This Monday, July 1, I will be entering the church camp bubble where there will be few worries, no stress, and very little anxiety. There is lots of good music, singing, preaching, devotionals, recreation, cold showers, and that lovely camp food (yes, I speak with some sarcasm here.) I have decided that heaven will be a lot like church camp–except we will all have mansions, a delicious feast (which will not make us fat), and we will be able to see Jesus always.
Every year, I get to feeling the need to go to my church camp bubble and this year I have needed it for several weeks. I just need to get away from the cares of this world and the needs of others. No, camp is not perfect. The food, well, the Bogg Burrito has a reputation–if you know what I mean. The beds have been around since the Civil War, and in order to get cell service you have to stand in the middle of the field, hold out your tongue and lift your right arm in the air while standing only on your left leg. All of this pales in comparison to the love, joy, and peace I get out of church camp. At the end of the week we all leave full of, what our pastor’s wife has termed, “pumpedupedness”
On Friday, the church camp bubble will officially “pop” as we all arrive home and face reality. We will still have bills to pay, laundry to wash, grass to mow, and sometimes more serious matters to fill our lives. It makes me long for heaven even more. The older I get, the more I find myself understanding the saying, “Come Lord Jesus, come quickly we pray.”
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