Summer Camp 2023 and Reminders That We’re Never Alone

I just came back from a week that I’ll never forget. A week full of laughter-filled moments and deep conversations and a break from the rushed pace of this life.

I’ve been a part of Awana program since second grade, and this ministry has impacted my faith in so many ways, especially through the summer camp each June.

It’s why the little mountain town of Idyllwild holds such a special place in my heart. For the past hundred years, it’s had a camp and conference center that’s been the setting for many life stories, including a part of my own.

Every time I go up that mountain, I feel closer to God. It’s like I’m able to stand on the mountaintop and look at my struggles from the perspective of His plan.

Before coming to camp, I was experiencing another stage of loneliness. It’s something that I’ve felt my whole life, but God used it to find me where I was at.

Because that week, I felt so many reminders that I’m never alone.

We’re never truly alone.

But so often this world feels like a blur of people coming and going, each of us traveling down our separate paths. And those moments when a stretch of our paths overlap, and the earth seems to spin a little slower as we experience the joy of community…

Those are the moments that I treasure most.

Making memories

The Bible studies, inside jokes, ropes courses, hiking, racing through the mud pit, playing basketball and card games, coming home with a shirt covered in signatures…

I won’t ever forget that week, and all the special memories it holds.

One evening, I ran into a friend from fifth-grade Sunday school whom I hadn’t seen in over four years—and hadn’t expected to see at camp. As we walked around, catching up on all that had changed, the moon shone bright through the shadowy pines.

There in the mountains, it was like we were actually closer to the stars.

My friend looked up and told me that she saw a shooting star. And then I looked up, and saw another shooting star fall at that exact moment.

It reminded me of how God will speak to us through the stars, if nothing else.

We’ll look up at the stars and realize that we’re not alone in the universe. We’ll look up and realize that every time a star falls and leaves its streak across the sky, it happens in a timing so much greater than our own understanding.

And when two friends suddenly cross paths over four years later… That happens in a perfect timing, too.

I love how camp brings people together. During a song in an especially powerful worship service, a friend from my church put her arm around my shoulder. It made me realize how much closer we had become over the past year.

And our friendship had started at camp a year ago, running together in the mornings and sharing a bunk in our cabin.

I’ll always remember how, when I crossed the finish line of my first high school cross-country race, she had been there cheering me on.

Over the years

June 2019. I went to this camp as a nervous little sixth-grader and my faith completely changed. I’ll never forget this day of splashing across the creek, following my friends into the snack shop and sitting beside them at the chapel service. And there, I could literally feel the Holy Spirit in my heart, as the lights went dim and a gentle song played.

I’ve felt His Spirit in my heart many times since. So many of those times have happened somewhere among those woods.

June 2021. I returned as a rising eighth-grader, confused by the pandemic and longing to experience an escape from reality. Only I found something better—an eternal hope for my reality.

June 2022. Last year, I came just before entering high school. I came with anxiety, emptiness, weariness—because life is a battle with its fair share of pain. And I came with my chains. Chains that my Savior had already broken but that I needed to leave behind at His cross.

I left my chains behind.

But sometimes I still find myself returning to them. Sometimes I take them up again, feel their weight again, let them define me again. It’s a process, but every time I leave them behind, my faith grows a little more.

And it reminds me of what our chapel speaker said this year—That the path of a besetting sin in our life is wide, and the exit is narrow. But the exit gets wider with every time you take it.

We all have our chains that we try so hard to leave behind once and for all, and maybe your chains are a besetting sin. Or maybe, like me, your chains are anxiety and perfectionism.

Even with those chains, there’s an exit path.

The exit path is a part of the race that our Creator set before us. And He will always provide us with that path—It’s “the way of escape” (1 Cor. 10:13).

And my exit path seems to grow a little wider every time I come back to camp. Every year, the hope of “running free” feels a little more possible.

At camp I ran down the familiar little mountain road again, under that pale pink sky, surrounded by the cool mountain air. Each run went by so much faster than last year, and it felt so much easier.

It’s a testament to just how much I’ve improved.

And this is growth—Running down the same road and realizing that this time, your steps feel a little stronger than the last. Running down that road again and realizing that your breaths come a little more easily with each day.

Growing together

The beautiful thing about the camp experience is how it draws you closer to God. Sometimes it’s in those moments when you’re by yourself that you realize that you’re actually not alone—because His Spirit is in you.

Like on those quiet walks back to the cabin, as the brisk wind blows past. In watching the creek, fuller than ever, run through the camp as a reflection of a mighty river. And in all the little wildflowers that bear testimony to how blessings come from rain.

There’s something powerful about finding God in the solace of the mountains.

But there’s also something powerful about coming together on the mountain and realizing that we’re not alone in this race of the Christian life. We had a guest speaker talk one night about the importance of finding others to “run with.”

Others to run with, because we weren’t meant to run this race alone.

As a little kid growing up in the suburbs, I would always hope that maybe one day… maybe one day, someone my own age would move in next door, and we could become best friends.

After a decade of living in that same house, it still hasn’t happened.

And that’s okay. A decade later, I’m able to see that I’ve had others there to support me all along.

In Hebrews 12:1, Paul describes how we are surrounded by “so great a cloud of witnesses”, and I love the camp experience because it’s a beautiful representation of that community.

Even here down the mountain, back in reality, I smile whenever I think of those who have encouraged me in my lifetime.

And that inspires me to keep pressing forward.

And as for you, my reader, I hope you’ve found your cloud of witnesses. Those friends who will remind you to look up at the stars. Those friends who will cheer you on as you run your race.

Finding friends like that isn’t easy. I know. Sometimes it takes a decade of living in the same house. Sometimes it takes a week at summer camp.

But you never know what seeds have been planted, just waiting to blossom in His timing.

Have you ever experienced summer camp before? Where do you feel closest to God and community? I’d love to see your answers in the comments below! 💙

Also, if you’re wondering about the cover photo, it’s me in the lavender fields of Cherry Valley, CA, which was on the way to camp. The other photos are of Idyllwild Pines.