"I hate this," Mr. J complained, strapping on his red facemask and reaching for the disposable gloves.
I looked to him, concerned. It is out of the ordinary for him to complain at all, at least openly. "What do you mean?" I prodded gently, not quite sure to what he was referring.
"All of this," he continued irritably. "The masks, the gloves, the distancing.... This is no way for kids to have fun at camp."
I understood. All the missionaries felt the same way, but in order to have camp this season we had to carefully follow all the state recommendations for social gatherings. I wasn't sure what to say in response to his sudden exclamation.
"Well," I began, "at least we can have some kind of camp, even if it looks a lot different from usual."
"That's true, that's true," Mr. J agreed, nodding his head. "It's just so different. I don't know how we're going to reach any of these kids at all with all these restrictions."
"If God wants us to have camp, even if we only have one or two kids come this year," I added, "then I think He will use this year amazingly. Who knows? Maybe this will be our best year yet, and it will all be worth it even if one kid gets saved."
Mr. J's eyes lit up anew. "You know, you're right. We should all be thinking that way. Even for just one kid, we're sharing the Gospel and that's what's important. Most other camps have shut down for the year, and that we can hold camp at all is almost a miracle!"
We shared a few more comments, then Mr. J left to join the serving line for lunch.
Encouragement in a Tedious Time
I've reflected back on this conversation over this past week since it occurred. In the moment, I wanted to uplift Mr. J; it hurt to see him so frustrated.
It hurt to see the other missionaries arguing or complaining over the restrictions.
It hurt to see the disunity that came from the disagreements.
The last thing that seemed needed in the moment was another negative comment. So as I am in the habit of doing, I tried to see some good in the situation. Maybe there would be a camper who would hear about Christ for the first time. Maybe he would come to know Christ as Savior. Maybe all our extra precautions would not be in vain.
It was just hopeful thinking that day, but now a week later, it is a reality.
Our campers have come. A small group, yes; only about twenty in all compared to our usual hundred or more. So far, there is no report of any new salvations. But it is obvious to us all that the children are having such a wonderful time.
Maybe God is using this time to grow us as a mission. Perhaps He is stretching us out of our "we've done it this way for seventy years" mindset and teaching us a better way.
A better way to prepare beforehand.
A better way to communicate with one another.
A better way to encourage and help one another.
A better way to challenge our thinking, an opportunity to awaken our creative sides that He has given us.
Only time will tell how effective this camp season will be. But as I observe and reflect, I see a closer relationship forming between the missionaries and the young summer staffers. I see the counselors having more genuine interactions with their camper groups because the number of children is so much smaller than usual. I see everyone concerned with the safety of others, regardless of their approach to the coronavirus issue.
I see grace.
I see love.
I see Christ.
And that's what it should be.
Don't let your facemask stop you from showing Him. We certainly won't.
_________
Written by Megan
Comments
Post a Comment