When I started this blog, I was visiting my grandparents in Lancaster. Now, I am sitting in Texas. In these three weeks between the end of camp and my departure for Uganda, I have/will travel from Pittsburgh to Baltimore MD, Rochester NY, Belton TX, and a couple places in between to visit friends and family. My aunt and uncle in Pittsburgh have kindly opened up their house to me as a home-base in between trips. On hearing my travel itinerary, my brother commented, "So, you're kind of a hippie right now." Personally, I think "hobo" is the more accurate term, but who am I to argue with a police officer?
With less than a week before my departure date, I wanted to take the opportunity to reflect back on my summer working at camp. Although I did not grow up going to summer camp, at the conclusion of my two years there, I'm a believer! I know I've said it before, but it is worth repeating: camp is weird. Super weird. And hard. And exhausting in many different ways. I still haven't quite recovered from the virus I caught the last day of camp. But it is also incredibly good. I don't have to understand the how or why to know that God does indeed use summer camp--as strange as it is--to teach people about Himself.
One of the themes for me that came up several times was that of living by faith. And it occurred to me that, at camp--when we live and work in a community of believers who are dedicated to sharing the Gospel with kids and each other--we can see more clearly than usual. If faith is the assurance of things hoped for, and what we hope for are the promises of God, and so many people stand ready to remind us of those promises, then, we can almost--almost--walk by sight.
In part, at least, I think that is why it is hard for many to leave camp. Many return to communities where walking by faith feels like a lonely struggle. A concern and sometimes criticism of summer camp is that it offers a "mountaintop experience" that leaves people only temporarily excited about their faith. At best, the "spiritual high" quickly wears off in the face of the normal routine. At worst, the mountaintop experience leads to disappointment, frustration, and despair because it is not sustainable. In all fairness, it isn't sustainable. Neither excited emotional states nor summer camp are sustainable. So why go to camp?
On a backpacking trip in the Wind River Range of Wyoming, I was introduced to the following quote by René Daumal:
“You cannot stay on the summit forever; you have to come down again. So why bother in the first place? Just this: What is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above. One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen. There is an art of conducting oneself in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up. When one can no longer see, one can at least still know.”
At camp, we are reminded of God's promises so regularly that we can almost walk by sight. "One climbs, one sees." And then we leave camp. "One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen." And that art that Daumal talks about, of living down the mountain in light of what one saw from the summit, that is walking by faith. When we do not immediately see or feel that God's Word is true--that we are forgiven and loved, that God is sovereign and faithful, that our Lord will never leave us nor forsake us--we can still know these promises to be true.
As I anticipate leaving for Uganda in just a few days, it is good to be reminded of what I saw while on the mountain at camp. I have never been to any country in Africa, and I cannot even imagine what adjusting to the Karamojong culture will be like. My grandfather, who is a retired pastor but still an active evangelist, advises newly installed pastors to "fit in." The new pastor is, well, new. New to the particular norms, ministry foci, challenges, traditions, and strengths of the community. Hence the instruction to "Fit in." Right now, I have absolutely no idea how to fit in.
My other concern at the moment is that I deeply desire to be useful and simply am not sure that I will be. Quick aside: my greatest fear in life is purposelessness. If I was not a Christian and did not believe in the sovereignty of God, I might be a nihilist because I don't know that I could be convinced that anything really matters. Thanks be to God, though, that that is not the case. Aside over. In sending me to Uganda, God does not guarantee my usefulness to that work. It is possible, I suppose, that I might spend 11 months wondering what I am doing so far from home. I hope not, but it is possible.
Walking by faith means trusting that there is a purpose, even if it is not my own usefulness. One of the Scripture memory verses from camp was Isaiah 30:18-21. Verse 21 says, "Whether you turn to the left or to the right there will be a Voice behind you, saying, 'This is the way; walk in it.'"
In spite of last-minute concerns and trepidation, I still believe that God is leading me to Uganda, and I am excited to follow. Throughout the last several months, my prayer has been, "Lord, if You open the door, I will go." A few days ago, I received my support update: between one-time gifts and monthly support pledges, I am fully funded! The Lord provides. And I infer that He is holding the door open. Thank you to so many people who gave. I am staggered by your generosity.
I fly out August 30.
Please pray for safe travels for me and for others from the mission compound both in the air and on the ground. Getting from the city of Entebbe to the village of Nakaale is evidently its own adventure.
Please also pray for me and the other missionary associates as we pack and try to put the rest of our lives in order.
