This One Time at Church Camp
When I was a little girl church camp meant you loaded a bus, trekked about an hour away and stayed in old wooden cabins about the size of a small kitchen with six or seven of your closest church friends. Not anymore.
My teens have gone to church camp for the last three years. Every year they go somewhere different. The first year the younger one went to Colorado while the older went to New Jersey. Last year it was Tennessee. And this year they went to Texas. On their trips they have either stayed in college dorms or hotel rooms. In New Jersey they stayed in a hotel right on the boardwalk. There’s no roughin’ it for these kids.
But longer trips, farther away means more worrying. On my part at least. If they are staying on a campground an hour away I can easily get to them if there is a problem. If they get hurt I can be at the hospital before they get rolled in to surgery. And I think we all know I’m a big worry-wart.
The first year, when my son was on his way to Colorado, there was a big news story about a teen falling out of a raft while white water rafting on a trip with some friends. I watched, felt bad and moved on with my life. Oh, who are we kidding. I freaked out. My kid was on his way to Colorado and was going to go white water rafting. I immediately had visions of him falling from the raft, hitting his head on rocks, never to be seen again. I was a wreck.
But the teen made it all the way to Colorado, had a great time white water rafting and made it all the way home perfectly safe. I was just over-reacting. (I know. Me, over-react? Go figure.)
Last year I heard a story about a church group getting in to an accident while driving down the interstate in their van. My kid was on the way to Tennessee. On a church trip. In a van. I think you know where this is going. Commence freak out.
However, he also survived his trip to Tennessee with nothing more than a sunburn. (And he even went white water rafting in Tennessee too.)
Fast forward to this year. This year the teens went to Texas; South Padre Island, Texas to be exact. They just got home on Saturday afternoon. They had a fantastic time. If it was up to them they would live in South Padre Island full-time. They met a lot of new kids they immediately added to their Facebook friends. They had tons of fun hanging out on the beach, going to the waterpark, exploring town, oh, and a little bit of worship. And this year I didn’t see a single story that made me cringe about letting them escape my grasp.
Until today.
Today Hurricane Dolly smacked right in to South Padre Island, Texas. My teens missed a hurricane by just four days. That’s a little too close for my comfort.
I might have to rethink these church trips. They are just way too stressful. On me.
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POSTED IN: Weary Parent
1 opinion for This One Time at Church Camp
Cande Mitchell
Jul 24, 2008 at 12:45 pm
WOW, my 14 year old daughter is at church camp this week and it’s the old fashion kind of camp. When I took her on Sunday it was great to find the camp in the middle of no where, block dorms and outside church. She has been to others alot more fancy, but this is what camp should be about.
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