Kitchen Table Wisdom

I never had the opportunity to attend church camp as a child.

Growing up on a farm, I didn’t need church camp to discover God in creation. Every sunrise, every field, every changing season reminded me that God was near. The farm became my first classroom of faith. I learned to see God’s fingerprints in the world around me—the beauty, the rhythms, and the wonder of creation.

What I didn’t have was a community of young people who were discovering those same truths. I didn’t have friends my own age who were asking the same questions, singing the same songs, or learning together what it meant to follow Christ.

Looking back, I realize that church camp offers something precious. It gathers children into a community where faith is lived together. It creates a place where young people can discover they are not alone in their questions, their prayers, or their journey of faith.

Years later, I watched my daughter find that community.

I can’t tell my daughter’s story because it belongs to her. But I can tell you what I witnessed. I watched a young girl find a place where she belonged—a community of children and counselors who were seeking God together. I believe that fellowship with other young people who were searching, questioning, and growing just as she was became a powerful part of shaping her faith.

She returned as a junior counselor, then as a counselor. She took a lifeguard course so she could serve as the camp’s lifeguard during her summers off from college. She gave back to the place that had given so much to her.

Today, she sends her own children to camp.

The songs fade. The cabins empty. The campfire burns down to ashes. Yet somehow the seeds God plants continue to grow. Years later, those children become the adults who encourage another generation to discover God’s love.

Sometimes God meets us in the beauty of creation. Sometimes God meets us through the people who walk beside us. Church camp has a way of bringing those two gifts together.

Next week, I have the privilege of becoming part of that story.

I’ll be serving as an art counselor at church camp, and two of my granddaughters will be among the campers. Nothing excites me more than sharing my love of painting and my love of God with children.

Our theme for the week is “In the Wilderness.” Through Scripture, creativity, and time together, we will explore the places where God meets us—even in places that are unfamiliar, uncertain, or new. We will create, laugh, learn, and perhaps make a few happy messes along the way.

Will every child remember the craft they made? Probably not.

Will they remember every lesson? Maybe not.

But they will remember how they felt.

They will remember a counselor who listened, a friend who welcomed them, a song that made them smile, a prayer whispered before bedtime, or the moment they realized God was closer than they had ever imagined.

Those are the moments that stay with us.

As a pastor, I’ve learned that God often does God’s greatest work in the ordinary moments we barely notice at the time. A kind word. A shared meal. A walk through the woods. A paintbrush in a child’s hand. These small moments become holy moments because God is present in them.

Perhaps that is the real gift of church camp.

It isn’t just one week in the summer.

It is a week that can echo through an entire lifetime.

As I prepare for camp this year, I find myself praying not only for my granddaughters, but for every child who will arrive carrying excitement, uncertainty, or even fear. My prayer is simple: that each one leaves knowing they are wonderfully made, deeply loved, and never alone.

And years from now, perhaps they will be the ones helping another child discover the same truth.

That is how faith grows.

One child.
One week.
One hopeful heart at a time.

Cathy D.