At 12 years old, I hadn’t been away from my parents for more than a couple nights at a time.
That changed the summer after seventh grade when my best friend Kelsey invited me to Student Life Camp with her church’s youth group. A few weeks later, we loaded up in 15-passenger vans and made the pilgrimage from Killen, Alabama, to Shocco Springs Baptist Conference Center, a little haven near Talladega.
I had a mouth full of braces, a suitcase full of conservative-length shorts, and no idea that I was heading to the place where I’d later have my first one-on-one encounter with the Living God.
Shaping my faith, 5 days at a time
Lately, my Facebook memories have been overflowing with camp photos. Bathroom mirror selfies, group pics on the four-square court, and “artsy” snaps of stage decoration define the first week of June in my memory.
I’m somewhere between Gen Z and Millennial, which means that a lot of my adolescence has been preserved on the internet for me—for better or for worse. That ever-updating highlight reel is often tinged with embarrassment, but the camp memories I’ve returned to over the last week or so have provided nothing but sweet nostalgia.
Although I only spent about four or five days a year at Student Life Camp, it plays a central role in the story of my walk of faith. Here are 3 short memories that illustrate why.
1. Hearing the call
When I returned to camp a second year, the summer after eighth grade, I was anticipating a lot: attempting to dominate late-night Bazooka Ball, spending my trip allowance on t-shirts and snacks, and leading my rec team to Spirit Stick victory were my main priorities.
I didn’t necessarily anticipate the transformative experience I’d have while there that year.
Now, when I recount my testimony of faith in Christ, those five days in the summer of 2011 play a part. Although I had already professed my faith and been baptized—twice—at that point, it was during that week that I encountered the Holy Spirit in a more tangible way than ever before.
I have experienced what I can only describe as God speaking directly to me twice in my life. The first one was during that camp, when I received a simple directive: “I want you to serve me.”
That kickstarted a paradigm shift in my faith.
2. Learning from others
Camp was also great because it allowed us to interact with and learn from other Christians. Through the years, we finagled our way into special church group time sessions with the camp worship leaders, experiences that shaped me as a music-loving teen and aspiring creative.
Some of the greatest lessons, though, came from those just out of the spotlight—the volunteers, staffers, and youth leaders who decided to spend a week of their summer wrangling stinky, loud teenagers.
Watching these people act out their faith by driving 15-passenger vans, leading small groups, heading up mission projects, and mentoring teenagers was more impactful than any message or worship song that might have been presented, though I may not have recognized it then. Now, as an adult, I not only appreciate their sacrifice, but aim to emulate their faithfulness to the church and its members.
3. Growing with family
For the first three years that I attended camp, I went as a guest with my friend’s church. By the fourth year, my dad had been called to serve as that same church’s youth minister, which made our yearly pilgrimage so much more special.
But camp was a family event in more than one way. Having grown up a minister’s kid, my church family has always truly been that—family.
Camp provided an opportunity for our youth group to grow individually and as a unit. Some of the sweetest moments happened during church group time, which took place after each evening’s worship service. We’d gather around boxes of cheap pizza and talk about the day’s successes and failures, sharing laughter, tears, and takeaways from our activities.
Now, nearly a decade removed from my time in the youth group, I realize how sweet those times were. Some of the closest friendships that I have today were formed out of that group, the experiences we shared together becoming a foundation upon which we’ve built years of game nights, Bible talks, and book club sessions.
Hopefully you enjoyed this walk down memory lane as much as I have, and if you’re featured in these photos, I hope you weren’t too embarrassed—in my defense, they are all on Facebook, so it’s really fair game.
I encourage you to take some time this week and reflect on the things that shaped your faith in its earliest stages (even if you still consider yourself a young believer). You may be surprised at how sweet the memories can be.
Now, LMK:
Have any camp memories to share? I want to hear them!
And a recommendation:
One of the best worship bands we had was Bellarive. Though, unfortunately, the band no longer plays together, they’ve got a couple of great albums you can listen to on Spotify and YouTube. Start with the song below—happy listening!