By Gallagher Goodland
Summer Staff 2014
Preparation for my first week of
counseling was filled with hope and anxious thoughts. Hope that can be found
through Jesus in the work only one with the title ‘Son of God’ could do and
quickly followed by those unrelenting anxious thoughts of, can I do this? In my
time of prayer leading up to week one of counseling, I quickly found my answer
to this dilemma of, “Can I do this?” In short, the answer was a gargantuan no!
Thankfully for me and the rest of the summer staff, we had little need of our
own strength. With the grace given by God through the salvation from Jesus and
the empowerment of the Holy Spirit I was more than ready and able, we all were.
On Monday at 11:00am, that large
bus pulled up filled with 4th through 6th grade foster children. The staff and
counselors rush out with great big smiles; plenty of cookies and mixed fruit in
hand. One by one I watch as the kids slowly walk off the bus; some have a look
of remembrance given by the previous year, while others walk off the bus
timidly and unsure of the surroundings they have now entered into. After the
hugs and handshakes and how are you; two thoughts came to mind and the first
was unpleasant. Some smiled while others were shy and timid but all of them had
one thing in common, every child carried burdens, the ones most of us would
never experience. This image placed in my mind was quickly followed by an
overwhelming peace; the Spirit of God was about to move and do His work.
In my first week of counseling I
was given three campers. For this story, my focus will remain with one
particular camper named Kenny. Out of all the kids who came to camp that week,
Kenny was by far one of the most timid of the kids. I realized on day one that
this boy has been abused severely. In his mind he could do nothing right, every
action and every question was followed by “I’m sorry,” and “Are you mad at me?”
All day, every day, I would hear these words and my heart would break. What had
this boy seen in his short life, what acts of evil had been done to him to
cause such fear? I couldn't help but allow these thoughts to consume my mind at
times. By this I was compelled to be in constant prayer.
I had decided on Monday night
that I needed more time with Jesus before the start of each day. At 7:00am the
director would turn on the music (the Camp Alandale alarm clock). Between the
time it took most of the kids to actually wake up, brush their teeth, and the
constant need to stay by their side; having time to read God’s Word and pray
was seldom found. With that said, I set my alarm for 5:30am. That
gave me plenty of time to stumble around a bit until I woke up and could focus
my attention more firmly in God’s Word and in prayer.
It wasn’t enough for me, the small
Bible studies, skits and the few times of worship. It was wonderful and full of
God’s presence but I needed more. It brings great joy to my heart to say, it
wasn’t enough for Kenny either. Each morning, my alarm would go off at 5:30am and
each morning as I woke up to read and pray, so did Kenny. We would sit just
outside our tent; he would rest his head on my arm and listen to the words God
had to share. And that was our little routine, each morning. Kenny’s second
routine each morning, after 7:00am was to go down to the grassy area,
grab the toy lawnmower and begin mowing the lawn. You got to hand it to him, he
was consistent!
Each day, three times a day, we
would have our one-on-ones. For those who are unfamiliar with that phrase; a
one-on-one is a time spent with just the counselor and one of their kids (if
the counselor has more than one camper). During my one-on-ones with Kenny, not
much was said and I could see that he was afraid, unsure as to what would be
done if he would talk about his life to others.
On Monday, we just sat on the large
rocks overlooking the desert, I prayed for and with him. Tuesday we
prayed before starting and after praying he rested his head on my arm and said,
“I miss my mom.” I looked down and asked when the last time he had seen her. He
told me that it had been a month. I asked him if they were able to do anything
fun. Kenny sat up as quickly as he could, looked at me with the biggest smile,
and said, “Guess what? I got to go with my mom to McDonalds and have McNuggets
and fries! Chicken nuggets are my favorite and I got to eat all of them!”
A few minutes after talking to me
about the different foods that he loves he began telling me about his dad and
the fear he had towards him. Not much was said about his dad; after telling me
that his dad would punch his mom over and over again and in his anger turn to
Kenny and do the same. Kenny realized what he was saying and quickly put an end
to the conversation. He put his head back on my arms and started to cry. There
was nothing to say on my part, I just cried with him. Kenny had brought up old
memories, memories he had locked up. That night was the second hardest night
for him.
During most meal times, he would
barely eat his food. On Wednesday night, Kenny refused to even have a
bite. During our time in amphitheater, he was restless. He took his sunglasses
and started slamming them against the bricks then hitting himself on the head
while screaming that he wanted to die. The director and I were able to calm him
down and give him some words of encouragement. Thankfully, it was at that time,
his favorite song started playing and he snapped out of it and ran back to the
amphitheater so he could dance. For the rest of that night he was good, he was
calm.
The following day, the last full day
of camp, Kenny’s thoughts and fears came back with a vengeance. This time it
was all day with more outbursts of anger. He would constantly say, “You don't
love me, you hate me.” Or he would say, “I’m bad and I’m always going to be
bad.” I would hold him tight and tell him that I loved him but most importantly
that Jesus loved him, that it breaks Gods heart to know that he had suffered
and this pain that he felt wouldn't last. Jesus could take away all his
pain.
That night during amphitheater he
ran off during worship and began screaming and hitting his head on the ground,
I tried to keep that from happening so he ran inside, laid on the cold surface
of the tiled floor, and pulled his hoody over his head. I sat next to him and
allowed Kenny to vent while the directors calmly and gently tried talking with
him. It took everything I had not to tear up when he reached his hand out to
mine. We held hands for about ten minutes without a word spoken. After that, he
was ready to go back and by then it was just about time for the Pinecone Ceremony.
The Pinecone Ceremony is a time
when we play a soft worship song as the directors pass out a pinecone to each
of the campers, counselors, and staff. As we hold the pinecone in our hands, we
feel the sharp prickles; it’s a reminder of our past pain, pain that has been
inflicted on us but also the pain that we have caused others. After the song is
over, team by team we go to the fire pit and are able to place our pinecone, our
past pain, into the fire and just as Jesus can and will take away our pain, so
to the fire takes away the pinecone. By the next morning, there isn't even a
trace of a single pinecone; the fire would consume it completely.
Once the Pinecone Ceremony is over,
we play a few more songs, then stand in a big circle, placing our hands over
each others’ shoulders and sing one last song together that says, “Here we are,
standing together as a family… singing Abba, Father.” It’s a bitter sweet
moment. In one hand, the Spirit of God is there and you can feel it and see it
on everyone’s faces. On the other hand, it’s one of the last songs we’ll sing
together.
As I’m walking up to my tent after
passing out our camp T-shirt and doing all the things needed before bed; I
overhear Kenny talking to his friend as they walk just a few feet in front of
me. Kenny looks at his friend and asks, “Andy, do you hate the devil?” Andy
replies, “Yep, I sure do.” “I do too,” said Kenny. Then he asks, “Hey Andy, do you love
Jesus?” Andy looks at Kenny and says, “I really love Jesus.” “Me too,” Kenny
quickly replies. “Hey Andy, did you know that tonight, Jesus took all my pain
away?” Andy says without hesitation, “Yea, me too!” For the first time that
week since Monday, my heart was at peace and filled with more joy than I
could hold on to. God had completed what He does best, who was I to doubt God’s
work. That night my faith grew by leaps and bounds; I had seen the hand of God
change the hearts of these two little boys.
Spending just about every waking
moment with kids who desperately needed and wanted attention, I had found the
heart of God and I could understand more clearly the meaning of His words in
James 1:27, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is
this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from
being polluted by the world.”
That first week and the weeks to
follow, God had given me far more than I could give. He renewed my heart, gave
me a deeper understanding of who Jesus is and of His desires. I had been filled
with the fruits of the Spirit as it says in Galatians 5:22-23; practicing love,
joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and
self-control. By the end of the first week I had fallen in love with the
campers, with the counselors, and with the staff; I had fallen in love with
Camp Alandale.
