Lessons in the Layoff

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I remember the day well, October 7, 2019 — I was at my sister’s for a ten day stay with my nephew while she and her husband went on a mission trip to Macedonia. Kevin texted with the news that he had been laid off. We were fourteen hours apart, my sister was about to leave for the airport and I just wanted to go home. Teary and in disbelief I grabbed a notebook and wrote down everything he said; my mind was scattered and I knew when we hung up I would forget all the things he said. Severance, amazing. Benefits continued, blessing. Call our financial advisor, good idea. Hiring coach provided, wonderful. But even in hearing this I still had many tears, a few sobs and a little panic.

Lesson One — Lean in and listen
Feeling a little unsettled, Kevin had been praying about his job for awhile, and he reminded me that the last word he had heard from God was to ‘Stay put. Stay on this path.’ Okay we did that, but now what? Kevin said he planned the next day to be a time of fasting; he would go into a state park with his bible and a notebook, walk and sit in the quiet and seek to hear from God. Of course — lean in and listen for God. I knew at that moment we would be okay because Kevin wasn’t going to go forward in his own strength or wisdom, though he has much of both, he was going to be still and lean not on his own understanding.

Lesson Two — Go visit your Father
I waited the next day for the fast to end and Kevin to call. I tried to not rush him through what he was saying but I was anxious to hear what God had said. What’s next? I was wondering. Where do we put our feet? What do we do now? I couldn’t wait to hear what God said.

And here’s what God spoke to Kevin’s heart, I’m glad you’re here spending the day with me.

Of course. The Lord was happy his son had come to spend time with him, to be near his Father; that Kevin knew who to go to before any decisions or directions were taken.

Though I hoped for a billboard with a map in the woods that day, what we got was far better; the reminder that sometimes God wants us to just come and visit. He wants to know we love him for him, not for what he delivers. Can you imagine if your kids never just snuggled up with you, climbed in your lap, or if they only called when they needed something from you? Once again, I felt a peace wash over me, God is with us, we’ll be okay. The what, when, where, why and how could wait. God had led us to this job six years ago, and now it was gone, but we didn’t feel abandoned. Confused maybe, but trusting still.

Lesson Three — Its okay to not understand
When we moved to Michigan from Indiana for this job, I didn’t really understand it. We had just launched our last one to college, alongside a few close friends. I had planned to enter the empty nest season with walks and wine on the porch with one of my best friends who lived around the corner. But alas it was not to be. Instead I would move 80 miles away to a very small, but adorable and historic, town. And as it turns out our time here has turned into one of the sweetest blessings of our lives.

Six years ago I said I don’t understand this move, it’s not what I imagined at this point of my life, but I trust it. I was sometimes lonely that first year, but I also had peace. And so it goes again — this is not what I expected at this point of our lives either, it’s not what I would choose, but I trust it.

I’m leaning in, listening, visiting my Father, trusting and peaceful as we enter this next unforeseen season. It’s not what I expected, but I do have peace and I still trust what’s next.

Three Lessons in Such a Time as This

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“What remains after a storm is what we learn in the middle of the storm”,
this was from a teaching in mid-March from Lee Cummings of Radiant Church and has stuck with me in this COVID-19, quarantine, lock-down time. Back in March we didn’t really have any idea how long, or to what extent this “storm” would affect us. Or what it would reveal about us…about me. But I’m learning a few things…

Worship & prayer fatigue?
In March, beginning each day with a live stream prayer & worship time was exactly what I needed, it was centering and filling; calming to my soul. But on Monday of week 7, I watched my husband slowly climb out of bed and suggested that maybe we just sleep in. To which he responded by starting the coffee and getting the service pulled up. (So much for sleeping in!) That morning’s prayer addressed a fear that had crept in and by having it revealed, I had the opportunity to replace it with faith and trust; I would have missed all that if I had given into the fatigue of the morning rhythm we have established. Is it possible I had become tired of praying and worshiping daily?

I am a jealous God
In another message Pastor Lee said God is “exposing and dismantling the idols of our culture”. Well…and also my own. As our retirement account plunged day after day, after day, I found myself panicking a little. As investments were going down, anxiety went up. So where do you put your hope and trust, Sheri? Where does your peace come from? Ahhhh….an exposed idol. On some level, my peace and hope for our future was reliant on our retirement fund. Now, it’s good to be wise and plan for sure, but if that’s where my peace comes from then I have put my faith in something that can be snatched away quickly. I’m grateful this was revealed within me. As things are stripped away, can I still give thanks for that which remains? The answer is now yes.

Cast off every weight and hindrance
…they began to throw the cargo overboard…On the third day, they threw the ships’s tackle overboard with their own hands. Acts 27:18-19
When the cargo and tackle was loaded on the ship, it was needed and necessary. But there came a point where they had to rethink the load. So the challenge in this teaching was to think about any weight or hindrance, not so much sin, just unnecessary perspectives, mentalities, comforts and such that we don’t need right now. This was valuable for me; we have some big things coming up and I discovered I was clinging to thoughts, ways, and comforts that could make the journey more difficult. In identifying these, I’m able to work on offloading that which has potential to weigh me down unnecessarily.

Still learning and growing over here. Sometimes I take my eyes off the one who commands the waves and calms the storm and put them on too much media. Sometimes I feel the weight of the collateral damage of this time for so many and I feel weary and unsteady. But I am learning in the middle of all this, and when this storm is over I’ll be grateful for the lessons that will remain.

I would LOVE to hear what you’re learning in this time. Consider leaving a comment, maybe we can all learn from each other.

Be wise, see you soon.

He Can Move the Mountains

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In the course of our adoption journey, when I have been at the end of myself, with nothing left to give and seemingly nothing at the bottom to even scrape, God would give me this song ~

Everyone needs compassion
a love that never fails
let mercy fall on me…

~ and something within me would stir. When at church, I’d glance at our angry boy standing in the front row, right across the aisle from our pastor, and despite my anger, frustration, sadness or emptiness, I knew those words were true.

Savior, He can move the mountains
My God is mighty to save
He is mighty to save…

I could feel the mountain inside of our boy’s heart and mind. It was a massive, seemingly immovable barricade. The weight of that mountain and it’s jagged cliffs were hurting him, and me, and the rest of our family. It was impeding forward movement.  Each time I heard those words I was reminded God could move that mountain, that He was mighty to save.

So take me him as you find me him
All my his fears and failures
Fill my his life again…

Those are the words I would sing.

Shine your light and let the whole world see
We’re singing for the glory of the risen King…

In my darkness I could sing for the glory of the risen King.

In October of 2012 my husband flew 1,500 miles with our boy, leaving him in a program that was to allow him time and space to mature and heal. 1,500 miles away. In a foreign country. On a mountain. It was the next thing that was presented to us in our journey. It was not what I had expected. It never occurred to me when we adopted him that we would send him away. But maybe, just maybe God knew He could trust us to make this hard, right choice. I don’t know that, but I wonder.

CMA ChurchMany months later when Kevin and I flew down for our first parent visit, our boy was still angry. The last day of our visit was a Sunday and we went to church with him. The church is on the campus of the academy; a simple but beautiful little church. The pews face a wall with a large window, and out that window is a stunning view of a very large mountain. As I stood next to our boy with his own mountain, the visual was not lost on me. An obscure verse we read on a screen recently while visiting a friend’s church in Denver  ~ which spoke to me about our boy ~ was now put up on the screen in this little church facing the mountain, while I sat next to our boy. “OK, God, I see you.” I thought. Then the worship team led us in “Mighty to Save”. My heart lurched and tears streamed down my face, I put my hand compassionately over our boy’s hand with a love I hoped would not fail him; he stood there rigidly. But I was at peace because I sensed God was once more affirming that He was in this whole thing.

Even with this perceived affirmation I wasn’t confident we would ever see this mountain move. But I also knew my Savior had the power to move it. I prayed through that song that God would take him ~ with all his fears and failures and fill his life.

When we returned home my heart was heavy. That first Sunday as I stood in our church I pictured our boy in his church so many miles away. My mind wandered to that mountain out the window and the one within his heart. Then our worship team led us in “Mighty to Save” and tears streamed, I was reminded once more that my God is mighty to save.

On March 22, 2015, after two years and five months, in which our guy   s l o w l y   completed the program, he stood next to me in our home church once more, no more than a few inches separating us.

I quickly had this little conversation with God as we stood to worship:

God,
I know you brought our boy home. I know it’s true because he’s standing next to me. But right now, right here, it would be really cool if our worship team led us in “Mighty to Save”.

Wait…sorry God, it seems I’m always asking you, “Please give me a sign so I know that it’s you.”  I don’t need another sign. I have it ~ the sign is life size and standing next to me. Only YOU could have moved the mountain within this boy. I am grateful. I do not need more of a sign than that.

I started thinking of God telling Moses “…this will be the sign to you that it is I that have sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you will worship God on this mountain.” Genesis 3:12

I was at truly satisfied and at peace.

And then our worship team launched into “Mighty to Save”. I felt my knees go weak and there was no stopping the floodgate of tears as my husband reached for my hand. How could God be so compassionate to me? I don’t deserve it, yet he takes me as he finds me, all my fears and failures and fills my life with the lyrics and timing of this song again and again. How Great is our God?! Oh yeah, we also sang a chorus of that at the end of Mighty to Save.

Thank you, God for your compassion and love that never fails. Thank you for your faithfulness and providence over these many years and in the years to come. Thank you for the healing you have done in this boy that you grafted into our family. May we shine your light and let the whole world see, we’re singing for the glory of the risen King!

(We’re on day 8 of the reunification and it’s going well. He has matured much. He actually wants to be here now. He finally trusts us. He’s letting us in. I’m not naive, I’m aware there are likely to be challenges along the way, but with the mountain moved, the journey likely won’t be on such rugged terrain.)

Mighty to Save by Laura Story
How Great is our God by

Not to be Mocked

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All through the Skype session last week with our youngest and his therapist, these were the thoughts going through my mind ~ This isn’t going well. He’s disengaged. He doesn’t seem to care. He’s apathetic. He’s responding but with no conviction. This is where he spirals and sabotages progress. He’s so close to the next level, but could blow it this week. Oh my goodness, help me Jesus to help him see something new. It was an emotionally exhausting hour.

At the end of each session, he and I get 20 minutes alone to just talk. Most weeks, at some point I pull out my all-time favorite devotional My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers and read to him for that specific day. It’s bizarre so God-like how the days seem to match up perfectly each time I read to him from the book. So last week with nothing else to say during our alone time, I suggested we look at September 17th in the devotional and see what it says. It was once again amazing.

After an hour of speaking wisdom, asking questions, listening for clues – all to seemingly no avail – I read the devotion for that day and everything changed. He got it – he was being tempted by something that matched his disposition perfectly, and when he gained that understanding he independently put together a three-point plan to address that temptation for the coming week.

To reinforce his plan I put this on my Facebook: Prayers requested for the youngest who has a temptation before him. Praying for God to strengthen his hands, mind and heart for the very important work God has him on the wall doing. (Nehemiah 6) He identified a way out – may it be so.Thanks friends.

I squirmed when hitting “post”. I struggled when many friends from far and wide said they were praying, and when many more hit that “like” button, letting me know they were in it with us. What if he falls? What if he chooses the very thing that his disposition is vying for him to do. What if he steps in familiar ways that set him back?

We’ve been down this road so very many times with our boy. Pleading with God. Endlessly asking others to pray for him. Years of waiting and hoping and praying, and praying and praying. Was it even worth asking for prayers for this one – for this week – for this temptation? What if the temptation is just too great and the report is “Thanks for praying, but he fell.”? What would that say about God?

Ahhhhhh…and there it was. The question I had to answer. ‘What does that say about God?’ It didn’t take long for the question to become ‘What does this say about me?’ What is my disposition vying for me to do? Was it to rely on God’s performance in this situation? What if our boy fell? Would that change who God is?

These words floated through my mind ~ God cannot be mocked. (Galations 6:7) True. I believe that. Whichever way this week goes, whatever our boy chooses, God will not be mocked. Someone may be trying to mock my faith, but God will not be mocked. So I spent the week rooting myself in truth. God is faithful. God has provided – in too many ways to count, our boy will get there, even if he takes the   l o n g   way home. Pray matters, in Revelation 5:9 it says …Each one had a harp and they were holding golden bowls of incense, which are the prayers of God’s people. So yeah, really…prayers matter. God will not be mocked. I may or may not understand what unfolds this week, but this week will have no bearing on who God is. It will reveal parts of our boy, and parts of me will be revealed, but it changes God not. So it seems our son wasn’t the only one being tempted last week.

I had no idea what I would walk into today when the Skype session began. I wasn’t surprised to find our boy’s spirit somewhat downcast, but as we talked through the hour, it was all good news. During the past week he had taken no action that set him backwards. It sounded like he stayed on the wall and did his work. As we attempted to convey to him that he is doing such good work, he seemed unconvinced,  saying “It’s just going so slow.” Yep. It is. But it’s going. We have forward movement, stay on the wall, I encouraged…you’re doing it. I cried. He seemed to wipe some tears.

Moving forward when you’re used to backward can feel unnerving, uncomfortable, unfamiliar. We’re not sure just where to put our feet and its tempting to put them back in the old tracks that have paved the way to where we are. Last week he overcame the temptation that was thrown at him, this week – of course – there is a new one. Maybe it won’t beckon so large, maybe he’ll feel more comfortable traveling in this new terrain, but we’ll be reinforcing him with our prayers as he slowly moves toward the place he is supposed to be.

And whatever happens next week and the week after that, in my life and in yours, in triumphs and tragedies…God will not be mocked.
He is good.
All the time.

Unexpected Life

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Tree with LifeSometimes life shows up in unexpected places.

While walking my dog last night this tree stopped me in my tracks, it made no sense. How does this fresh & vibrant burst of life spring from what appears  to be dead? So many analogies to be made here, right? Especially if you follow Jesus – who happens to be all about bringing life from death.

Our son – many miles away, is beginning to display growth sprouts out of places that honestly were appearing to be dead, and so I found this tree an incredibly encouraging picture. We’ve seen our boy make right choices for periods of time before, “behave” if you will. But I’m feeling that is not what we are experiencing right now – I believe we may be seeing new growth. Actual new life springing from some dry and dusty places.

So, this tree…it created a meaningful and beautiful depiction for me. Not just of my son, but of me. I used to be the “dead” tree, but then I developed a relationship with Jesus. A relationship begun by a simple request that I knew I didn’t understand. At a Hearts at Home conference 15 years ago I sang the words “Come into my heart Lord Jesus” I prefaced those words by whispering, “I don’t really know what this means, but I know I mean it.” Some of my dry and dusty places were brought to new life after that whisper and song.

As I look at this tree I am aware that there are likely some places in me still that could use new life. I am reminded that even as I watch for and enjoy the new life beginning in our guy, I need to ask God to search me and know my heart – seeing if there are dead places that need new life within me.

 

Be still…

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February 22 ~
Be still and know that I am God.  Psalm 46:10

I pulled my all time favorite devotional (My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers) off the shelf this week so I could be reminded to open it. Sometime ago while straightening the house it made its way to the shelf where it has sat for a very long time. Paying bills by the computer just now the little book sitting here on the desk seems to be saying ‘Open up to today – there is a word for you there.’ And so I do…

Be still and know that I am God.  Psalm 46:10

Tenacity is more than endurance, it is endurance combined with the absolute certainty that what we are looking for is going to transpire. Tenacity is more than hanging on, which may be but the weakness of being too afraid to fall off. Tenacity is the supreme effort of a man refusing to believe that his hero is going to be conquered. The greatest fear a man has is not that he will be damned, but that Jesus Christ will be worsted, that the things He stood for – love and justice and forgiveness and kindness among men – will not win out in the end; the things he stands for look like will-o’-the-wisps. Then comes the call to spiritual tenacity; not to hang on and do nothing, but to work deliberately on the certainty that God is not going to be worsted.

If our hopes are being disappointed just now, it means they are being purified. There is nothing noble the human mind has ever hoped for or dreamed of that will not be fulfilled. One of the greatest strains in life is the strain of waiting for God. “Because thous has kept the word of my patience.”

Remain spiritually tenacious.

If you read this post about what’s going on with Mister, than you know it’s been a mentally, emotionally, spiritually exhaustive week. I’ve shed tears often, shaken my head a lot, been angry at the program leaders – and even God – if I’m gonna be honest. Although it appears as if there is nothing I can do to have the program staff hold Mister accountable to the program as presented to us, I just don’t know how to do nothing about this. I’m not wired that way, I have advocated for this child since I met him. I have worked for his emotional and mental health and spiritual freedom for eight years. I really don’t know how to do nothing.

Yesterday my friend Barb said the wisest most loving thing to me – she said, “Before he was yours, before he was given to his biological mom, he was the Lord’s. Offer him back to the Lord. For this week, do nothing, just continually offer him back to the Lord and give yourself time to heal from this disappointment.”

So when my mind begins to wind up, when I cannot sleep, when I want to get on the computer and send an email that says what I really want to say – I don’t. I stop and I picture my open hands holding Mister up to God. He is yours. You know everything that is going on in the program. Your perspective is higher than mine. I’ve still shed some tears, but they don’t seem to sting as much as before these wise words.

And then today, my old companion Oswald Chambers reminds me to be still and know that I am God. Be still. This aligns with Barb’s gentle words. And so it seems God isn’t completely silent, he is getting word to me, and I will move from barely hanging on to waiting on God with spiritual tenacity.

Anyone else need this message today?

My “Normal” is Not Her “Normal” Today

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I awoke this morning to a “normal” morning – no school cancellations or delays; a normal morning. (If you are a Fort Wayne mom – you KNOW what I’m talking about!) Before I pulled the covers back, my immediate first thought was that this was anything but a normal morning for a mom in Wisconsin.

Yesterday at 12:25 pm my daughter sent a text message to her dad and me telling us of the shooting on the Purdue campus, and that she was OK. We soon found out that the shooting took place in the Electrical Engineering building – a building our daughter, an engineering student, has classes within. She said she was headed to that building for a class when she heard the campus sirens; she ducked into the building next door to the Electrical Engineering building; police and ambulances were everywhere.

In the initial moments, with no other information available, I was just incredibly, selfishly grateful my girl was OK. Not knowing if there were other shooters, of if the shooter had been caught, I continued to text her to assure myself of her continued safety.

Then the news came of the arrest. Then the news of the death. Then the identities were made known and it all got a little more personal. I don’t know the victim, Andrew Boldt, but when I saw his picture and saw how active he was as an engineering student, I identified with him as a child much like my own. My heart instantly went to his mom – who likely just experienced four weeks of her son’s presence, laughter and hugs before sending him back to college for his last semester. I can only imagine how proud she was of him and excited for his future – which in a few short months was about to shift as he graduated from Purdue.

My heart agonized for her; this news would send any mom to the floor, in utter agony. The weight too much to bear, I cannot imagine how one gets up after receiving the news that her child was killed so senselessly . I just keep praying for her, for her husband, for the brothers.

There is another mom my mind keeps going to, the mother of Cody Cousins, the suspected shooter. I cannot even begin to process her grief and confusion. Her boy was also a senior at Purdue. When I look at his picture I see a typical college student – not a killer. I cannot imagine how his mother has gotten off the floor either.

As I woke up to an ordinary morning, poured my coffee and drove my daughter to school, I have carried with me these two moms – whom I can only imagine woke up (if they even slept) begging for yesterday to have been a horrific nightmare that surely will be over when they open their eyes. It’s been hard to even put words to my prayers for these moms, though I continue to lift up these women and their families – it’s the only thing that I can do.

Tomorrow I will drive to Purdue to take my daughter to lunch. I want to look into her eyes and hug her tight. Yesterday it seemed she didn’t quite know how to feel, or process this tragedy. When I see her tomorrow she will have been back in the classroom and may want to talk about how that feels. She will have heard stories of those involved – from the friends she knows who were even closer to the scene (one even ordered to the floor by police at gunpoint before being cleared and moved to safety) and I just want to offer her a place to dump all that out. May God guide all those who witnessed this terrible murder, those close to them, and the ones who don’t even know what to feel just yet.

The ripple effects are unknown and far reaching.

Signs Along the Way

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Putting this box together was a heart-heavy task. It’s been a year and seven days since we left our youngest in a program designed to help him work through the many issues that trap him. The academy he attends is the right place for him to be for now; right for him and for us. But even with that truth, there are times when it’s just hard. And sad.

In 2 Kings 20, King Hezekiah is told that God has heard his prayer and seen his tears and that his prayer will be answered – healing will come to king Hezekiah. Then the king does something I do too, he asks what the sign will be that this will indeed come to pass. I found myself asking God again this morning for a sign after reading those words – what will be the sign that Mister will be healed? I want to know this will happen. That I will see it. That I will see this boy, with so much potential, walk in freedom from all that was done to him and all he now does to himself. What will be the sign, Lord?

I keep coming back to this – God has provided. All along the way. My signs come in little markers that I must keep track of so that I remember we are not alone on this path, that God is indeed, providing all along the way. Here is how he has provided for today – our very good friend, who is like family to us and sits next to me many Sunday mornings in church, is at the academy this week where our son resides. She sat next to him last night. Right next to him. He asked her about our church. He wondered how we are doing since our pastor passed away almost a year ago. He remembered. He’s tracking time on something very meaningful to all of us – apparently even him. Which tells me he cared for Pastor Stan as much as Pastor Stan cared for him.

Our youth pastor sent him a few t-shirts from our youth ministry – reminding him that he is not forgotten. Our friend will give those to him personally. We also sent an early birthday gift, one that will be handed to him by someone he knows, an extra loving touch in addition to the box he will receive with the rest of his gifts on his birthday. God has taken what has been really hard for me and provided a way for me to feel some relief.

The tears I have shed over this box have caught me off guard; the reality is that even in all the rough, tough stuff, my heart loves this boy deeply. Though he challenges us to the edge of ourselves, my heart has claimed him.

God has heard my prayers and seen my tears. What will my sign be that this is true?  Today I am reminded that I’m seeing them all along the way.

Here is a link to a video from the school that our boy is calling home for now. Kevin and I met these boys this summer.

One Nation Under Prayer

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Neglecting my personal time with God – yep, that’s been me. That wasn’t my intention when we had family arrive in town for a week of visiting, my intention was to continue my Bible reading and dedicated prayer time. Also on the intention list was continuing to get in 10,000 daily steps as well as maintain the calorie counting I had been doing for weeks; I struck out three for three this last week.

But today is a new day.

This morning I planted myself in a chair with my reading plan, my Bible, my prayer journal and a favorite pen. What I experienced was reminiscent of “When You Give a Mouse a Cookie”. Here’s how it went…

I caught up on three days of reading (thank you YouVersion for working to keep me on track) – which meant today after reading parts of 2 Chronicles and  Psalm 48, I also read the entire book of Hosea. Which inclined my heart towards our nation, which directed my mind to our leaders, which led me to pick up my prayer journal, which led to a prayer for our Speaker, our President, our leaders, our people and our land.

This is not like me. I am embarrassed, and even a little ashamed, to admit much of what goes on in politics seems almost too big and complicated for my mind to process. It seems to me as if it’s more negative and more bi-partisan than ever ~ with much irresponsibility I ignore most of it. But today I felt strongly that I was to pray over all of it. So I did. Which then led me to wonder how my little, uninformed prayer could even matter.  Which led me to wonder if we, who believe in God, who lean into prayer and trust that it matters, we who believe our prayers are heard in the throne room, what if ten of us prayed for our President, our Speaker, our leaders, our people, our land? What if a hundred of us prayed, or a thousand, or more?

Which led me to be reminded that the prayer of even one person matters. Moses sought the favor of the Lord on behalf of the people (Exodus 32:14), Abraham stood before the Lord on behalf of the people of Sodom (Genesis 18:22-33). In Ezekiel 22:30 God was looking for just one person to stand before him in the gap on behalf of the land, but none was found. So, yeah, I guess my little, uninformed, probably very feeble prayer mattered today in the throne room.

But And…what if just nine more prayed? Or ninety-nine? Or nine-hundred and ninety-nine prayed. For our President. For our Speaker. For our leaders. For our people. For our land? Not for our perspective to be sought, but for God’s will to be done.

What if….

Church Camp – What it Can Mean

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While at church camp a little boy heard the message about Jesus – a message created for just his age group, a message he has certainly heard before but maybe didn’t understand.

My sixteen-year-old daughter walked by a fellow counselor (a good friend of her’s from church) kneeling down talking to a little boy – a wee one she had watched grow from a baby to a boy old enough to go to finally attend elementary school church camp. They were away from the group, which made her wonder if he was being reprimanded gently and lovingly reminded that there are still rules at camp that have to be followed. She hoped this wasn’t the case. But as she walked by she didn’t get quite close enough to hear any of the conversation, so she didn’t really know what the conversation was all about, she just knew it looked a little serious.

Later that day, when all the counselors were together, her friend told the story to the group of fellow counselors…

As he and his group of kids were walking through the camp that day the little boy looked at him and said that he had checked the box on the card the night before at the worship time that said he invited Jesus into his heart. The wee one told the counselor that he had never asked Jesus to live in his heart and he was wondering what that really meant. So the counselor, who had seen this little one grow in church, kneeled down and told him all about what it means to have Jesus as a forever friend.

What an amazing picture this creates in my mind, a wee one standing and a big one kneeling explaining what it means to check the box – to invite the Savior into your heart.

I just love church camp.