Laurel Lake Camp

Friday afternoon I made the 4 hour journey to Laurel Lake Camp. Mind you it was supposed to be 4 hours. Somehow it managed to stretch itself into 5 and a half. With all the road construction and unavoidable back roads that lead to the tiny secluded camp, I didn't have much choice but to journey on, ever annoyed that the people in front of me were actually going the speed limit.
This summer I've been ripped out of my element time and time again. It's rather taxing, presenting your ideas and passion to a group of strangers and hoping that they come out the other side of the presentation having heard your message and (hopefully) loving they music in which it was delivered.
Oh Laurel Lake Camp (is the dearest and the best. haha). It was good times. I must say, Friday night sitting around the little Cabin Campfires relating and listening to everyones week, specifically how they were touched or moved by the camp experience brought back memories of my own teenage-infected time on that campus. But it was good, and they were good memories.
The last summer I worked there, I can remember standing on the balcony of the lodge talking to my mom. Besides the fact that it was such a beautifully starry night, I was on the deck because it offered me the best position, over all the acres of forest and field, for the strongly coveted semi sturdy cellphone reception. Rossiter really is deep down in the under belly of Pennsylvania. Anyway, Standing out there, mere months after I graduated from Blue Mountain Academy, I told my mom exactly what my heart was feeling. And that was what every college bound highschool graduate thinks of; what they want to do with the rest of their lives! And I knew, after all those weeks of singing for worship, of fellowship and seeing God work through a medium of concentrated faith and earnest action, that I wanted nothing more than to be a channel for Him to witness through. And my chosen medium, above all else would be music.
Friday night at the camp fires, when we all joined hands in the big circle and started to sing the last songs of the night, as we swayed and stared up at the glittery sky, the memory hit me. It hit me as a misplaced warm breeze in the cool night, oddly warming my body so that my hairs pricked and stood on ends. The breeze was inside me bowling over my organs till they were mush. It was as if He looked right back at me from the sky, scooped me up and gave me a kiss. "How great of Him," I thought, "to bring me back here when I've started my journey." Truly, how great of Him.
And the rest of the two day stay was a blast. I had a great time jammin with the staff on stage (mostly jumping around, but it was all in good fun.) It got to talk to the campers. Basically re experience what it is to live in a Pop Culture free environment. Gosh, it was beautiful.
The concert I gave was fun, even though it helped me realize some of my short comings and faults. But what is experience without learned growth in the end?
Denise, the camp director is a very special woman. It's true then, what the bible says about giving. If you give freely, you in return will be given to in an even larger and more astounding amount. Denise showed me that in a special way.
All in all it, it was good times. And now I ask God, what's next?