Giving His Love Away

This is an essay I wrote about Circle of Friends Camp last semester. It was for a contest and I won a monetary award, but more than that I appreciated the opportunity to share just a few of the many things God's been teaching my heart as I volunteer at camp. Also, I think it might help you gain a better understanding of this camp that I always seem to be talking about; haha, I really hope you're not too sick of hearing about it.

Giving His Love Away

Have you ever learned something that took your prepackaged and preconceived ideas and turned them upside down and inside out while opening the door to a totally new point of view? This happened for me at Circle of Friends Camp, a ministry to families with physically and/or mentally challenged members. Circle of Friends Camp takes place three times each summer at Camp Gilmont, a Presbyterian camping facility outside Gilmer. Through volunteering at camp, I have learned three paradoxical truths that have changed my life.

Because of my brother's challenges, my family and I began to attend camp when I was nearly twelve years old. Although I was shy, unsure of how to relate to challenged people, I enjoyed camp. I was struck by the way that everyone was encouraged to participate in the talent show, even if they just made wacky sound effects or told a corny joke. I began to see the value in a place where everyone was accepted, regardless of their physical or mental limitations.

Perhaps at a camp primarily geared for challenged people, one would expect to see some conflict or tension. Not at Circle of Friends Camp. The atmosphere is permeated with love, respect, joy, and peace. Each person is valued simply for who they are. The authenticity is remarkable--the way that people love each other and enjoy each other is not a mere farce. It is genuine.

Over time, I too became more comfortable around people with physical or mental limitations. I began to enjoy their company and to look forward all year to seeing them at the next camp. I soon became a volunteer, gaining the privilege of serving these people in a practical way by befriending them, assisting them, and doing my best to ensure that camp was a wonderful experience. I was thrilled from the first moment I donned the volunteer uniform--a brilliant yellow vest.

Through volunteering, God opened my eyes to the paradoxical lesson He had been teaching me all along--that no matter what the outside of a person is like, each person has vast value and worth because each has been uniquely fashioned by the hand of the Almighty God, who made all things good. God radically destroyed my subconscious yet utterly shameful notion that people with physical or mental challenges are to be pitied, looked down upon because they "aren't as good" as I am. As God taught me to look deeper, beyond surface differences, I began to find immense depth and richness within these people, gaining some very dear friends.

I see the second paradoxical lesson illustrated best in the lives of two of my challenged friends, Bryce and Janey. Bryce is a nine-year-old boy who doesn't see very well, speak very clearly, or walk very steadily. However, he is highly intelligent and he loves cars. Bryce and I spent a great deal of the camp weekend outside in the parking lot, looking at the vehicles. As we inspected cars in the hot summer sun, I grew inwardly impatient. I did not understand why Bryce could spend what seemed like eons staring at a car's taillight--that is, until Bryce taught me. I finally knelt down and he proudly showed me all the miniscule facets in the reflector plate. Bryce noticed pattern and detail everywhere we went--whether it was the facets in a reflector plate, the bristles of a pinecone, the texture of a straw hat, or the way that light danced between the fingers of his outstretched hand. Bryce helped me learn to slow down-to look at things with new eyes and to appreciate detail and pattern, the order and beauty in God's creation.

Janey is a fifteen-year-old blond girl whose frequent smile exudes pure joy. Even though she is sometimes ignored or made fun of at school--because she looks different, sounds different, and acts differently than the average fifteen-year-old-Janey doesn't really let it bother her. She lives above it.

Janey is the most authentic person I know. She says what she means and she means what she says, unworried about maintaining an image. So often I make decisions based on how I will look to others, but Janey is not bogged down by worry about others' opinions. She is free from that stress, and just being with her refreshes me, encouraging me to be more authentic and to worry less about others' perceptions of me. Janey is simply Janey--honest, real, and beautiful. She and Bryce have given me so much. Through them, as well as many others, God has taught me a second paradoxical truth--that often those who seem like they have the least truly give the most.

Serving at camp has been one of the most influential experiences of my life thus far. Camp is not easy. It costs me time, booking my holiday weekends. It costs me energy, requiring work to help things run smoothly. It costs me effort, doing my best to help a challenged person enjoy camp, making it a special experience for them. It costs me love, choosing to lay down my personal agenda to serve and to bless others.

Giving of myself is hard. The cost is great, but the rewards are greater. I had no idea that servanthood would be so worthwhile--it is an understatement to say that it has radically changed my life. Through serving at camp, God has taught me far more than I could ever write here.

Don Lessin said, "What a privilege we have been given by God to be able to spend our lives giving His love away." Herein lies the third paradoxical truth: giving truly is a privilege far more than it is a sacrifice. While it enriches the life of the recipient, it changes the heart of the giver. I am privileged beyond words to have the opportunity to give God's love away at Circle of Friends Camp as well as in my everyday life. I will never be the same.