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The Bottom Line – Camp is for the Camper

The Bottom Line – Camp is for the Camper

My camp experience began when I was about 10 years old. A group of boys from a small town in Georgia was loaded up in cars and driven to Camp Glynn in Brunswick, Ga., to attend Royal Ambassador Camp. That trip began my lifelong love for camp. I attended different camps several times after that.  Each experience changed my life just a little. The summer after my high school graduation is still one of the primary spiritual markers in my life. That summer I became a camp staffer in that first camp I attended as a boy. During the staff training week, I was taught a statement I have never forgotten. “Camp is for the camper.” The interpretation of that phrase for the staff was simply, it’s not about you, it’s about the experience for the camper. I can still remember that summer very vividly. I was a “cabin counselor.” We don’t use that term anymore. Each week I was responsible for the care of eight to 12 boys almost 24 hours a day. One week of that summer there were eight boys from inner-city Atlanta in my cabin. They had never slept in a cabin, ridden in a boat,...

Camp – My Story!

Camp – My Story!

I love Carson Springs and Linden Valley Baptist Conference Centers and Camps!  I love the locations and I love the ministry. But then, camps and conference centers have been special to me since I gave my life to Jesus at camp as a nine-year-old boy. It started with an invitation from my best friend in the fourth grade to go to camp with his church. We went to Camp Maranatha, which is located just off state highway 98 between Ila and Danielsville, Ga.  It was a rustic camp.  Boys stayed in a converted loft of an old barn in bunk beds. I remember we had Bible study and other learning activities in the morning and then, in the afternoon, we enjoyed the swimming hole in the creek. It had a rope swing over the hole that you would grab to swing out over the water and drop. There was horseback riding and I’m sure many other activities that have faded from my memory. At night, we went to worship.  It was held in an open-air pavilion.  The seats were tree logs that had been split and set on stumps.  The floor was sawdust. The preacher, who started the camp, brought...