Camp Zion

The reason for my absence of posts the last couple of days is currently the very thing for which I am most grateful.

I thank you, Father, for Camp Zion. Thank you for the campfires and sunsets, the laughs, the rowdy singing, the pensive, shining eyes that stare into the flames during devotions. 

Thank you for the waves, sometimes lapping, sometimes crashing, sometimes barely perceptible as the lake spreads out from the shores like a vast mirror, almost motionless. Thank you for the kersplunking of happy campers throwing themselves from the edge of the dock.

Thank you for the stars, uncounted and glorious in their silvery spread. 

Thank you the field, worn and beaten down by thousands of feet over decades of use. 

Thank you for the Throne Room, smelly and spidery as ever.

And thank you, by the way, for the innumerable spiders--detestable yet remarkable in every way. 

Thank you for the crunching gravel, the sawdust paths, the smell of pine. 

Thank you for the Stewarts and their years of tireless, faithful, and thoroughly effectual ministry, and for the hundreds of volunteers who over the years have made Camp Zion what it is today: a place to meet You in new and exciting ways, a place to live with and love people from every background, a place to bask, body and soul, in the warmth of your Son. 

I could hardly bring myself to leave.