As a writer, and reader in high school English, I’m constantly looking for metaphors. Everything, absolutely everything, is a metaphor. Including the use of the word “the” in the third sentence of paragraph five. So I found a metaphor of my own. Well, technically it’s an analogy. This isn’t about technicalities though. It’s summer. I don’t have English class for another month, thank you very much.
The incubation period for the Ebola virus is 2 to 21 one days. This means that if you contracted Ebola, you may not know for three weeks. You’d be asymptomatic. Back up. Know what three weeks ago was?
Camp is an infectious disease. It’s been incubating. And now I’m showing some symptoms. Praise the Lord.
If you read the last post I wrote up here (shameless self plug), you’ll know that camp this year was so encouraging and strengthening and convicting. There were tears, there was worship, and so much growth. The past three weeks, all the truths and verses and the little things that stuck with me were stewing and swirling around in my head and violently boring their way into my heart.
And now it’s deciding to show itself.
Camp was so much. Here’s the big picture.
Camp was about hope. We defined hope as a “confidant expectation.” How much does that change the way we talk about God? Saying that you have a confidant expectation in His plans and goodness and faithfulness is exponentially more powerful. Camp was about knowing that we can have a confident expectation that our God helps, heals, makes and always keeps His promises. Camp was about comparisons and big things and scary things. Camp was about knowing that the Father is bigger than that. Than all of it. From when I feel completely inadequate and weak to when I cower in fear to when I think I can take on the world.
Camp was about identifying lies in my life and literally uprooting them with Scripture. Camp was being vulnerable with people I’d known for a week. Camp was about borrowing God’s faithfulness from yesterday to remind me that he is faithful today. Camp was about knowing that I need only be still, I am fought for. Camp was about the dust settle. Camp was about knowing that legalism negates grace, and that I’m free from condemnation. Camp was about making Jesus famous. Camp was about knowing nothing is without intention in the Lord’s kingdom. Camp was about up until now and from now on. Camp was about knowing that I’m perfectly made, but made to be not enough. Camp was about if it matters to you, it matters to God. Camp was remembering that the sweetest part of being lost is being found.
Camp is about choosing hope. Always. Even when I don’t feel like it. Camp is getting my daily bread and feasting on it.
This is how I’m going to remember camp. This is what my life looks like on the other side of the Jordan.
I’m still growing. Still learning. Still choosing hope every microsecond of my existence.
Also, Ebola is extremely contagious. Whatever camp is, the camp high, I hope it catches and infects the universe. Even if you didn’t go to camp. Choose hope.