Growing up in the Bible Belt, church camp was a staple. There was not one summer between the ages of 11 and 17 that I missed this week of fun. Every summer, you packed your one duffle bag, gave up your cell phone and/or iPod for the week, kissed your parents goodbye and headed to the holy land. And by holy land, I mean church camp.

Each camp has its special something to offer, its own little twist of fun. However, generally speaking, we probably all had similar experiences at these weeklong spend-overs.

• For many of us, church camp was the first of many experiences of sharing a very small space with entirely too many people. Who cares if your hotel or cabin sleeps six? We can fit eight comfortably with our air mattresses and maybe 10 if we try hard enough.

• You must say Grace before every meal. And when they say every meal, they mean more like anything you consume that day. You’re going to eat a pack of Chex-mix? You better thank the Lord for its minuscule nutritional value or you will probably feel extreme guilt and the eyes of your chaperone that come along with it.

• You had a colored wristband. This was your lifeline to get into worship every morning and every evening. Somehow, they were impossible to get off. Except that one kid who could always get his off. We all had that one kid in our youth group, the one your youth pastor told time and time again not to lose it, but always somehow lost it. Meanwhile, yours was practically sewed onto your wrist.

• Recreation time was serious. Serious is probably an understatement. It was brutal. Everyone brought his or her A-game. Some churches even made T-shirts to wear in the basketball tournament simply to show how ready they were to ball out. There was always that one church that stacked its team and made it to the championship just to take the trophy for the fifth year in a row.

• There was always a counselor to have a crush on. Not only were they easy on the eyes, but they were also followers of Christ and those two things together made for basically the best weeklong crush you’ve ever had and have never gotten over.

• All of the girls having to wear one-piece swimsuits and maybe even a T-shirt over it depending on the day. Absolutely everything was left to the imagination.

• Being on the most miraculous Jesus high of your life and never wanting to come down.

Church camp was the best. The food was great, the people were great and you always left closer to the Lord than you came. That Jesus high kept you returning year after year and now, looking back, there is not one second of regret. Nothing can come close to the memories that were made in those weeks spent away - only of course the nap in your own bed that happened right after getting home. We never came back the same kids who left the week before and for that, we are eternally grateful.