Ah! I've got it: camp. Or more specifically, my homecoming.
I'd been deeply involved in my church's high school ministry since I was a freshman back in... was it 2002?--up until I graduated in 2005, going to the high school study on Wednesday nights and a sort of spin-off house fellowship led by one of the youth leaders on Tuesdays, singing in the fledgling Worship Revolution Choir, going street witnessing with the SWAT Team on Friday nights, and attending Sunday night services with my friends (and, of course, with my mom, being unable to drive myself). Me and my proclivity for developing crushes on people bound to break my heart and never know it had gotten me pretty depressed and was probably a main contributing factor in causing me to pull away from my friends, none of whom I saw outside of church, and before I realized what had happened I had become completely separated from that whole ministry, not even attending on Sunday nights, and spending Wednesdays in the main Sanctuary with my parents. I stopped attending on Tuesday nights as well after becoming fed up with the people attending completely ignoring me, and descending further into my hermitage.
For two very blurry years I spent a good deal of my time volunteering in the church's evangelistic outreach Office of previous mention (whether or not any of those posts survived the recent freak spontaneous deletion is anyone's guess), during which time I learned a very hard lesson in the importance of guarding my heart against those whose personalities seem taylor-made for mine but whose spiritual priorities were ambiguous at best. Because of the crushing loss that resulted I spent much of this last summer in debilitating nausea and indigestion, having stuffed my emotions deep inside rather than face the harsh reality of the duplicitous nature of the former object of my affections and my own failure in being so very foolishly deceived.
It took me several months to recover emotionally, but after a few months I returned to Sunday night Bible study, driving my brothers as my "excuse" to myself, and allowed the Lord to really minister to me there, reconnecting myself with some family friends and relearning how to interact with my peers. Finally, one sunny Sunday afternoon late in the year I suddenly realized that I truly had moved on. I no longer felt the desperation of still being single at nineteen with no prospects, and discovered a divine peace in my heart about my future. I distinctly felt like I had been through a winter season in my walk with Jesus and was coming into spring. I even resumed attending the Tuesday study in December, ready to try once more to connect with my brothers and sisters in the Lord, though still a little unsure of their reception of the fundamentally changed me.
So early this year, after several weeks of prayer and seeking the Lord, I talked to my youth pastor about getting involved as a camp co-counselor again. It had been two full years since my first camp as a leader, and that time I'd had to leave early due to my maternal grandfather's unexpected departure for Heaven. While I was preparing for camp and attending the pre-camp leadership meetings I felt the Lord might be calling me to continue and expand my pursuit of Christian fellowship with people my own age, so I began attending the college and career group on Friday nights, and opening myself more and more to the godly people I found myself surrounded by, who have graciously reached out to me like I can barely recall anyone doing before.
Once I got up to camp the weekend before last, I realized the incredible opportunity before me once more to pour my heart into the young girls in the church and comfort them with the comfort I have received from the Lord Jesus Christ, rediscovering a passion for the youth in my own heart, long ago forgotten. And as the Lord ministered to me at camp, and used me to minister to the girls in my charge, I felt Him tugging at my heart to get more involved in the high school ministry.
My mother had been struggling with whether or not to remain in the women's Bible study on Wednesday mornings, and finally received such clear confirmation from the Lord that she (and I) dropped out. I immediately felt the Lord's peace about it, as I wasn't really growing in it, and leaving my study group in the morning allowed Mom and me to get enough sleep to be able to make sure my brothers, who are both in high school, were able to attend Wednesday nights. This was especially significant for me since Tuesday night's studies keep me up pretty late (especially when I do things like this at times like this---yikes!), and I have been seeing so much more spiritual growth in my life since I started coming again.
So finally this Sunday night I was able to talk to the youth pastor's amazing wife before study about getting more involved in the high school ministry on Wednesday nights, and was met with eager approval (I really love this lady--she's just so sweet and godly!!) and advice. And last night, I was back in ministry, to the delight of a couple of my young friends, and to my own grea blessing. I am currently looking forward to continuing to deepen my involvement in the ministry and am met with a deep-seated peace and joy, and a feeling of coming home. No fear or trepidation hold me back now, but faith and hope sustain and propel me in this race against time for men's souls.
I am home.
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