I heard a guy say once, “Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside of a dog it’s too dark to read.” We took the youth to Spring Heights a couple of weekends ago. We left Huntington after school and work, stopped along the way for dinner and then made our way, far past the highway, to the camp. After arrival, a brief meeting with the camp director left us with the news that, due to all of recent rain storms, we would be unable to drive along the semi-graveled path to the cabin. We would have to ferry our gear by ‘youth mule’ to our sleeping quarters. We unloaded the vans and in a haphazard caravan fashion moved along the newly poured sidewalk to our home away from home. I went inside the two-sided cabin (boys/girls separated by a common sitting room), deposited my “stuff” and proceeded to take a mental role call. It didn’t take long to come up short on most of the youth. Knowing full well it would NOT work, I unholstered my cell phone to see who I could raise on the wire. Much to my surprise I had some signal and my call DID go through. The youth I dialed instinctively was my oldest son (15 yrs old). I said, trying not to sound panicked – just more mystified at the collective disappearance, “Where are you guys?” The answer came back in my ear, very calmly, “Chillin' at the Cross.”
Spring Heights is far enough away from town that light trespass or light pollution is not a problem. On a night (like this) with few stars and no moon, the meager light given off from the fixtures on the side of the dining hall fizzles in about 40 feet. The Cross is approximately 1200 feet (400 yards) from the dining hall. I know 400 yards because I paced it the next day. Not accurate enough to buy property but accurate enough to know it was W-A-Y down there. The cross is fixture at the camp. Many pictures have been taken of it and along side it. It has several times graced the cover of our retreat booklet (My youngest even keeps it as the opening picture on his cell phone.). What I’m trying to convey is that getting to the cross was not easy. It was dark, say, as dark as the inside of a dog. They most likely used the dim glow from their phones and iPods to light the way. But it was important enough to them to get there that they started out in pitch dark on a path that, even though traveled many times, had no doubt changed or lost some familiarity over the year since last trod.
We spent the retreat focusing on the 23rd Psalm. We memorized it (again) as a group and broke down each facet into deeper meaning. Their trek to the Cross makes me think of the verse, "Even though I walk through the darkest valley…"
As we walk through our darkest valleys in life, let it be so important to us to reach Christ that we are led by His light and when asked “What are you doing?” we can answer “I’m chillin' at the Cross.”
Steve Matthews
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