On a windy spring day last May, I got my axe, chainsaw, and draw knife and headed up to camp to build a fire ring and a cross. Most of the day was spend building benches and the fire ring, with help from one of our interns whose name is Dom. It was hard work, but I loved being outside swinging my axe and creating something new. One of the last things I did was to build a cross at the front of the fire ring area. I searched for the perfect sized log, cut it into the appropriate lengths and then spent the next few hours scraping the bark of the logs. While I scraped, I wondered how this cross might be an encouragement to some future camper. I hoped that I would get to see folks gathering around it on occasion as I drove by to do my other camp duties.
Finally, I finished peeling the bark, notched the wood, and put the cross together with huge steel nails. We then dug a hole, filled it with cement, and stood up the cross. The picture of the cross with the mountains in the backdrop was an awesome sight. I hoped and prayed that the Lord would use this place to minister and encourage many hearts. Yet each time I have driven by since, I have yet to see anyone there worshipping at the cross. It is often like that at camp. We do so many things behind the scenes; we rarely get to personally see the life change that is taking place at camp.
Then I got a call a few weeks ago.
My friend Matthew was driving by the cross and noticed a young Latino boy with his arms draped around it. The boy was weeping, and his counselors each had their hands on his shoulders as he cried. He cried tears of repentance and joy as the Lord healed his wounded heart. It was a beautiful seen. This young man, from inner city Denver, was here on a weekend retreat with other teens from the city. It was such a joy to hear. For not only had I longed to see the cross being used as a place of repentance and healing, but I also longed to see our camp reach out to those who could not afford to come on their own. I have prayed that Horn Creek would be a place where inner city kids could come and find Jesus. Amazingly, even in spite of us, they are beginning to come. Next summer we will have even more camps of inner city kids coming to Horn Creek.
Now, as I think back on that windy May day, I now know that the Lord had a purpose for that cross. He also had a purpose for that young man. I praise God I was allowed to be a part of it.
-Jeff
Finally, I finished peeling the bark, notched the wood, and put the cross together with huge steel nails. We then dug a hole, filled it with cement, and stood up the cross. The picture of the cross with the mountains in the backdrop was an awesome sight. I hoped and prayed that the Lord would use this place to minister and encourage many hearts. Yet each time I have driven by since, I have yet to see anyone there worshipping at the cross. It is often like that at camp. We do so many things behind the scenes; we rarely get to personally see the life change that is taking place at camp.
Then I got a call a few weeks ago.
My friend Matthew was driving by the cross and noticed a young Latino boy with his arms draped around it. The boy was weeping, and his counselors each had their hands on his shoulders as he cried. He cried tears of repentance and joy as the Lord healed his wounded heart. It was a beautiful seen. This young man, from inner city Denver, was here on a weekend retreat with other teens from the city. It was such a joy to hear. For not only had I longed to see the cross being used as a place of repentance and healing, but I also longed to see our camp reach out to those who could not afford to come on their own. I have prayed that Horn Creek would be a place where inner city kids could come and find Jesus. Amazingly, even in spite of us, they are beginning to come. Next summer we will have even more camps of inner city kids coming to Horn Creek.
Now, as I think back on that windy May day, I now know that the Lord had a purpose for that cross. He also had a purpose for that young man. I praise God I was allowed to be a part of it.
-Jeff
