From the Summer 2004 Camp Brochure

"With a fourteen-year-old, and an eleven-year-old going on sixteen, I spend a lot of time worrying about how to parent. I was confident when they were babies, toddlers, preschoolers, and elementary-aged kids. But now, I am way out of my comfort zone!

I've always believed that the best thing parents can do for kids is help give them a personal faith. We started early, and it seemed easy then. For years, my kids would happily toddle off to Sunday school, appropriately attired in clothes of my choosing. I have delightful memories of the funny ways they would mishear the words to hymns and sing them back, and of the hilarious prayers they'd willingly offer at mealtime. But now, even though they're good kids, I have to plead and cajole to get them to offer an occasional grace. On Sunday mornings, I almost have to blast them out of bed with dynamite, and then we must hold an intense summit to negotiate the terms of dress. And it's definitely not cool to seem too eager to go to Sunday school. Some Sundays I have to push them out of the pew.

So you can imagine their initial reactions when I informed them that they were going to church camp. A whole week of church? They couldn't believe they had such a mean mom. But Camp Lackawanna proved to be the summer's crowning jewel, accomplishing in just one week everything I try to do for my children over the course of a year. Matt and Ali both came home paraphrasing Scripture, and full of song.

"You don't have to always be serious when you worship God," Ali admonishes me. "He has a sense of humor, you know." And then she leads us into an interesting theological discussion with, "And He might even be a 'she.' Did you ever think about that?"

Matt rediscovered the joy of music. At his camp's closing service, he was clapping his hands, swaying, audibly singing the words to some pretty touchy-feely songs -- with no self-consciousness.

For Matt, living in close quarters with all different kinds of boys (none of whom showered regularly!) was a good reminder not to judge others by appearances. The cabin-mate with the six-inch purple mohawk turned out to be a great kid who really loved God. And Matt was relieved not to be judged either. He felt loved and accepted, and was thrilled when he was given an affectionate nickname by his new friends. At Highlights, where I work, we often talk about a story's "moral residue" -- what is left with the reader after the details of the story are forgotten. As summer winds down and school looms large, I find myself thinking about Camp Lackawanna's moral residue. When the names of bunk-mates and the words to the camp songs are a blurry memory, what will remain with my kids?

They wouldn't articulate it this way, of course, but I think they'll always remember the sense of true belonging to a community of believers. They'll remember how the shared experiences of prayer and worship and Bible study make for fellowship of the highest order. They'll remember that some of the people they have most admired and enjoyed are people who unabashedly live what they believe. And I hope they'll try to emulate them.

Again, most of the time I feel I am parenting my tween and teen in the dark. But I'm convinced that sending them to Camp Lackawanna is one thing I've done right. Hands down, it's the best money I've ever spent on my kids. Matt and Ali are already eagerly anticipating next year's camp, and I'll be eager to send them, because it's clear that Camp Lackawanna is one place where kids this age are sure to encounter God in a truly meaningful way and, in the process, discover their best selves. And, really, that's all I want for my kids." -Chris