UPBC

Upper Peninsula Bible Camp. Of course there are words to describe it, but for me it is always difficult to convey the depth of my feelings.

Lets start with the drive to camp. The anticipation begins the second I climb into the car in our driveway in Grand Rapids. It waxes as the mile markers disappear behind us, and hits a peak as the Mackinac Bridge slips into view while we slide up 75. The metal grating is the only way to cross - windows open, heads hanging out and hearts surging with adrenaline as the water flys by 200 feet below. The rolling beauty of the varied forests along the highways, the untamed reaches of nature's grasp. The Seney Stretch: more than 20 miles of perfectly straight and nearly perfectly level two lane highway; the crazy 180 degree turn from 28 onto 94, at the bottom of the huge hill; the violence inherent in the crossing of Slapneck Road and Slapneck Creek. The crosses Bill and I made as a memorial for Matt and Mylissa at the intersection where they died; poignant reminders.

Then, oh glory of glories, Bible Camp Drive! The glimpses of the buildings through the trees, and finally we're there.

As I step out of the car the smells overwhelm me: evergreens and cold nights, stargazing and the northern lights, good food and warm hugs. My head spins with memories: the tower, the crack of 22s, the raft, conversations on Randy's dock, fights, wrestling matches, backrubs, friendships, the wind in the pines fading to silence, ripped shorts from the rope swing platform, T-111 and Jilberts. I don't think it would be possible to overstate the depth to which camp and the relationships I formed there have influenced who I am and who I want to be. It was at camp that I first understood what God did for me. It was at camp that I came to know true intimacy, trust, service and love. I was at camp that I really began to know and love the woman who is now my wife.

It was near camp that I watched as an empty logging truck hit my friend's car at 55 mph as he and Matt and Mylissa crossed an intersection. It was with tears in my eyes and desperate prayers on my lips that I shattered his window, held him tight and told him it would be all right. It was with denial and desperate sobbing prayers that I looked at Matt and My's bodies hoping for a sign of life. It was with devastation that the truth sank in. It was with gut-wrenching pain and loss that my friends' arms surrounded me and our tears mixed in the dirt. It was with blood on my hands, face, shirt that I returned to camp.

It was through the pain, grief, hope, truth and hard work that followed that my deepest and most enduring friendships were formed. I will never forget that summer.

I love camp because God used it as a tool to shape and unite the hearts of me and my friends. Camp is where I have seen the body of Christ most fully realized.