The Lost Camper
When I found out that this year’s Leaders’ Camp would be held again in Caliraya, I somehow prepared myself for what I would see. It was my first time joining the camp, so before this, I had heard tons of stories from my friends who had attended it the previous year, from their buffet experiences to astounding testimonies, revelations, and breakthroughs. I’ve had my imagination rolling since then. My heart never missed a thing. It went on with me excited, ignited, and expectant.
Right at that moment, inside the bus, with all those glowing emotions, I thought I was okay. In fact, I thought I was doing great. But then there are too many things that are hidden behind the curtain.
PRELUDE
For three days and two nights, realizations came pouring all over the place from the tiniest detail down to the most general idea. Being part of the crowd, just listening as Pastor Gilbert Foliente, Pastor CJ Nunag, and Pastor Ferdie Cabiling shared their heart for the Word of God really made me feel so encouraged. For sure, the impact was the same for those five hundred leaders who sat with me.
The technical side never failed as well. I saw how everyone worked so hard for this event to be successful, and it was indeed successful. From the production design, program flow, song list, games, administrative aspects, and all, every single one of them served as a puzzle piece that completed the whole Leaders’ Camp experience. The first seemed to be doing a different task from the other, but everyone was just singing this one song in full unison, to glorify God and Him alone.
A painter would have his muse, but then no matter how beautiful she may be, he will always prefer this one perfect angle that would even more showcase the beauty that she already has, an angle that stands out among the others, an angle that would encapsulate everything in one look.
If you ask me what my Leader’s Camp highlight was, it would be a never-ending and tied-up together. But if I were a painter and I needed to paint my Leaders’ Camp 2016 experience, what happened that night would be the angle I’d choose.
WEARING MARTHA
That moment never happened in the middle or somewhere at the end; it happened at the time when I thought I was just warming up.
So I was excited, kind of giddy. I can’t remove the smile on my face, I am feeling so perfect. Overwhelmed by these superficial indications, I sat together with my friends, and we almost occupied the whole row of plastic seats prepared in front of the stage. I was laughing and chit-chatting here and there when the program for the first night finally started.
The first session was about our confidence before the Lord as sons and daughters, the reason why we claim, and the joy of having a relationship with the Father.
Father…
My mind started having a debate with its own defense mechanisms.
“Yes, this is really important, but I don’t think it’s what I need right now, still a very good topic to start with though.”
These words never arrived in my thoughts exactly as I typed them now, but my reasoning sounded pretty much like it. That time I was convinced that the session was, of course, for me (and for everyone else in the hall), but not exactly for me, if you know what I’m trying to say.
I mean, how can I forget? The concept of referring to God as a Father is not foreign to me, and it shouldn’t be. The idea was being preached on every Sunday service. It is the reason for every joyful praise. It is the resounding message of every worship song.
It was so ironic to think that at that moment, I was actually trying to absorb everything, but at the same time, resisting its relevance in my current state.
But then there’s a voice deep within me that pushes me to take off all this defensiveness. It took me a while to surrender my pride. It took me a while to accept that, truly, I am denying something about myself that I know deep in my heart I am guilty of committing.
Suddenly, all those glowing emotions I had a while ago started to pull back one by one. As Pastor Gilbert continued with the talk, I found myself checking my own heart.
I was facing the mirror, looking at myself, and I saw someone I did not think I was.
But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”
-Luke 10:41-42, ESV
For quite a long time, I assumed I was more like Mary. But I was too busy digging into the complexities of Christianity that I failed to grasp the one thing that made sense of everything.
Having the privilege to call the Creator of the universe as my Father really struck me the first time it was revealed to me. But at that moment, it struck me like a lightning bolt. It went on deeper, peeling out layers and layers of familiarity and false mentalities that I’ve been harboring for a very long time. I was too busy doing things for the King that I failed to approach His presence as a daughter.
I am the daughter of a King.
I forgot the intensity of this marvelous gift. I am guilty.
When it dawned on me, the shame that I felt was so great I wanted to melt into my seat.
I wanted to embrace every negative emotion because somehow it felt like it was the right response for committing such a foolish thing. I deserve the emotional torture.
But then, the grace of the Lord is just so sufficient that it kept on pulling me back to the surface. So, I managed to keep it together.
Still, the question kept on ringing in my head: how come I forgot? Then the thought came.
I don’t think a reminder is all I need.
Because sometimes we are content with a mere recollection, but it doesn’t really end there. Most of the time, what we need is not just a reminder, but an encounter, to really see it through and experience it to make it more real. And if necessary, experience it again, and again, and again.
WHEN THE LIGHTS WENT OFF
The session ended, but the thoughts it brought remained strong.
As the worship continued, you could hear hundreds of voices singing, filling the air inside the hall. There’s rejoicing. Some found renewed hope and grace. Spirits were lifted. Souls were refreshed.
But I need something more.
As everyone was singing the song “O Come to the Altar” by Elevation Worship, somewhere near the chorus, all the lights went off.
No colorful lights. No instruments accompany the congregation. The only sound that remained was the sound of people worshiping their God together.
Everyone was singing in the Spirit. Hands were lifted up. Everyone was fully aware of the Lord’s presence in the place. No one seemed to care about what just happened. No one stopped. Everyone was just fighting for that moment, a moment that could not easily be taken away by just a mere loss of electricity.
In a matter of seconds, the lights went back but not as grand as before. The instruments’ amplifiers, as well as the microphones, stayed mute. The worship time remained raw and authentic.
Everyone was singing their heart out. For me, it felt like the Lord was just before us. Like a shepherd looking out for his sheep. It was a glimpse of eternity for me.
That is the time when I failed to keep it together. I was crying so hard that somehow I find it a little painful. My heart is just too full of everything that the only best outlet I could think of was to really cry. I couldn’t stop. I don’t want to stop.
I want to sink in the moment; I want to get lost in it, like sinking in the deepest part of the ocean or losing your way in an immensely vast forest, but in a very, very good, beautiful way.
The presence of the Lord is something you couldn’t exactly explain. There’s joy, and hope, and freedom. You feel vulnerable and strong at the same time. All of these mixed up together like beautiful pastel colors.
What did I do to live and experience this? I asked the Lord. Standing in awe of what’s happening around me and within me.
I functioned in pride and self-sufficiency, in arrogance and self-centeredness. There’s no way I’m fit for this.
Because you are my daughter…
And I cried even harder. That moment was very intimate and personal. Yes, none of us in the hall was fit to experience such a great encounter.
None of us.
Where on earth, then, can you find such love? The one that’s too big it covers up all your stubbornness and filthy rags, the one that will never give up on you no matter what, the one who will never persecute you but will always help you fix whatever it is that you have broken. The One who is all and more.
It’s the love of the Lord, of a Savior, of a Father.
You can read it in the Scriptures and in some books. You can hear it from other people. But when it reached out to you in a very personal way, there’s no way you’ll get used to it. God has a way of making you experience His love in a thousand different ways that will make you get on your knees and sing in awe like you never did before.
THE LOST CAMPER
That night, I gazed at the Lord with a fresh spirit, full of love and grace and mercy that can conquer anything, even my own self.
He never went close to rescue me. He went closer. And with that, I found a glorious revival.
I am blessed to have both the reminder and the encounter that same night, one after another.
I think that’s what we really need every single day, to be reminded of our relationship with the Lord as sons and daughters, to see it through and choose to experience it with arms wide open, pushing aside the blocks of familiarity that spoil every special moment with the Creator of the universe.
I’d like to quote what my favorite author said,
“Faith is the art of holding on to things despite your changing moods and circumstances.”
-C.S. Lewis
The sudden loss of electricity was not an accident. I believe that without a shadow of a doubt. What blows me away even more is what happened after it. I tried to describe it here, and to be honest, this is just a page of it, an excerpt. But really, it is way, way more different if you get to witness them happening right before your eyes…
Before the camp started, I thought I was perfectly okay, until God redirected my eyes, and then I saw how miserable I was.
Yes, I wandered around, but nothing is sweeter than going back home.
My heart once again is facing heavenwards.
I am a lost camper, but the Base Master found me again, as He always did.
“For in him we live and move and have our being.” As even some of your poets have said, “For we are indeed his offspring.”
- Acts 17:28, ESV
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