I was back. Nine months later. The same camp grounds where
it had sparked.
Sitting on the dilapidated remnants of an old wagon, the
morning coolness reached through my sweatshirt. I felt expectant about the
coming week of summer camp. I wondered why God had brought me back to this
specific place.
This place had seen the first unexpected tears that ran down
my cheeks when I realized God had never been the true Love and passion of my
days. Nine months ago I began to see. I peered into myself and glimpsed my
lackluster devotion to my Savior. I saw that I had only entertained passing
pieces of God´s Love for me and had never grasped them and made them mine.
Midway through the week of camp, I cried alone under the
night sky. I cried because I was seeing myself once more…I was seeing myself in
the eyes of each of my seven campers. Each one of them was me—a girl who
beneath all my exterior fronts would simply like to know whether there is such
a thing as true Love and how in the world to let that Love into my heart.
I looked towards the cots where the girls slept. My heart ached
for each one to know the Love of their Father God. Nine months ago a similar
ache was felt in God´s chest as He watched me sleep…longing to penetrate my
blind, oblivious, independent, self-centered soul.
I was back. Full circle. Amazed. Stunned by God´s grace in
my life. Hopeful that true Love would never stop seeking us.
Truly, each of those girls is no farther than I was from
hearing the whisper… “So listen, little girl, somewhere there´s a King who will
Love you forever. And nothing in the world could ever come between you, my
love, and this Lover.”*
*Taken from lyrics by Andrew Peterson
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