On Holy Ground

When Moses climbed the mountain to look for a lamb he lost, that is all that he expected to find.  Certainly not a burning bush.  And certainly not a booming voice telling him to remove his sandals, that he was on holy ground.

Where do you find your holy ground?  Do you have a place that is, for you, holy?  Where?  Why is it holy to you?  How often do you go there?

Camp Christian is my holy ground.  Camp Christian is my Mecca.  I take a pilgrimage there every year.  Because I find peace.  I find fulfillment.  I leave Camp every summer feeling like I have the energy to take on another year.  I find the people and the experiences and the memories which sustain me... which sustain any hope I have of ministering to others.  My cup is filled to the brim that I may begin to drink again.

 

On Holy Ground, I can paint my face for a game of capture the flag.

On Holy Ground, I dye my hair blue for losing a bet.

On Holy Ground, I conspire with lifeguards and snipe hunt with campers.

On Holy Ground, I found fraternities.

On Holy Ground, I have flour and water bottles as my weapons.

On Holy Ground, I communicate more on a night of silence than in most of the week prior.

On Holy Ground, I serenade in both public and private.

On Holy Ground, I am moved by how people share of both their talents and the most secret stories.

On Holy Ground, I become the poet.

On Holy Ground, I am the cause of both laughter and tears.

On Holy Ground, there lives God.

There are too many names to name...  I was moved by over 200 of you.
Thank you to all of you!
And most especially to you, Thank You for our dance.

All power be to the Creator, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.
Amen