Christian Camp

Excelling in sports is a prerequisite for inclusion.

I went to basketball camp my freshman year in high school with a group of girls from the varsity team. I went because I wanted to play ball like them. They were good — really good. They were noted, held in high regard by coaches and teachers, and envied by their peers.

I filled out my inexperience, paid the fees, packed my frailties and was off for a new life. Once there — the varsity team would take me under their wing. The captains would be responsible for making me a great ball handler. I would come home a shooter — maybe even a guard — in time.

Once in the assembly we separate according to class. I sweat over instructions and preparations for the coming exercises. Will I know my position? How much better will my teammates be? Who will I eat with? What happens if I fail? And, how did I get here?

The Camp moves really fast. They expect me to know what I’m doing. They holler out unfamiliar terminology confusing me more. I return to my dorm room where my roommate doesn’t seem interested in me. I lay in my bunk inadequate — beaten by who I thought I was becoming. This is not at all how camp was supposed to be.

This is not at all what becoming a Christian is supposed to feel like. But sometimes it is.

Drop that ball and pick this one up…

I’m sorry. You were supposed to be held by reachable hands. You should have been enlivened to unwrap your insecurities and ideas. I wish you could have felt safe and excited to grow into who you are.

The discovery of every truth reveals each ones need for help.

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