Serving in a camp with 20 ladies and 40-plus girls, quiet is not the first word that comes to mind. But so often, in the middle of chaos, God sends times of silence.
Last night was one of them.
The evening started with all the cabins cooking their own meals over campfires. Some had cheesy hamburger bake in dutch ovens. Some had walking tacos or hot dogs. Explorers had gourmet foil dinners with sweet potatoes, ham, and pineapple. Everyone had some form of marshmallow dessert – from original s’mores to banana boats to gourmet s’mores.
To the far reaches of the camp, girls were having fun. A few staff members kept a fire going after making their s’mores. (By the way, using a peanut butter cup in a s’more is delicious.) After cleanup, the divisions met together around their fires to sing and hear the campfire messages prepared.
And as they all trooped off to bed, as the lights went off, I found myself sitting alone by the campfire, waiting for other staff to join me. I watched the sun set with silver lining the clouds. I watched the stars come out one by one. I marveled at the trees surrounding the camp as they stood silhouetted against the sky. They appeared to be strong sentinels guarding us from the outside world.
I listened to the fire crackle as the wood turned to hot coals. The various glowing colors of orange, yellow, and blue stood out in the darkness. Flames occasionally lifted their colors around the logs.
And I felt the peace of God on this camp and on me.
With no one around, I felt compelled to sing praises.
I am not skilled to understand what God has willed, what God has planned. I only know at His right hand stands One who is my Savior.
I take Him at His Word and deed. Christ died to save me, this I read. And in my heart I find a need of Him to be my Savior.
That He would leave His place on high and come for sinful men to die – you count it strange, so once did I before I knew my Savior.
Yes, living, dying let me bring my strength, my solace from this spring that He who lives to be my King once died to be my Savior.
That He would leave his place on high and come for sinful men to die – you count it strange, so once did I before I knew my Savior.
My Savior loves
My Savior lives
My Savior’s always there for me.
My God He was
My God He is
My God He’s always gonna be!
I cannot sing of my Savior’s love without tears. When I comprehend His sacrifice, for me, for you, I am overwhelmed by His Love. His Grace. His Mercy. Him.
In the quiet of His creation, He allowed me time to truly worship.