fun and worship. Part of this time was spent with the kids, juniors, Chi Rho and CYF, and another part was just Chi Rho and CYF. I watched groups of campers do skits and tell jokes, lead songs out of a camp songbook, and read the words of institution for communion. I loved watching them all take the lead, especially when it was the youth from my small group. Interwoven with all of these parts of the campfire time were the songs we sang. Doug, Colin, Karla and I played classic camp songs to get everybody hyped up, and then ended the night with the slower and more meditative songs. I loved harmonizing with our little music group–it was some of the most sacred time spent at Gwinwood.

Singing with Doug and Colin before campfire started–I believe in this picture we’re singing “Take it Easy” by the Eagles.

Like almost every other camp I’d experienced before this one, we sang the Goodnight Song before sending campers off to bed. If you don’t know this song, it’s one that many church camps sing before bed, whether it’s as a whole group or in cabins (Maggie and Allison can confirm this as well). Here are the words: 

Lay down, my sweet sister
Lay down and take your rest 
I’m gonna lay your head upon the savior’s breast 
I love you, but Jesus loves you best
I bid you goodnight, goodnight, goodnight. 

When sung as a whole group, there are three verses. The verses go “sisters”, “brothers”, then “everybody.” I got used to singing this song all summer, and each time it felt special. At Tall Oaks in Kansas, the girls sang it while sitting together on the couches in the lodge. At Camp Wakon’Da-Ho in Kentucky, we sang it while holding hands in a big circle. At CYLS in Texas, I would hear girls singing it to each other while getting ready for bed. Even during Training Week, Allison and Maggie and I sang it one night as we were walking around the house and turning off the lights. Here at Camp Gwinwood, we were back in a big circle holding hands. And on the very last night of camp, we got in this circle for the last time. As we began to sing, I realized it was my last time singing this song at a camp for my entire Peace Intern Summer. I started to cry. By the time we got to the “everybody” verse, I was a complete sobbing mess. Church camp had brought me instant community wherever I went. It had become a new place to call home. Now, even if temporarily, I was leaving that home. After the song ended, many of the Chi Rho campers came up to me and hugged me. It was as if we’d known each other for many years. One young girl looked me right in the eye and said: 

“Come back next year, okay?”

I’ll do my very best to come back. I have no doubt that I’ll find myself back at some, if not all, of the camps I was blessed to travel to this summer. There’s no place like home. Thanks to everyone who read my blog posts this summer and to everyone who has supported me on this journey. I love you, but Jesus loves you best!

The counselors of Camp Gwinwood.

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Creation and Community at CYLS: A Meditation on Gratitude

I’m going to start this post the opposite way I usually do, by starting at the end of the week.

On the last night of camp at Christian Youth Leadership Seminar in Brownwood, Texas, I was invited to go swimming with the other adults after lights out. I debated it for a minute, as I would be getting up the next morning for a long day of travel, but I eventually decided to go. All of the pool lights and lights from surrounding buildings were turned off. There was laughter and banter as we got in the pool and tried to adjust to the darkness, and this was soon joined by murmurs of wonder as we began to look up at the stars. 

This is probably said a lot, but there is something about the stars in Texas that is remarkably different from anywhere else. And especially at a place like Lake Brownwood Christian Retreat, there’s very little light pollution. I could see so many amazing constellations and even witnessed a shooting star streaking across the sky. I floated on my back for about a minute, the chatter of those around me momentarily muffled by the immersion of my ears in the water. All I could see were stars, in all of their infinite glory. As I let my feet touch the pool’s floor and joined the group again, I couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky I was to be a part of the very same galaxy as the people of CYLS. What a joy it was to feel enveloped by God’s creation that night, to feel so small in relation to the stars yet so loved by the community I was witnessing it with. This moment felt representative of my entire week at camp, a week filled with wonder and gratitude. 

I arrived at the campground on a Sunday afternoon, tired from travel but happy to be back at camp. I was struck by the beauty and serenity that was around me as soon as I stepped out of the car. The campground was quiet yet full of life, with the constant trill of cicadas filling the air and a slight breeze that would pierce the humidity every so often. I was able to glimpse the lake through the trees at certain points and it was a clear and brilliant blue. I could hear the wind moving through the water and creating a gentle rushing. As I walked to the cabin with all of my things and paid attention to these sights and sounds around me, I felt utterly at peace. 

The first picture I took at Lake Brownwood Christian Retreat! 

My first evening in Brownwood was one in which unexpected connections arose. I met Becca and Scott Hardin-Nieri, the parents of my friend Liv who is in HELM with me. The plan for the night was to go to dinner with all of the adults and RYMC members. The Hardin-Nieris offered to give me a ride to town for this dinner, and we learned on the way that Becca went to college with my dad! When we got to the restaurant I met Bobby Hawley, a man who would be at camp for a couple days. I soon learned that he had counseled camp for my parents at one time. It was wild to be in the same room as someone who remembered my parents as teenagers, someone whom they looked up to all the way into their adulthood. As I sat at dinner and talked with Becca, Scott, and Bobby, I felt a surge of uncontainable emotions. To be given the gift of these instant connections with the new people in a new space felt overwhelming in the best way possible. The best way I was able to voice these feelings was: “I feel like I’m going to cry!” My tears didn’t come until later in the week, but I went to bed later that night with my heart warmed anew. 

Bobby and me. 

On the first official morning of camp, I went down to the area where the vespers service happened the previous night. It’s right on the edge of the lake, with water lapping up onto rocks just below the seating area and a cross that has clearly been there for many years. I made a habit of going there every morning before breakfast, just to be alone with the sound of the water and the morning birds. I even tried to sleep in one morning, but couldn’t ignore the call of the vespers area! There was a sacred solitude I found there, a moment of silence and appreciation for nature that healed a lot of the worries I came to camp with. Sometimes I played my guitar, sometimes I wrote letters to people I missed, and sometimes I just prayed. The space was one I could truly sit in for hours if given the chance. It was just one example among the wonders of creation I got to see during the week. Others included the lake where worship took place on the second night of camp, the expansive sunsets above the campground every night, the deer that wandered into camp during our evening of silent meditation, and of course, the stars. I found that one word resurfaced again and again at the sight of wonders like these: grateful. 

The outdoor vespers area. 

Becca and Scott were our keynoters for the week. They both influenced the way I consciously thought about gratitude throughout each day, in and outside of their keynotes. Scott talked to us on one of the days about “awe moments”, or moments in which we were overcome with wonder. He provided the example of being in nature and seeing something so beautiful that it couldn’t be captured in words. This is one of the ways to connect with God–through an awe moment. I felt that this perfectly described my gratitude as a result of witnessing creation at CYLS. Scott also talked about how it is our calling as Christians to care for creation because we love it so much. It was inspiring for me to think about the ways gratitude can be used as a spark for action and advocacy. 
Becca facilitated an amazing week-long project where all campers and adults wrote words and phrases on leaves cut out of fabric. The words reflected what had come up for us during Scott’s keynotes in the mornings, and they were all compiled and glued onto long strips of fabric painted with tree trunks. By the end of the week, the trunks were adorned by leaves and resembled colorful trees. The long strips of fabric were eventually cut into stoles and gifted to every single person at the final worship service. Watching each person receive their stole made me tear up. The installation of the stoles was a mark of each person’s dedication to leadership and ministry, whatever that happened to look like for each individual. I felt immense gratitude for all of these leaders and the great things they were bringing to the world. Receiving my own stole was emotional as well. I’m still discerning a call to ministry; it felt like a sign that I was on the right path. 

The strip of fabric where leaves were glued, eventually to be turned into stoles. 

Me wearing my stole! 

Rev. Katherine Wright and I after receiving our stoles. 

I turned 22 about halfway through my week in Brownwood! The Hardin-Nieris took me to lunch at Whataburger (my first time there…I’m sensing a theme this summer) and we shared what we were grateful for as part of our meal together. We shared about parts of camp, about parts of our lives outside of camp, and about each other. I felt so loved by Becca and Scott as I listened to them name their gratitudes for me and share stories of past camp and life experience. It was my very first birthday away from home, but it was perfect. Since that afternoon in town, I’ve made an effort to be more intentional with my gratitude. I name it whenever big emotions start to wash over me (which is often). I name it when I’m finding it hard to be positive. And I name it when I am filled with the giddy happiness that church camp often brings. 

Experiencing Whataburger with Becca and Scott. 

There are so many things I was grateful for at CYLS. I don’t think I can name them all in one blog post, but here are the ones that shine the brightest in this moment: 

• I am grateful for the youth who attended camp. They are passionate leaders, expert communicators, and brilliant humans overall. I was able to spend a little extra time with the RYMC members before camp began. I loved seeing their excitement in organizing and leading CYLS, something that showed through the detailed planning they had done in prior months. I actually had the pleasure of being with one of the RYMC youth during my Be The Neighbor week prior to CYLS, as his church was a part of that week’s mission trip. We found that we had many things in common: interest in future ministry, a passion for working with young people, and even the same birthday! He was wise beyond his years and a delight to talk to, and he often affirmed me and his fellow youth with kind words. I hope he knows what an impact he has made on his camp community. 

• I met many more amazing young people throughout the week, whether they were attending my workshop, sitting with me at breakfast, or playing card games with me in the cabin! It was powerful to hear about the hopes and fears they had for the future and what kind of a difference they wanted to make as leaders. It was a blessing to sit in on some of their workshops about identifying their spiritual gifts. I hope they know of the powers they carry within them to positively impact others. They certainly impacted me. 

Youth and adults on the first night of worship. 

• I am grateful for the workshop leaders and for the opportunity to lead my own workshop. The youth had a few required workshops to attend and were also required to choose from a variety of workshops that all met at the same time. Whenever I wasn’t teaching, I attended workshops led by other adults. It was an honor to learn alongside the young leaders who signed up for these–I am still a young leader myself, even with the 5 or 6 year age gap between me and most of them! I learned more about theological studies than I’d previously known, learned about some seminaries and the future options they present, and was reminded of my gifts as a leader. 

• I was able to teach my workshop on two separate days. I’ve continued to teach about the apartheid and genocide against Palestinians, facilitating a discussion and doing an art project. I continue to feel proud of the young people taking part in such a difficult conversation and contributing their art and writing. Both times leading my workshop at CYLS gave me insight into how these young people were feeling about the injustices of the world and how they wanted to make a difference. I thank them for giving me their time and attention.

• I am grateful for the music we were all able to share. I had the great blessing of singing with the camp music director, Steph Hord, on two nights of worship. I loved all of the songs Steph brought to camp and I especially loved listening to the youth hum and sing these songs throughout each day, between workshops and meals and everything else. It felt as if we were in perpetual worship, even outside of that nightly hour intended for it. On the last night of camp, right before we received our stoles, I led everyone in singing “Here I Am, Lord.” But Steph made an intentional lyrical change so that all singular pronouns were changed to collective pronouns. Here’s how the end of the chorus was sung: 

We will go, Lord,
If you lead us 
We will hold your people in our hearts. 

And so on. This lyric change and the earnest way with which it was sung by the camp was moving.
I looked out at the young leaders before me and knew deeply that they would continue to be led by God in all they did. 

Singing with Steph. 

• To return to the pool and the stars: around midnight, it was time to get out of the water. I reflected on all of my gratitudes from the week. I craned my neck to look at the stars again before going back to my cabin and was compelled to whisper a simple, Thank you. I directed these words towards creation, towards the CYLS community, and towards the God who created both. 

• Reader, I’m grateful for you. May you continue to witness and appreciate the wonders of creation, relationships, and learning in your everyday life. And may that gratitude propel you towards the change you wish to create in this world. 

Sunset on the lake. 

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Peace Can Happen: A Transformative Week at Peace Village Kids Camp

My week at Peace Village Kids Camp in Ruidoso, New Mexico felt like something of a miracle. Rui

doso was affected by wildfires just one month before camp. There was uncertainty among the camp directors about whether kids would be able to come and whether they were emotionally ready. The eventual decision they made was to do camp despite the hardships families in Ruidoso had experienced since the fires and flooding that came afterwards. It turned out to be just what the kids needed, and just what I needed too. The week was healing for all of us and I was able to witness the wonders of the sacred space Peace Village created for its young people. 

I received home hospitality from Rev. Tanya J. Tyler during my time in Ruidoso. Peace Village was a day camp, unlike the other camps I was sent to this summer, and it was wonderful to have a kind person to stay with. Tanya was a delight to talk to and I got to have many relaxing afternoons and evenings with her after camp. A couple times during the week, we took a walk with her dog Winston in Tanya’s neighborhood. We talked about life and ministry, as well as all of the recent disasters that had occurred in Ruidoso. She also took me out to dinner a few times and cooked for me, and I appreciated the quality time we got to spend over meals. I admired Tanya’s resilience and optimism in the wake of such stressful situations. Another miracle: no one in her church was seriously affected by the fires and all of their houses remained intact. I had a wonderful time with Tanya and I’m so grateful that she welcomed me into her home. 

Rev. Tanya and Ella

Peace Village Kids Camp took place at High Mesa Healing Center, where several retreats and events have taken place with the goal of resting and healing. Barbara Mader is the amazing woman who founded High Mesa Healing Center even before Peace Village Camp became a tradition. I had the honor of speaking to her quite a few times about her vision for the healing center, about the creation of a sacred space that people continue to return to. The work that Barbara has done as a healer and mentor is incredible, and she had a warm and inviting presence that made her such a joy to talk to. And so much of her love was for the children who came to camp each year. She assured me and every other adult and teen leader that we were doing important work just by being there for each child throughout the week. 

Arriving at camp each day settled my spirit, no matter how I was feeling before I got there. The trees of the desert look wildly different from the trees I have back home in Oregon, so I was constantly filled with wonder as I looked up at the trees overlooking the retreat center. There was a yurt where we did indoor activities with the kids and a pavilion where we did outdoor activities with them. My favorite part of the grounds was the labyrinth. It was formed out of dirt and what was probably hundreds of rocks, with grasses growing between and around the rocks without covering the spiral they were a part of. Some of these rocks had been painted by campers in previous years. They were brightly colored and featured words like “peace”, “love”, and “joy”. Before camp programming even started, the kids who arrived early would walk the labyrinth–sometimes together, sometimes by themselves. I loved watching them traipse around it, completing the journey all the way to the center and all the way out again. They hardly ever cut to the lines of the labyrinth and kept their eyes fixed on the ground, making sure they were headed in the right direction. Watching them meditate in this way, even if they thought of it more like play than meditation, warmed my heart. Peace Village Camp didn’t speak directly about God in its programming, as several kids attending didn’t attend church, but the Spirit was moving through the ways the kids showed up for each other each day and interacted with the space around them.

The labyrinth. 

One of the peace rocks from the labyrinth. 

My primary role during the week was to help with music, and it was one I was beyond happy to fill. The camp’s usual music director, Lou Ann Ellison, had to be absent for the first two days, so a woman named Myranda and I took on the task of learning some of the original songs she had written and teaching them to the kids, so that they would be able to perform these songs to their parents at the week’s end. The kids were in three different age groups that rotated over the course of every day, and each group spent about two time slots a day with Myranda and I. This became a great way to get to know them and their unique ways of playing and being present with one another. The smallest children were deeply expressive and loved moving their bodies to the beat of a drum or to the strum of my guitar. The children in the middle group were full of creativity and helped to create much of the choreography involved for some of the songs. The oldest group–made up of individuals about to be teenagers or already teenagers–took the lead on many things and acted as leaders to the younger children when groups were combined. I looked forward to seeing every smiling face from every group whenever they came up to the pavilion to work on music. The songs and dances we helped the kids create weren’t about being perfect or completely in key; above all, they were about unity and presence with each other. The first lyrics of one of the songs Lou Ann wrote perfectly encapsulated the message the camp was trying to teach all week:

We may look different on the outside

But we’re the same on the inside

Different people with the same dreams

Of peace!

It was awe-inspiring to watch kids as young as age 5 and as old as age 13 sing this song and dance in a circle. When they sang “We may look different on the outside” they all stepped back in rhythm with the drum, spreading their arms out. When they sang “But we’re the same on the inside” they stepped inward, this time extending their hands out into the center of the circle. Whenever these lines reappeared in the song, the motion of expanding and contracting of the circle would commence. It reminded me of the way lungs move in and out, in an act of constant breathing that can easily be taken for granted. The children moved as one lung, one entity, all working towards a common goal in their collective motion.

How beautiful this notion is: that we are all the same at our core, despite our outward differences. And how beautiful it was to listen to kids sing about this for an entire week and to join in. It filled me with hope, something that I was struggling to find this particular week. Time and time again, I find myself feeling hopeless about the state of the world. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard it preached that we must set aside our differences and become one, while at the same time witnessing the mistreatment of the poor, the oppressed, the marginalized. I also can’t tell you how many times I have been complicit in that mistreatment and turned away from its reality because it scared me to do anything else. But the song and the children’s passion in singing it reminded me that even in a world with so much imperfection, it is crucial to strive for change. There is immense power found in community. This power doesn’t require us to set aside our differences–it instead encourages us to acknowledge them, celebrate them, and then use our different gifts and lived experiences to achieve our goals. And the common goal of peace is a profound one. Even more profound is the way children have the capacity to believe steadfastly in peace, in treating others with unconditional and radical love. I’ve heard many adults struggle to define what peace means to them (myself included!), but to look at it through the eyes of a child is a perspective like no other. When asked what peace meant to them, the children had an abundance of answers: Love. Fairness. Kindness. The end of war. Making sure everyone has the chance to speak up. My greatest wish for them is that they carry these answers with them to every space they enter after camp, in their communities in Ruidoso and beyond. I have no doubt that they will bring peace wherever they go.

Dancing and playing with some of the younger campers. 

It was also amazing to meet Lou Ann when she was able to join us midway through the week to see what the kids had been working on. She took the lead with the music and dancing, helping all three groups work towards the final performance for their parents on Friday. I could tell how vital she was to this camp, this year and in years past, and how much everyone loved her. Using music as a tool, she created a space where talking about peace was simple and freeing. The kids were lucky to have her. Every kid should get to experience a love like Lou Ann’s. 

Lou Ann and Ella

Another thing I was asked to lead at Peace Village was Rites of Passage, an evening program that happened after day camp on Thursday that only 12 and 13 year old campers and teen counselors ages 14-18 participated in. Rites of Passage is about stepping from childhood into teenhoood and then eventually into adulthood, and the activities created for it each year are designed to help participants meditate on the transitions they will experience in life and the transitions they may be experiencing right now. I was asked to bring a few activities to do with the campers and teen counselors. I was honored to spend a few hours of my evening with a group of about nine young people. We started by singing songs together and walking through the labyrinth, meditating on things we wanted to leave behind as a part of stepping into new chapters of life. I decided to close with an activity from a curriculum my fellow Peace Interns and I learned about during our Training Week. The curriculum is called “Singing to the Lions” and it’s filled with activities that help young people think about their fears and struggles while also focusing on what makes them feel safe and loved. I led this particular group through an activity called “The Tree of Life”, an artistic activity that allowed them to reflect on their past, present and future and how their lives and identities might change. I drew my own tree along with them and watched them talk and joke with each other as they processed things that happened to them as they were growing up, both good and bad. 

A couple of the teen counselors pulled me aside before we left. They wanted me to privately read what they’d written. Adolescence is a tumultuous time of life; it sometimes feels like there’s a storm raging inside you with no clear end to the chaos in sight. Upon reading some of the things campers wrote on and around their tree about their lives, I recognized this feeling in them. I remember what it felt like to be 14, 15, 16, 17…the desire for inner peace was always strong for me during those years. I may never come across these youth again, but I hope they know that they are loved and that they will find peace within themselves. It is a long journey, and it is not always a linear one, but there are countless people in their communities and elsewhere who will help them face it. I am so proud of the youth who participated in Rites of Passage that evening and opened themselves up to exploring their origins and identities. I watched as they hugged each other and ran freely across the campground after our closing activity. Even while grappling with all of the hard things in their lives, they supported and affirmed each other in the process. They are the peacemakers of the future. 

This is what the sky looked like on the night we did Rites of Passage. 

My last day at Peace Village was a whirlwind. It was spent mostly rehearsing for the final performance, which was a combination of song, dance and acting. Some kids were excited, others anxious, but they were all determined to put on a show. I sat at the edge of the combined group of all three age groups, cradling my guitar and looking to Lou Ann for direction. After a couple hours of rehearsal and about ten minutes of letting the kids run around and get their sillies out, it was time to perform. A group of parents gathered in chairs lining one side of the pavilion and we began with the song I mentioned earlier. The kids did their circle dance, holding out peace signs on their hands as they sang: 

Different people with the same dreams 
Of peace!!

It can happen!

But it starts with you and me!

Yeah, peace is right here! 

You just have to let it be! 

Watching the groups band together and sing this in unison brought tears to my eyes. The earnesty and conviction on each kid’s face as they sang, It can happen! was a gift to behold. The simple message that peace can be a reality, that it can happen as long as we work together, lit up the space while the kids moved as one. They sang the other songs Lou Ann had written, and we ended with “Lean on Me.” The kids stood in a long line and put their arms around each other, swaying to the rhythm of the chords I strummed. I felt blessed to be in the presence of such a strong community, one that would undoubtedly hold steadfast even as its children grew up. This sharing of songs was just one testimony of the struggle for peace. I was certain that there were many more to come. When the performance ended, the children joined hands and bowed. They were the embodiment of pure joy. I was sad to eventually leave the kids and the Healing Center, but I carried with me the songs and gifts they offered up. May many others experience their light just as I did. 

To you, reader: Peace CAN happen. Whenever I doubt this, a child reignites faith in me through song, through drawing, through simply being in community with others and bringing their gifts to the table. Go out and seek peace through the eyes of a child. In doing this, you will find everlasting faith and everchanging love.  

A peace sign made of rocks painted by campers and counselors. 

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Catching Up with Maggie

It only takes a spark, to get a fire going,
And soon all those around will warm up in its glowing,
That's how it is with God's love,
Once you've experienced it,
You spread that love to everyone,
You want to pass it on.

- Pass It On, Kurt Kaiser (1969)

How is my Peace Intern summer already over halfway done!? It amazes me that this journey has been flying by so quickly! The compassion and kindness I’ve encountered already this summer have been truly life-changing, and I cannot wait to see what else this season has in store for me. So far I have been able to find elements of home at each camp I’ve visited. At the same time, all of these places have been their own unique communities that have welcomed me with loving arms.

To be completely transparent, I had no idea how to get these feelings down on paper or what exactly tied all of these experiences into a nicely wrapped blog post until one Sunday morning. I sat in the same back-row church pew that I have been accustomed to all of my life and looked up at the pulpit as though it were just another worship service spent at FCC Bedford. This one was different for one apparent reason, I was so sleepy. My eyes were having a hard time staying open, just as they were for most mornings of camp last week. I was exhausted. Not my normal college student kind of tired, but four weeks of church camp back-to-back with late nights and early mornings to boot kind of tired. That was, until, the sermon began for the morning and my eyes popped wide open. My home minister, Will Brown, began preaching on the concept of community and my mind was instantly flooded with all of the examples of community I have seen so far this summer. From the tradition of a community serenade across the lake at Camp Christian to Camp Walter Scott’s literal community of goats, I had so much to share about what I knew regarding community. As I continued listening though, I realized the message was something deeper; the point of Jesus’ community was to share His good news just as I have been doing as a Peace Intern.

Will then said something that brought me to tears; to plant the necessary seeds of God’s garden, we first have to go to new places. For me, it's been getting accustomed to the new place that has been the scariest. In each camp I’ve been to so far, my worst days have been Mondays. Sometimes I feel like a broken Garfield record going on about my disdain for Mondays. I’ve realized this is because, on most typical camp schedules, Mondays are day one. This means there is no community formed yet for the week. Sure people may know each other’s names or faces or have met before, but they have not yet experienced each other in the unique context of that camp week. Building that community takes time and it can be hard work sometimes, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it!

Photo shows a selfie taken by Maggie Lewis with a view of Allisonville Christian Church youth group and sponsors behind her, alongside Peace Intern Allison Nash and Christmount Director Rev. Rob Morris

The community I found at Christmount Christian Assembly was amazing, and super unique in its own right. From the first moment I spent hanging out with staff and counselors, I could tell that it was a tight-knit group of people who all had so much love for each other and the space they were in. I was introduced to campers for the week and we all got to try the slip-and-slide together, with every person there welcoming and encouraging me to join in their fun. As I slipped down the huge hill, there were cheers of my name from people who had only learned who I was minutes before. I was humbled to be welcomed into that community, even if our overlap was short. Another key member of this community is the trusty camp director, Rev. Rob Morris. From the first moment I stepped onto Christmount’s campus, Rob was around making sure everything I needed was taken care of. To have someone there who I could confide in, laugh with, and trust from the get-go was a powerful testimony to the love and community that exists within Christmount. The truest testament to this community that I felt all week came when I tripped and twisted my ankle on the final day of Allisonville’s Mission Trip. They were heading off to Charlotte while I was staying back at Christmount, which meant pretty much everyone I knew well was leaving. The anxiety surrounding that felt as though it made my ankle ailment 10x worse, but that pain subsided rather quickly when I was met with ice, a stool to rest my foot, and warm wishes from Rob and the rest of the staff. Rob’s jokes as we rode on the golf cart back to my lodging gave me complete assurance that this community consisted of good people, and I was quite lucky to be a part of it for even a short time.

While the Allisonville group was there, we had the chance to go on a guided nature hike of the North Carolina mountains. During this time, I learned about many of the plants and animals that live around Christmount. More importantly, I got to learn all about the interconnectedness of nature. In one instance, there was a kind of dirt in the area that needed a certain type of fungi that depended on a certain type of tree root to be in the same area, which also needed a specific kind of flower - all at the same time. This interconnectedness reminded me a lot of the community of us as a church, we need each other’s unique gifts to be able to be supported and uplifted in our own gifts. This idea was certainly not lost on the community at Christmount, a community I’m forever thankful to have gotten to experience.

Picture shows a group of CYF and Chi Rho campers alongside counselors and directors on the amphitheater hill at Camp Christian.

My travel day from Asheville, North Carolina to Columbus, Ohio began as a stressful one. The tiny Asheville airport was packed, but I was extremely early for my flight just in case so the timing worked out fine. My true highlight of the day was Disciples Peace Fellowship making my dreams come true as I got to walk across the tarmac to get to my flight, just like in the movies! While I have traveled by myself several times, traveling solo as a Peace Intern is somehow different. Maybe it is the anxiety of someone you’ve never met picking you up from the airport, or perhaps, like in my case, it is the exhaustion of carrying a 40 lb. backpack as your personal

item for the trip. Alas, my 40-pound pack and I made it to Columbus where I was immediately greeted with an essence of home as I got picked up by a stranger. The stranger/soon-to-be-counselor-peer came with a Polar Pop in hand - a large styrofoam pop drink that all locals of my hometown know and love, especially my mom. This sign of comfort, along with the corn and sow bean fields we passed on the way to Camp Christian gave me hopethat I would soon find my community there.

On the first full day of camp, counselors and staff stood at the front of the dining hall to introduce themselves to campers. We played an ice-breaker-style game beforehand to come up with fun facts about ourselves that campers would then guess. It was helpful knowing these facts about my fellow counselors as the only first-time visitor on staff that week. As I began to nervously sing along to the introduction song, I noticed the girl next to me dancing to the music and she gave me a warm smile. I joined in her dancing with my best ‘dad moves’ and she giggled before saying “I can tell we are going to be friends!” Our giggling and fun dance moves continued all week long, and I truly did find a friend by stepping out of my comfort zone on that first day of camp.

That interaction was only the beginning of wonderful moments that I shared with my fellow counselors that week. I made another one of my closest friendships while complimenting another counselor’s tye-dye Chuck Taylor Converse sneakers. Our laughter shared over the feisty mosquitos (or ‘skeeters’, as we lovingly referred to them), old rock and roll bands, and TikTok slang brought me more joy than I can express. I even got to meet a former Peace Intern, C Stonebraker Martinez, and I cannot say enough about how much our friendship and their mentorship have continued to impact me already. At the end of the week, I was treated to some much-needed and appreciated home hospitality by a friend I made at Camp Christian. Before taking me to the airport, she even took me to her favorite Thai restaurant and hauled me around from store to store in search of a carry-on to solve my 40 lb. backpack issue. Long story short, to say I was welcomed into the loving, inclusive, and courageous community of Camp Christian would be a ginormous understatement. Even while I was finding elements of home around each corner, I was also being encouraged by the counselors, directors, and campers to step out of my comfort zone. They gave me the space and comfortability to be authentically me while also expanding upon what that truly means for me.

Leaving Camp Christian, and all the people there that made up our camp community, was hard. I shed many tears on my way out of the gate and some more in the airport on my way out of Columbus. The good news is that my travel day was much less stressful since I had my new carry-on bag and the hope of not meeting a stranger on my next airport ride. This time, I was flying from Columbus to Indianapolis, Indiana, and would get to be picked up by my mom and best friends! While the travel day itself was not much different than any other Peace Intern travel day, the excitement of heading to my home camp for the week gave me much hope.

I showed up to Camp Bedford on Monday morning bright-eyed and ready for the new week after two precious nights of sleep in my own bed at home. The counseling staff for the week was filled with many familiar faces, bringing me tons of comfort from the very beginning. Going into the week, my excitement about being at Camp Bedford was also met with fears that others may not take me seriously or possibly even still see me as the kid I was when I attended as a camper. In Will’s sermon from Sunday, he talked about how intimidating it can be to try to make a difference in your hometown. Boy, was he right! My hometown is a wonderful Southern Indiana small-town and I’m so happy that I have their influence in my life. At the same time, it can be intimidating to stand up and be different in a place where it feels as though everybody knows your name or face. To no real surprise of my own though, Camp Bedford and the Explorer’s counseling and directing staff along with our amazing campers gave me the love and welcoming arms that allowed me to be myself.

Picture shows 2024 Explorer’s Camp staf in tye-dye t-shirts around and on top of a Camp Bedford golf cart.

I was humbled to be the first Peace Intern to attend a 4th and 5th-grade camp. The first few days took some practice to change my understanding of camp from the perspective of a high schooler to that of an upper elementary student. Their energy levels, sleep schedules, and overall attention needs differ significantly - who would have known?!? Nonetheless, their age did not prohibit them from understanding or engaging with the material I had prepared. I was astonished at the entire camp’s curiosity, bravery, and respect they exemplified as we discussed the concepts of sexuality and gender. I watched throughout the week as the campers created their own form of community, helping those around them who may typically be ignored. Even more than that, I saw each one of them experience what Camp Bedford has always taught me - the love God has for each and every one of us is unending and all-encompassing.

I left with a new perspective on the home I’ve always known. A perspective that was created through watching and listening to those around me about how they understand and love Camp Bedford in their own unique ways. I watched kids come out of their shells as the week went on, performing rap songs in the talent show. I experienced counselors who I didn’t know before become new friends who I can count on for guidance this summer and beyond. Overall, I learned to love my home in a new way from a new perspective. While it was a difficult adjustment at moments, it opened my eyes to the overwhelming resources and opportunities Camp Bedford has to offer.

Picture shows 2024 Peace Intern, Maggie B Lewis, and 2022 Peace Intern, Erin Gresham posed for a selfie in Camp Walter Scott’s dining hall.

My travel day from Bedford to Camp Walter Scott in Illinois looked different than any other Peace Intern travel day yet. Although it was similar to my travel day with Allisonville to Christmount where we drove for most of the day, it was much different because I was the one driving! This was my first ever solo road trip, and I’d say it was a great starter in prepping for even more to come. My drive was just under 3 hours long and was a nice chance to listen to some of my favorite new albums. Even though I got lost amidst the Illinois cornfields for a while, I eventually found my way to camp and the week was off.

As camp started on Sunday afternoon, I was greeted by many friendly faces. People were asking me about my summer, giving me ideas for workshop topics, and ensuring I was doing alright throughout it all. Truthfully, I was extremely tired and I think most people saw that even though I tried my best to have my typical first day of camp excitement. The theme of my week quickly became grace, something I needed to start giving myself as I usually give to others. One of the main themes of the curriculum that week was giving yourself the space and ability to ‘refill your bucket’.

One way that I refill my bucket is through talking to others. Just having human interaction and perhaps even learning more about a topic I'm interested in can make me feel recharged most of the time. These recharging or bucket-filling moments came naturally to me at Camp Walter Scott. Starting from the first day, conversations were easy to come by. From confetti canon laughter to deep discussions about peace and justice, there was always someone to talk to and help me refill my social battery. I even got to meet and hang out with Erin Gresham, a former Peace Intern! The conversations I shared with them helped to give me new perspectives on my summer journey, as well as how to confidently set healthy boundaries for my needs throughout the summer and beyond.

As the week went on, I only became more tired. There was so much fun and laughter happening around me, but at times, I was actually struggling to keep my eyes open. I gave my Implicit Bias Workshop on Thursday which renewed some of my energy, but it soon gave effects similar to that of a sugar crash. In short, my body was aching and I was too exhausted to stay upright. I practiced the ideas given to me about setting boundaries for myself and expressed these feelings to the counselors around me. My request for an early night to collect myself was not met with questions of why or murmurs of complaint like my anxious mind said it would. Instead, my boundary was met with kind words, hugs, offerings of aid, and even an offer to pray over me before I left for bed.

On Thursday night of camp, I sobbed as I had my bucket refilled when fellow counselors prayed over me and my journey this summer. It reminded me of my time at Camp Christian when another counselor offered to pray over me and his act of love gave me the emotional strength and stability to continue being there for my campers the rest of the week. This time was no different. As the group of counselors surrounded me, amidst the chaos of middle school campers running around, I felt a kind of inner peace that I hadn’t before. At first, I panicked though. How could these people I’ve only just met a few days ago understand my exhaustion and overall grumpiness? Then, as we quoted many times that week, I “epiphed!”

All of a sudden, the puzzle pieces fell into place. I realized that the curriculum I’ve been studying for most of my camps this summer centered around the idea of being linked together in love. More than that, the curriculum is about taking care of God’s children because of how much we are all connected. At that moment, in the dining hall of Walter-Scott, I was taken care of by my community. At Christmount when a twisted ankle felt like the end of my world, I was taken care of by my community. During the counselor prayer circle at Camp Christian when a friend prayed over me, I was taken care of by my community. While being nurtured and respected by my fellow staff at Camp Bedford, I was taken care of by my community. I needed my bucket filled many times this summer, and the people around me truly delivered.

These camps have also allowed me to grow in how I care for others. Before starting the summer, the responsibility of watching over and taking care of other people for a week at a time overwhelmed me tremendously. I knew it would be possible, of course, but to say I was nervous would be an understatement. By the end of my first week of camp, as tired as I was, I didn’t feel nervous anymore. That week gave me the confidence to keep going and growing. As the weeks have gone on, it has gotten easier. The consistent supply of mail, care packages, calls, texts, prayers, thoughts, and general good vibes have helped to fill my bucket immensely. Along with that, the people I have met and interacted with throughout this journey so far who have reached out their arms with love and hospitality have been my saving graces. I feel honored to be serving as a Peace Intern, but I feel even more admiration for the acts of love and peace I have received from the communities I’ve visited along my way.

Will you pray with me?

Dear Heavenly Mystic,
We thank You for the precious gift that is community. May we all be reminded of how much the concept and acceptance of community can bring love to all of our lives. Further, we thank You for the wondrous interconnectedness of creation. We ask that as we continue on our journeys of life we can see those special moments of mutuality and need for another. More than that, may we not be blinded by our dif erences so much so that we see our most important binding similarity - love.
Amen.

‘I love you but Jesus loves you best!’

- With love and peace, Maggie B

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On Coming Home: Peace Intern Week Five

Image description: The sun is setting over the Overlook Lodge, a large beige building. A path leads from the foreground of the photo to the lodge. Trees can be seen surrounding the building and path. 

I learned how to be myself at Camp Bedford.

Maybe “being yourself” is something that comes easier to others, but for me, I have always been worried that I will be too much. Too loud. Too in-your-face. Too weird. When I shuffled in to Camp Bedford with my duffle bag at age seven, I was welcomed with open arms, not in spite of, but because of how MUCH I am. Every time I drive through the gate at Camp Bedford, the air feels different. Love is more easily given. Forgiveness is more easily shared. I have always known that God is in this place because I can feel it. 

But this blog isn’t about my love for Camp Bedford, although I could write about that forever. This is about my Peace Intern Week at Camp Bedford, which was such a soul-enriching experience. And it all began in a Denny’s. 

Rev. Sarah Zuniga, the 2024 DPF Peace Interns’ amazing, gracious, hilarious chaplain picked me up from the airport and asked if there was anything I needed, and I said Denny’s. Of course. We had a very late dinner, my flight arrived in Indianapolis at 11:30 pm and we got to Denny’s around 12:30 am. We ate and compared notes, having not seen each other since training week. It was an incredibly restorative experience, sharing a meal and welcoming people to the table is such an important part of discipleship. I could not stop laughing with glee and blabbering about everything I had done so far. 

The next morning, I said goodbye to Sarah and grabbed my sisters and got on the road. 

They mostly slept while I got to pick the music (thank you Maggie for curating a very cool DPF Intern Summer Playlist) and admire the Indiana wilderness. I love the way the landscape shifts from flat farmlands to hills and valleys as you move further south. The wind screams “You’re home!” as I turn onto Sandpit Road. I have always loved the sound of the gravel as you drive through the gate. I stopped to take a picture as my sisters and I buzzed with excitement. 

Image description: A stone gate with a sign on the left side has a gravel path through the middle. The sign has a Chi-Rho symbol in the upper right hand corner and says “Bedford Christian Camp 1951”. There are trees and a white fence in the background. 

After settling in and making all the staff introductions, we headed to a Mexican restaurant in Bedford to get food before our staff meeting. The table chattered about old camp memories and new ideas. I felt ready. 

As campers arrived, I felt so blessed. Each person marched down the hill with their suitcase and bedding, offering a piece of themself to this new place. The Fish cabin had coordinated beforehand and had all ordered captain hats that they wore as they began to set up their beds. It’s such a unique feeling, watching campers set up cabins you used to stay in. Like echoes in time, I kept vividly imagining me and my friends decorating the same cabins, walking down the same pathes, singing the same songs. These memories were reverberating through my heart as I could already see the ways in which these campers were already so beloved by each other and the hallowed ground we stood on. It was a sight to behold. 

Each year, camp changes. There are new counselors. There are new bathhouses. The pool was redone and no longer has that weird metal pole in the deep end people would hit their heads on. The Craft Cabin has been entirely demolished and rebuilt. The camp is different from even when I was a camper. When I talked to my dad, I heard all of the ways in which camp changed from when he was a camper. The dining hall used to stand where the Quonset hut is now. The boys cabins used to be the girls cabins. There was no Overlook Lodge. 

But so much stays the same.

The songs and skits. The games we play. The get-to-know-you activities. I kept feeling this sensation of communal memory, especially as I watched the campers do the human knot with their small groups on the Grassy Knoll. I felt the trees and rocks sing to us. We have been here before. We have been connected in this place. We will hold hands and try to understand our new connections to each other and this place. 

Image description: a group of young people are holding hands in a tangled mess, trying to untangle themselves. Allison can be seen in the center left of the photo, as an elementary schooler. Circa 2010. 

Image description: a group of high school aged campers are holding hands in a tangled mess, trying to untangle themselves. Allison can be seen in the right side of the photo, as a senior in high school. Circa 2018. 

Image description: A group of high school aged campers are holding hands in a tangled mess, trying to untangle themselves. Allison’s younger sister, Serenity can be seen wearing red and blue tie-dye in the center of the frame. Circa 2024. 

Throughout the week, I bounced around with the directors and visited small groups. I heard discussions of love languages and personal hardships. I heard laughter and joy. I saw empathy and kindness. 

In the afternoons, I led a series of peace talks and then did my workshop. My workshop is all about disagreeing in a way that is respectful and constructive. We start with hot takes, opinions that might be inflammatory but aren’t necessarily important. Hot dogs are sandwiches. Pineapple belongs on pizza. Coke is better than Pepsi. It was such a gift observing the campers listening deeply, understanding their friends, and occasionally shifting their opinions because of what they heard. The goal is not convincing, it’s listening. But sometimes listening to new voices leads to change. 

And change is scary. 

It’s much easier to stick to the ways things have always been done. Tradition is comfortable and safe. It creates a rhythm to camp the returning campers and counselors can feel safe in. Tradition is an essential part of the fabric of the camp that connects us to campers past. 

I learned that I accidentally became part of camp tradition, and it’s quite a silly tradition. Years ago, when I was a camper, my good friend Shayna Hicks found a feather. We as the star cabin decided that we wanted to make up a dance, build a human pyramid, then hold the feather at the top of the pyramid. At the end, Shayna gave the feather to a freshman, Whit Wagler, so that she would carry on the tradition. And she did. Then, when she graduated, she gave the feather to Maya Norris. This year, I got to witness Maya Norris graduate and give that same feather to a freshman. It is incredible to not only feel connected to this place, but know that my actions have had a lasting, if not ridiculous, impact. 

Tradition is such an important part of camp culture, but it also can hold us back. If we clench so tightly to the way things have always been done, we are not able to reach out to new voices, new ideas, and new people. 

I have seen a lot of beautiful places and people this summer, and nearly every camp has to find the balance between tradition and newness. There is beauty in both, but we need to be able to understand that there is a choice being made either way. Camp Bedford was experiencing changes, with former Geneva campers attending Bedford for the first time, and they did an amazing job trying to create space for the Geneva traditions, while also maintaining Bedford traditions, and holding space for new experiences.

For example, I had never seen a group of stuffed animals witnessing a Twilight shrine wearing captain hats, and yet at Camp Bedford, it was a welcome addition. 

Image description: Inside of a cabin, a pile of stuffed animals are wearing captain hats staring at a Twilight T-shirt and copy of the Twilight DVD. There are nautical decorations taped to the walls and ceiling. 

Honestly, I think this is why I love camp so deeply. The moments of deep reflection, followed by insane ridiculousness. The deepest joy to comfort the most vulnerable hardship. Our love for each other flows deep and wide and our jokes abound like an ocean. It is a place of complete authenticity in both prayerful and playful moments. All of the camps I’ve visited have been phenomenal and I have been so grateful for every single person I have met. But Camp Bedford is my home. 

Thank you to all of the campers and counselors who made this week what it was. From our fearless leaders, Josh “The Iceberg” Jackson and Holly Black, to the wonderful counselors I’ve known forever like Haley Norris and Henry Street, to the counselors I’ve only known for a short while like Kevin Toth and Tim Trussell-Smith. You are all such a blessing in my life and I am grateful for all of you. 

And thank you to the campers. For being unapologetically yourself and open to new adventures. Thank you for teaching me and learning with me. Thank you, thank you, thank you. And the biggest thank yous to my sisters, Courtney and Serenity for being such a fun part of my first year counseling CYF at Camp Bedford. You are growing into such beautiful young people and I am so excited to continue to watch you grow in your life and faith.

Image description: Josh “The Iceberg” Jackson laughs at a skit that is happening out of the frame. Haley Norris is holding an orange blanket and staring at Josh. She looks surprised and amused. 

Image description: Allison and Serenity smile in a selfie with the Overlook in the background. They both are wearing tie-dye and Allison has chalice earrings. 

Will you pray with me?

Holy Creator, 
Thank you for giving us traditions that tie us to the people before us. Thank you for giving us new opportunities to create connections to the future. It is such a gift to meet new people and try new things and learn about your creations. We are grateful for all of the gifts you have given us and excited to see how we will move forward with you in our hearts. 
In your name we pray, 
Amen.

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The World That is Possible: My Week with Be The Neighbor

As I headed into my week with Be The Neighbor, I knew that I was being picked up by two interns who were working at the Washington, D.C. site, but I didn’t know much about them besides their names. From the moment I met the BTN interns, I felt welcomed and valued. Their instant hospitality was the first sign that I would have an amazing week full of love and learning. Jack and Campbell greeted me with big smiles and waves. They had answers to all of my questions as we drove to the Steinbruck Center (which I realized I’d stayed at before on a HELM trip!), and they checked in about whether I’d had lunch yet. These may seem like simple things, but they meant the world to this weary traveler. Doing two weeks straight of church camp is no joke! I found that it was easy to be in conversation with them. Despite all of my physical and emotional exhaustion, I felt like I was among friends. 

Jack and Campbell are some of the youngest BTN interns this summer, but you wouldn’t know that from watching them lead. They’re both wise beyond their years and incredibly compassionate. Jack possesses so much empathy and constantly makes sure that those around him are feeling good and understand any given instructions. He was able to navigate the city with over 40 people in tow, which included getting all 40 of these people on the metro. He did all of this with a positive attitude. He also managed to get up before the crack of dawn to go running each morning! Campbell is a bright spirit with a wildly funny sense of humor. Her joy was what helped me to get up in the morning and to make it through long, hot afternoons. She was an expert communicator and was always able to answer questions from the church groups to the best of her ability (when you have that many people staying in a hostel together, there are a LOT of questions). She faced any challenges that came her way with grace and composure! I was so blessed to work alongside Jack and Campbell–I couldn’t have asked for better people to spend a week in D.C. with. 

I was also blessed with the opportunity of working with Rev. Kelsey Cobbs, the site director for the D.C. BTN weeks. Kelsey is an absolute delight to speak with. She checked in with Campbell, Jack and I multiple times each day, whether it was to debrief our time spent at service sites throughout the day or just to chat. She made all the logistical elements of the week seem simple through organization and communication, and provided pastoral support along with this. We got to share our love for music when she played a few songs on the guitar I’ve been traveling with, and I had the opportunity to ask her some questions about ministry as I reflected on a new possibility of pursuing it. I was grateful to be in conversation with her during the week. 

One fun evening in D.C. consisted of going to get ice cream with the interns, Kelsey, and Kelsey’s spouse Rev. Colton Lott, who I know from HELM!

Every morning, we had a gathering in the Steinbruck Center. It was led by Jack and Campbell and always began with the same song. This song is called “I Will Sing of Your Love, Love, Love” and is one of the catchiest songs I have ever heard. I love its message of trying to live out God’s love and vision for a peaceful and just world. It’s based on Psalm 89:1 and Psalm 104:33. The refrain at the end of each new verse says: 

I will sing of your love, love, love 

For as long as I live. 

It was easy to get used to the song and I knew almost every word by heart at the end of the week. It might seem redundant to sing the exact same song every morning. But the more we sang it, the more I began to internalize its message of hope for a better world, of a collective mission to treat all people as neighbors. I found myself humming and singing the song as I went about the day and I noticed the youth and adults on the trip singing it repeatedly too. It was wonderful to witness not only how the message of the song got stuck in our heads, but the ways in which we were trying to live out that message throughout the week. 

Another message that stuck with me came from the litany that we read before each service day. It was near the end, and I might be paraphrasing here, but it said: “A world where everyone is safe and has what they need to thrive–that world is possible.” 

That world is possible. What audacity we have to believe this, right? In a world with over 100 million refugees, a world rife with hunger and war and genocide…to believe in a world in which all of these things are resolved is ambitious to say the least. But I think what we must take from this statement is that it is our duty as Christians to work towards this world. This starts with being neighbors in our communities, with learning about different forms of advocacy and figuring out where we fit best, with having difficult conversations about the ways that we have been ignorant or dismissive in response to issues that do not affect us. It starts with direct action. And each of us has the power to take direct action, no matter how big or small each act is. God dreams of a world where abundant peace is possible, and we must carry out this dream by turning hope into action. I saw God in the actions each young person did this week and it gave me hope for the world the litany spoke of. 

Campbell and Jack leading the litany during our morning gathering. 

I had the opportunity of volunteering at three different service sites with various church groups over the course of three days. The first was called Bread for the City. This organization provides food, medical care, and legal and social services to low-income communities. They are committed to doing justice in a way that is dignity-affirming; this was seen in the way both customers and volunteers were greeted warmly as soon as they walked through the door and how they were helped to access services they needed. We helped out with some of the food services, with most of the youth helping customers select food items or prepare bags to put food in. I pulled weeds on the building’s rooftop garden, where much of the fresh produce Bread for the City gives out is grown! The love and care that was being put into this garden in order to feed others was amazing to see.

The rooftop garden!

The second site we volunteered at was called Martha’s Table. They are working towards a “truly equitable D.C.”, providing food, physical, and mental health services to all neighbors who need them. We saw several families and their children come through the building to pick up free produce and to chat with their fellow community members. The youth filled bags of food for each customer and I sat with one of the Martha’s Table employees to give out free books and DVDs to those who wanted them. I got to interact with many children who came up to get books, and their joy was infectious. The employees who got us oriented and showed us what to do for volunteering were some of the kindest folks I interacted with all week, and I am in awe of how many lives they’ve touched (and I only witnessed a fraction of the work they do!). 

Posing outside Martha’s Table with youth and adult leaders of the Westwind church and Jamal, who helped get us oriented (second from left, in the red shirt). 

The final site was called Thrive DC. Thrive’s mission is to end hunger and homelessness. They serve people in crisis, giving out hot meals, showers, laundry, and hygiene supplies. They also provide services for those trying to break free from addiction and services for those who have been victims of crime. We spent most of our time at Thrive filling bags with canned food and cleaning up the common spaces. The Thrive community radiated so much love, even in the short amount of time we spent there. They are always in need of more volunteers– I hope they can reach more and more people as time goes on!

The church that Thrive DC operates out of.

The youth on this trip inspired me with their readiness and kindness at each and every site. The care they have for this earth and its people led me to believe that a world full of safety and security for everyone really is possible. They were wonderfully attentive during keynotes from guest speakers and had constant questions about what they could do to help with issues in their communities and the world at large. They are the definition of what it looks like to be neighbors. I hope they learned that they have immense power, simply by using their voices to speak up for those who are marginalized and doing intentional acts of service each day. I’ll be praying that they never forget this power. 

To you, the reader: You have power too. No matter who you are, where you’ve been, or where you might be going, you can strive for the peaceful world that is possible, where everyone has what they need to thrive. Being the neighbor goes far beyond a mission trip–it is a duty that is never outgrown, a calling that each of us carries. It is up to you how you will respond to that calling and how you will serve others. All I ask is that you hold love in your heart no matter what. Let’s sing of God’s love, love love, for as long as we live.

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An Airport Update!

I’ve encountered a few different airports in the past week…starting off strong, we have the Kansas City International Airport! I’ve heard that this airport was recently updated to be much better, and I certainly didn’t have any complaints! Checking my bag went quickly and smoothly, and I saw many beautiful art installations on the way to my gate. As an added bonus, DPF Mission Director Brian Frederick-Gray was also flying out of Kansas City!! I was able to attend Overland Park Christian Church in the morning and see him preach, and then we spent time together in the airport before I flew out. Having time to be with Brian and debrief my life-changing experience at Camp Tall Oaks was a blessing amidst a stressful day of travel. I rate this airport 10/10! 

 Brian and I hanging out in Kansas City! 

To pivot completely, my connecting flight on the way to Louisville was in the Atlanta International Airport. This airport is famously hated by many people I know, including myself. I only had ten minutes to get to my gate and board, and I had to take the tram! This will most likely be my least favorite airport of the summer. 0/10. 

Despite my unpleasant experience in Atlanta, I loved the Louisville airport! It was small which I appreciated, and baggage claim was not stressful whatsoever. Flying out of Louisville was easy as well. Both times I was in the airport, I encountered some very friendly strangers! I have to rate this one 10/10 too. 

I’m in D.C. now! I’ve been to the airport here before and I’m pretty neutral about it, so it gets a solid 7/10. Stay tuned for next week’s Texas airports (lower rankings might be on the horizon, based on folks I’ve talked to about flying there)! Thanks for reading!

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The Voices at Wakon-Da’Ho

I often think about the power of voice. Many people use verbal language to communicate each day, and the ways in which we use language, both formal and informal, carry innate power. We choose how to talk about ourselves and how to talk about and to others. Voices are also used for singing, which is one of the most powerful ways we connect as humans. I had the pleasure of serving at Camp Wakon’Da-Ho in Kentucky for a week, and what stood out to me most during this time was the way everyone around me used their voices to uplift each other through conversation and worship. 

The first way I immediately heard voices moving at camp was in the constant words of affirmation campers and counselors alike had for each other. Upon arriving, I heard the words spoken to me and to many others: “I’m glad you’re here.” This was a sentence spoken with complete sincerity that also seemed to say: “You will always have a place here.” The amazing thing about these words was that I didn’t stop hearing them throughout the entirety of the week. This was not only a beginning-of-week affirmation, but one that was repeated again and again. Even on the very last day, I heard and participated in the exchange of the phrase, “I’m glad you came this week.” There were countless moments of rejoicing in each other’s presence, of making it known that we were glad to be together. You might think that this repetition would bring the words less meaning over time, but it did quite the opposite: as I continued to hear them each day, I felt more and more at home. I felt like my presence at camp was fully valued, like I was perfect just as I was. I was able to look around and know that every other person at camp was perfect, too. What a blessing it is to be in community with people who affirm you so often, who are able to make all your worries disappear with a simple phrase. I’m glad you’re here. 

To preface the second way I experienced the power of voices during this week, I have a confession: I have always disliked most praise music. This could be because I prefer traditional hymns, or maybe because the praise band at one of my childhood churches (whose location I will not be revealing!) played songs that did not always reflect my personal theology. All this is to say, I did not expect to be as moved as I was by the music we sang in the vespers services. And yet I was. I had the opportunity to play guitar alongside Rob Shrader, the incredible man directing worship at Wakon’Da-Ho. Rob taught me a few songs that I’d never heard before and reminded me of ones that I had. Some of these songs fell into that praise category that I tend to dislike, but actually playing them in front of a group of campers and hearing the passion in their voices made me realize that these songs were much more than their lyrics. They were songs that the campers have been singing for several years. They were songs that allowed everyone to sing as quietly or as loudly as they felt led. They were songs that, above all, connected campers closely to God. I found myself overwhelmed by the message of the music as I strummed each chord, as I closed my eyes to better pick out the voices of the youth as they came together in the sacred space of Vespers. I also got to see each night at the campfire how much the campers adored Rob. They would shout out song requests or join in when they heard him playing something they knew. He lit up every space he was in, facilitating a time for community music that made everyone feel safe and loved. 

One of my favorite songs I learned was unaccompanied by instruments and was sung each day at least once. Its chorus features a call and response between lower and higher voice, joining in unison for the last line: 

Light the fire (light the fire)

In my soul (in my weary soul)

Fan the flame (fan the flame)

Make me whole (make my spirit whole)

Lord You know (Lord You know)

Where I've been (where I've been)

So light the fire, in my heart again.

I was struck by the beauty in this song’s simplicity and the conviction with which the campers sang it. The song was especially impactful when we sang it gathered around a literal fire. Each time it was sung, I looked around at the way the light from the flames illuminated the faces of the youth. They looked at the ground, at the sky, at each other–but no matter where they were looking, their eyes were full of devotion. I could see the fire they were singing about burning within them all week. I hope that fire lights the way on all of their separate journeys. May it never burn out. 

There was a third voice that was revealed to me this week. This one was a voice within me, one that I hadn’t heard yet. It surprised and moved me beyond explanation. It first appeared to me on the last full day of camp, when I was sitting with a few campers in the shade of a big tree. We were watching the riveting Human Foosball tournament play out in the distance and discussing future career goals when I was asked what I wanted to do after college. I said teaching was the route I had been on for a while and mentioned offhandedly that being a youth minister might be cool. One of the girls sitting near me looked at me and said, “If you were my youth minister, I would go to every single youth group meeting you had.” 

It was the brightest, sunniest day we had had all week, but I felt like a light had been turned on. 

I have never seriously considered ministry as a possible career path. It’s always been something I admired in my dad and the other ministers in my life, something separate from my own goals of teaching. It’s never felt like something that is for me. But here, looking into the eyes of this high schooler who looked back in total sincerity, I thought: Maybe this could be for me. Maybe it IS. 

This thought was joyful, scary, uncertain. It was many emotions that I can’t even name. All I knew for sure was that there was a voice inside me, telling me that this was worth exploring and that God would be with me through it all. I walked back to my cabin in a daze. I am grateful for that camper who spoke a new possibility into being. If she ever reads this, I hope she knows how much her words changed me. 

When it came time for our final vespers service that night, I was still turning all of this over in my mind. I watched Rob and the small group leading the service that night play music and began to cry, as I had the previous two nights. There’s something about worshiping in nature that is so utterly holy. Tonight was particularly beautiful. Before we did communion, the four ordained ministers at camp stood in front of the table. These ministers were Rob, camp director (and former Peace Intern!) Mike McColl, keynoter Mike Gatton, and counselor (and former Peace Intern!) Dan Lyvers. They invited anyone who had felt a call to ministry to come up to the front so they could be prayed over. Still in tears, I found myself walking to the front. I was embraced by the ministers and the campers who came to the front as well. We received the prayer with our hands turned upward in a gesture of receiving. As I hugged Dan before returning to my seat, he whispered: “Keep listening.” 

Once a Peace Intern, always a Peace Intern!

Thank you, Dan. I’m going to carry this message with me through the rest of the summer and through my life. And thank you, Camp Wakon’Da-Ho. Each and every one of you changed me far beyond my expectations. You nurtured me as if I were an old friend. You sang with me to bring me closer to our all-loving God. And you taught me the power of my voice in a new context. I hope to return one day. 

Readers, I’m glad you’re here. I pray that your voices will always be valued by those who know you and those who might not know you yet. Wherever you are in your journey, know that you are children of God and that you are loved. You are a gift to this world in your very existence.

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