OYM Day 3: Did Any Of You Guys Go To Church Camp?

This is not a post where I dig into religion and what it means to me or what it shouldn’t mean to you, so don’t worry. It more or less has to do with one specific incident that has essentially haunted me whenever I ask myself if I’m a good enough person to deserve happiness.

I believe I had just finished up my 6th or 7th grade school year and was told by my neighborhood best friend about a horse camp she was going to for the summer. Being that school had been let out for a week already, I’m sure I just looked at her, bewildered, with a Kool-aid mustache, itching at the strap of my bathing suit that I would leave on for days at a time (you never know when you’ll make friends with a kid with a pool…be ready). Horse camp? What sort of magical place is this?! I don’t think I knew the word equestrian yet, which tells you I was not one, and to me…summer camps were what rich kids did or fantasies from shows on television like Salute Your Shorts. But here I was, talking to my best friend that was going to a summer camp. HORSE CAMP at that. I didn’t have an affinity for horses or anything. I was realistic and aimed for more attainable things, like a new bike one day.

Fast forward 5 or so weeks of fundraising and there I was, packing my duffle bag for horse camp. Fundraising in my day did not include selling gift-wrap or chocolate bars. In fact, I barely remember what I did to save up the $400. I’m pretty sure I went door-to-door asking my neighbors for money to attend a horse school and I would ride my horse (my horse?!) a mile for every dollar I raised. I certainly did not ride a horse for 400 miles, though…so who knows what web I was spinning to old Mrs. Farrel up the street. But I had done it. I raised the money and my ass was going to horse camp!

I had zero idea that horse camp was also a church camp. I fell for that trap, hook, line, and sinker. If I wanted to ride a majestic steed everyday, I also had to learn about begging for forgiveness and the ultimate sacrifice. But it’s summer!

I bunked with a handful of girls from small towns pock-marked up and down Illinois and Indiana. We had 2 camp counselors in our cabin and they would lead us through our daily activities, which included much less horse care and horse riding than anticipated. On this particular day, our cabin of impressionable girls sat down in the grass just outside the cafeteria for one last exercise before dinner. I was always hungry as a kid so I’m sure my mind was on taco salad, sloppy joes, or frozen pizza… and I probably didn’t give much thought to the question my counselor asked, which tells me my answer was fairly pure.

“I want you to close your eyes and hold up one hand. Using your fingers, I want to know how certain you feel that you’re going to heaven, on a scale of 1–5. 1 means you don’t think you’re getting in and 5 means you’re for sure going.”

Horse camp! Am I right?! Sure, I hesitated. I threw up a solid 4 immediately, but shaky on the thumb, meaning depending on the day, I was probably a full on 5! At this age, I was just waiting for someone to discover me. I could do so many things on a mediocre level… I could run an 8-minute mile! I could sing OK! I cleaned my room! I could memorize a dance pretty fast! From a very young age I just knew I was destined for greatness, and that meant a first class ticket to heaven, too.

Me, on the left. Destined for greatness, clearly.

“Open your eyes”.

I looked around at the 6 other girls in my cabin. No one had more than 2 fingers up (besides me). One girl was in tears. Horse camp! (Okay, I’m done).

My 15 minutes are nearly up, but I wanted to write about this experience, because people often tell me that I’m too hard on myself. Am I, though? I clearly think I’m good enough to get into heaven without a second thought. My bunk-mates on the other hand… they weren’t so sure. To this day, I still feel very much like “summer-camp me”. I love my inner child and she is a huge presence in my daily life. What’s not to love about a pre-pubescent kid with their whole summer ahead of them? I’m pretty sure God would agree.

I do think all of my cabin-mates are going to heaven or whatever that means to them. And I do think they should be more honest about horse camp. But more than that, I have to know…. how many fingers would you hold up? If it’s at least a solid 4, we should go grab some nachos or something.