God has provided me with a unique opportunity through my time at Camp Highland this year. Having just graduated from UGA back in May, I am currently searching for a job as a music educator; however, I felt that the Lord was calling me to return to serve at camp again this summer, which put a temporary halt on the job hunt. So to compromise, I remained at camp only for the first half of the summer, and now I am back at home to resume my search. At this point, there are no prospects, but the Lord has opened up the option of joining the full time staff at Camp Highland starting in the fall. I don't know if that is what He has chosen as my path or if it's just my desire to do what's easiest, so I still have a lot of praying to do, and I would appreciate your prayers on the matter as well.
Anyway, back to my original point, because I am now at home only halfway through the summer, my time at camp is still fresh in my mind. And in my journal. I was going back through my notes from the summer, and God brought me across several lessons He had introduced to me earlier and which are still very powerful and relevant now. So I am going to try to post some of the things He has been teaching me so far this summer.
One day during staff training, it was raining pretty hard during our Time Alone with God (TAG)—well, it rained several days during staff training, but God spoke through it this one particular morning. I am just going to record what I wrote that morning.
"We are having TAG time under a pavilion in the rain. The sound of water hitting the tin roof is roaring all around us, but our silence in communing with God is louder than the storm. When we were being briefed for today's TAG, I could barely hear the instructions. Now the roar of the rain has become louder and more awesome, but we are kept dry by the roof over our heads, and we continue to listen for Your voice.
In the storms of my life, I need to learn to sit and rest in Your shelter. Too often I stand and wander around in Your presence, complaining about the rain that keeps me from going out. But that is the purpose of the shelter in the storm: to keep us in Your presence and in the path of Your commands when everything around me will leave stains. I want to go out into the world and take on Satan's armies, but Your shelter lets me know that here is where You want me."
We have a pretty loud and talkative staff this year (not necessarily a bad thing—we love community), which has also been reflected in our campers each week. So for all 50-60 of us to be sitting silently under a single pavilion in the pouring rain was incredible. The silence was powerful and almost tangible, despite the roar of the rain. There's a lot of life's noise roaring all around me right now, and I often to contribute to it with my doubts and worry and my need to be active. But the Lord reminds me that stillness is not inactivity but holy rest. I need to remember to make time to draw back and be quiet and wait on God. This will give me the rest I need to regain my strength and energy for when the time comes to be active.
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