By Sandra Bost
The other day I was scrolling social media, praying for the families affected by the tragic floods in Texas. I came across the video of the busload of girls being evacuated from Camp Mystic. The angle is from the back of the bus as they roll through the devastating scenes of the water-ravaged hill country.
The sight of uprooted trees, overturned cars, and flooded banks elicit many gasps from the rescued girls. Their repeated exclamations of “Oh my goodness” can be heard through their breaths, especially as the bus slows to cross a road as water rushes across it. The most touching part of the video, for me, is hearing their harmonious voices singing songs they have likely just sung the night before, around a campfire at their beloved camp.
One song, in particular, took me back to the summers I spent at church camp as a young girl. I can’t recall exactly how many summers I spent at my cherished camp, but so many of my childhood memories, the camp songs I still know, and foundational truths of God that I have built my life upon, were forged in those sacred woods nestled deep within the heart of the Blue Ridge Mountains.
I remember the excitement of packing. My mother was an exceptional planner. She thought of everything, and went through the camper “Packing List” with care to ensure that I was prepared. A quick Google search this week landed me on a current packing list that looks exactly the same as mine did in the early 80s. Under “Necessities” you will still find “Bible, journal, and pen.”
I don’t remember going with a group. I can just see Momma and me making the 2 ½ hour drive northeast. We’re probably singing one of the camp songs I learned from a previous year, or “jamming” out to the Maranatha Singers on the Moody Bible Radio station (if you know you know). If I close my eyes and focus on that inward eye as Robert Frost calls it, I feel excited as we see the sign for Camp Pinnacle, and wind our way around the lake, toward the retreat center. My mind races with all of the places I can’t wait to revisit and the new friends I hope to meet. You can bet I am also thinking of what I am going to buy at the cantina with the extra money Momma and Daddy put in my bag.
My favorite part of the camp day was Vespers (still on the current schedule at 7:00 PM). It was the time of day where all the girls would come together for reflection and evening prayer. This special time was always followed by singing songs around the campfire. My favorite song was “Pass it On,” a song written by Kaiser during the 1969 Christian Youth Movement. “It conveys the message that God’s love is like a spark that ignites a fire, inspiring us to share His Love with those around us” (Copilot).
As a girl on fire after camp, I longed to be a vessel through which God would “spread His Love to everyone.” I had found happiness in Him, and I wanted to “pass it on.” So, on the last night of camp, my voice would join in unison with all of my new friends and Fire starters! We sang to the top of our voices with conviction as we shouted, “Praise God!” just like the sweet voices you can hear in the Camp Mystic video.
My heart can’t help but think that they, like me, had gathered after vespers the night before the terrible flood to sing their evensong. They joined hands and hearts, perhaps praying for safety to make it home to share God’s Love with their communities. How could they have known that their opportunity to pass it on would be from a bus, moments after one of the scariest nights of their lives, singing of the most present love they had ever experienced?
Praise Jesus for these sweet girls, their protection, and for church camps everywhere that spark a flame in hearts that long to shout from the mountaintops and bus seats alike. Truly, “the Lord of Love has come to” us.
God of Love, be near those who grieve.
Connect with Bost on social media platforms by searching for “Sandra Mullins Bost.”
