To all my fellow work crew, summer staff & Young Life camp interns:
When filling out my work crew application, I remember answering lots of questions. “Can you lift 50 pounds?” “Do you work well with others?” “What are your strengths and weaknesses?” But there’s one essential question that was missing from the form. The question goes a little like this: “Are you mentally prepared to leave the most beautiful place in the world after falling in love with it for an entire month, and the best friendships you’ve ever had?” Obviously my answer would’ve been no, but I wouldn’t trade my camp experience for anything.
I hopped off the plane from ATX with a dream and my sticker-covered Nalgene (a telltale sign of a Chripster, camper, Young Lifer). That was when I saw my people — North Face backpack, Chacos and all. While waiting for the bus to our camp, Trail West, there was nothing but immediate (and little did we know, lifelong) friendships being formed. There were no cliques, no gossip — just people lovin’ people like Jesus does. There was never any awkward small talk or a lack of conversation topics. Being from all over the country, we got to share our experiences about the different camps we’ve been to and talk about Jesus like it was nobody’s business.
The month went by much too fast for my liking. There were nights we stayed up way too late sharing testimonies and laughing and crying with each other. Something I love about Young Life people is their intentionality. Someone would share their story, we would cry, and several people would pray for that person out loud. We felt the pain of our brothers and sisters and hurt with them. People like that don’t come into your life every day, so when they do you cling to them. Tight.
The day came for us to leave. I don’t think it fully hit me until right before some of my favorite people were about to get on their plane to go home — back to the Carolinas, Tennessee, Florida. My heart physically hurt, something I hadn’t ever felt before. Realizing that it would be a long time before we would all be in the same place again. Realizing that we couldn’t just come to someone’s bunk and cry and laugh with them and get a hug whenever we needed it. Realizing that there would be no more early mornings in the dining hall. Realizing the people that loved you well relentlessly for four weeks are about to leave your side for who knows how long. I don’t think I’ve ever cried so much and we all lost a lot of saline (and for us girls, mascara: for the boys, dignity). But it was genuine. The tears were real. These people knew my heart and got to know me better in four weeks than my friends from back home did in ten years.
Of course I still keep in touch with my people, we talk every day. Our group message is still kickin’, we Oovoo (God bless it), we FaceTime, and we plan cross-country trips to see each other. Despite all of these things, being away from people who know you and love you is the hardest thing. It’s like the sensation of losing a limb — sometimes you still feel like it’s there. Sometimes I wake up expecting to be at camp with my best friends. So, moral of the story like I said is cling to your people. Hard. And don’t ever let them go. Miss camp, miss your people, but never stop loving and pursuing them.
