The troubled camper

Keep the bit in a child's mouth allows the parent to keep control... which in turn produces great kids!

I wish I could tell you that every camper that comes to camp has come from the perfect home; with a mom and dad, a loving caring environment that has nurtured the child along physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It is easy for me to spot these families after a few encounters with parents and children. When just the opposite has happened, it isn’t quite so easy for me to pick up. Children can hide many of their hurts and scars from most of us; it is usually only in a cabin, that the child breaks down and share what is going on in their lives back home.

We had such a young man at camp this past week. He was a bigger kid than most in his cabin. He came into camp crying out for help; not with any words, only with his actions. He was unruly, undisciplined, mouthy, and with an attitude that said, “I am in charge, I call the shots, don’t push me”. For most counselors, such behavior is very tough to handle; the camper’s disruptive behavior can flavor the entire cabin. If a counselor doesn’t get outside help from other lead staff, he might end up with a disaster of a week; none of the cabin’s campers will have a great week.

As it turned out, this young man’s mom was recently put in prison; his grandparents are trying to raise him, but incapable in dealing with the boy’s anger and hurts, so consequently spend most of the time yelling and trying to correct the boy from a chair instead of correcting and disciplining the boy with a firm hand.

The boy ended up acting out his emotional pain by trying to cut himself with paper. I asked the lead staff what cutting was and why do kids do this. Their response was that young people use paper, or razor blades to inflict cuts on arm or legs and this helps them to calm down from their emotional pain by inflicting physical pain. Apparently having physical pain temporarily removes the hurts and pains of home or school.

I am lost on this one.

At the same time this past week, I saw the other side of family life. I am thinking of two families in particular whose children attended camp this week. I have known these two families for years and have seen time and time again, the parents and child together. Every time these two families come to camp, the entire family comes. Every time I meet or greet these children, they come across as confident, friendly, engaging, and polite.

As I shared in my last blog about control, both sets of parents of these great kids have not lost control of the family. There is order, respect, control, and lots of love flowing from parent to child and from child to parent. In both situations, mom is able to stay home and maintain oversight and balanced nurturing of the child. The parents are making the decisions; the child stays under the parent’s umbrella of authority.

Regardless of what background, who ones parents are, how one is raised, the child needs a week at camp. It is here that much of life’s struggles can be forgotten for 5 days. It is here that under the care of a young counselor, that each child can find a place to fit in for 5 days. We are not miracle workers: there are still many families that children have to return to on Friday and face a mom or dad or grandparent that won’t continue nurturing and guiding the child. We want to be an oasis for a week, that perhaps, can be a little balm of Gilead to a young person’s life.

I do have to tell parents out there going through a divorce and all the ugliness that brings, “Keep your wars at home and keep the camp out of your wars. And don’t engage your child in your wars while he/she is at camp!” I am tired of immature parents fighting it out and trying to drag the camp into their legal messes. Enuf said! Grow up parents!

And to you parents who are keeping the bit in your child’s mouth, and continue to control them through their teen years, “I appreciate you and pray for you to continue to have the courage to keep up your great parenting!” It is worth it; the results of your faithfulness will come back to you generation after generation. “Surely, your grandchildren and their children will rise up and call you blessed.”

July 4th- Random Thoughts

When it comes to work, most children have no idea how or what it entails. They mostly like the pay check part of work, and would rather skip the sweating part. I have been surprised of late of how teen age kids want to learn how to build or at least be apart of something bigger than they are. I have run two different crews of extra counselors the past two weeks. We have been doing different projects on the new Inn. Three boys installed a 2000 sq. ft. wood ceiling in the meeting room and afterwards I told them, “You have just done something that will last for the next 50 years. You will be able to bring your grand kids back to camp and say, ‘I did that’!” I had others sanding, putting up siding, painting, and finishing doors and trim. As I watched them work, it was easy for me to see who had initiative, who was a slacker, who worked at not working, who had an eye for detail, who grasped unseen concepts of construction. I also saw that most young people love to work with a group, but hate doing something totally by them selves. At the end of the two weeks, I felt my time with them was productive, that each person learned a new skill. I think I would enjoy doing that type of supervision for an entire summer.

Counselor Work Crew

I told the work crew counselors a story I had heard years ago from Tony Compola, about children. I told them about the difference between city kids and farm kids. Parents of city kids want children, like children, but don’t need children. They are a financial liability and end up costing the parent well over $225,000 to raise up to the age of 18. However, the farmer parent needs children. Their children are a financial asset. Each child of a farmer, will generate over $125,000 in income for the parent during his 18 years if the child is actively involved in the farming operation. I have never seen a farm kid with self esteem issues when he works along side his parent… he feels needed; however the opposite is true with city kids… they are not needed except to maybe empty the trash or perhaps mow the yard.

My thoughts about parenting: Too many parents lost control of their child when they started asking for the child’s opinion and preferences. When a child is little, and if a parent asks him, “Would you like oatmeal or fruity pebbles?” The child learns he is in control early. When we parents state, “This morning we are eating oatmeal, and it is good for you. Take it or leave it are your choices.” The child understands mom and dad are in control and will remain in control. When does a 6 year old know what is best for himself? By the time a child is 13 or 14, a parent will have a child with an attitude on their hands if they have been smothering him/her with excessive decision making; grow up mom and dad’s and take control early; it isn’t a popularity contest: it is called parenting!

In case you are wondering, I am from the old school; I am only 54, but in many ways, I think like most 70+ year olds; I find certain activities and music very offensive and improper. I still believe consumption of alcohol for a Christian is wrong; I still don’t think Christians should be dancing to secular music; I still find it offensive when I see a Christian light up a cigarette. Call me legalistic, call me old fashion, just don’t call me up and ask me to go drinking and dancing with you.

I hunt for meat!

I am a practical guy; I don’t spend money foolishly; I don’t do things that are not productive; I am not one to seek out entertainment or activity (movies, concerts, or sporting events) that doesn’t result in something: i.e. I hunt so I can get meat;I fish so I can eat fish; I till the ground so I can grow beans and corn. I don’t go to fire works, don’t piddle with video games, I don’t lay out in the sun, I don’t drive a motor cycle to somewhere I don’t need to be just for the sake of a ride, I would never shoot a paint ball gun (I eat what I shoot) and I would not own a pet. I know this last thought goes against every grain in America; we are a nation of pet lovers. It just doesn’t make any sense to me to own something that doesn’t do anything. I would have to feed him, take him outside, clean up after it’s messes, and then worry about the animal if I have to leave and go somewhere. If I want companionship, I will find a new friend (a person who can talk). If I want kissed, I will ask my wife or grandchildren. If I want messes in my yard and house, then I will adopt some more kids… but don’t ever expect me to get so attached to something that can’t talk, can’t work, and only costs me money. Enuf said!!

But I do have to tell you this 4th July weekend, I do love our country and all that it has allowed me to do and become. I do love the state of Iowa where it gets so sultry and hot for a few months and so cold and blustery for a few months that it can drive you inside for weeks on end, but I love the drastic seasons and the variety of natural forces. I love the fertile soil that can grow crops and weeds and wildflowers side by side. I love our rivers and the timbered valleys that pour excess water into the river basins. I love being an American and pray that the Spirit of God would sweep this great nation and bring it to it knees.

earldtaylor@yahoo.com

Fishers of Men

Fishing Boys with prize- an 11 pound Catfish

I watched the little ones arrive at camp yesterday; what joy in their little faces. I love it when kids come to camp with such excitement, such anticipation. Once again we were overwhelmed with the sheer number of campers and parents as they arrived for a picture-perfect day; no rain, mild temperatures and just a little mud.

Three different speakers speaking to three different audiences, with plenty of fun mixed in the middle should make this week memorable. I love this age group of kids; they ask great questions; they look at their counselor as one who has all answers; and they try their best to stay up later than they should. Opening evening around the hot dog roast was best described as a zoo, as the little ones were climbing all over their counselor. I only watched and smiled thinking, “There is no way in the world I could be a counselor at my age; they would wear me out in a minute!”

Tradition has it that the fishing boys come to my house and fish from my pond one of the evenings. DeDe and I cook the boys a BBQ with some wild meat; last night was no exception with plenty of deer steaks and even fresh frog legs from the afternoon of pond plunking. The first two hours of fishing was more chasing tad poles and trying to catch a huge bull frog; there was little real fishing done except by a couple boys who were fishermen before they arrived at camp.

It is easy for me to spot the boys whose dads have fished with them and have trained them how to handle a rod and reel. They have skill and they also have the tools of a very full tackle box. Other boys come to camp with a rod and real, and a few hooks and bobbers, but little skill and for some only a mild interest in fishing. They liked the idea of fishing, but also like just mudding and dinking in the water.

I looked at this scenario and realized it is similar with people and their faith; many are committed, trained, disciplined, believers who are serious about their Walk with Christ; others are like the boys who will plink their week away; they talk fishing, they have a pole, but they never really get any fish caught. Some Christians love the idea of being a Christian, but never develop past their salvation experience; they stay along the shore chasing life without ever growing or going deeper in their walk.

And it brings great joy to my heart when I hear of someone who all of sudden takes off in their walk with Christ. I know, I diddled around shore for my first 20 years of my Christian life. I knew the language, developed a Christian pedigree, but I never caught any fish; I piddled 20 years away.

Occasionally, even in fishing you get surprised. Last night was no exception. I had left the boys at their campsite and walked the 100 yards back to my house to shower and get ready for bed when the doorbell rang. “We just caught the hugest catfish!,” they clamored. I grabbed my camera and headed across the bean field with them in the dark. Sure enough, they had. This little guy who had not caught anything all day long had stuck a dead blue gill on his hook and ended up landing a 11 pound catfish; which became the largest fish ever caught by a fishing camper in 20 years. The campsite was a buzzing with excitement, as everyone got interested in getting their pole in the water looking for another record size catfish.

My prayer for this week for these 11 young men and for the rest of the 400+ campers at Hidden Acres is that each of them will see the excitement and passion of their counselor’s lives and they too will get excited about their faith. Over and over I hear from parents of their child returning home from camp renewed and excited about Bible reading, sharing their faith, and praying. I want each camper to become real fishers of men.

When Old Staff Return Home to Camp

Shawn and Connie and children

There has probably been at least 2000 kids who have worked at Hidden Acres over my past 25 years of being apart of the ministry; there is a long list of kids whom I have grown to love like sons and daughters; I smile often as I think about their time spent at camp with us.

Yesterday a couple of my favorites stopped in on their way back to Montana: Connie and Shawn McAlpine who both worked for us back in the late 80”s; Shawn is the pastor of an Christian Missionary Alliance church in Colstrip, Montana; they had returned to Iowa for a parents 50th wedding anniversary, and wanted their two children to see the camp and to check out what was new at camp; they had not been back for at least 10 years. It was great fun for me to give them the nickel tour and to show them the family life center, chapel, pastor’s cabin, and all the new program areas.

I considered both Connie and Shawn to be top notched staff; they were great kids while working together (before they were married); Shawn was our program director in the 80’s and went on to work at a camp full time in Minnesota after college. I remember them both as faithful, diligent, and with a passion for ministering to campers. In the 80’s, a staff of 12 to 16 seemed huge and almost unmanageable. I was much younger and much less trained, so that was all I could oversee. Today, we have 140 young people on staff and I don’t blink an eye at the size of the staff.

….And the week before, Ryan Peterson and his wife and new baby stopped in for a couple day visit prior to attending a wedding nearby. Ryan was a counselor and the camp pastor in the 90’s who now is senior pastor in Minnesota. He too shared about receiving his calling into ministry while working the many summers at camp.

Ryan and his family

Part of my early morning devotions time, I look over the list of current staff members and pray over them and ponder what will they become and how will they serve in the future at camp and back in the local church. From reading their bio-sketches, many of the young men have a desire to become youth pastors. I am surprised about the lack of kids who don’t see mission work in their future.

As I told the parents of the summer staff last week during our commissioning service, we will be a grinding wheel on your child’s life this summer. We will push them beyond what they ever thought they could accomplish. We will train and encourage. We will scold and admonish when necessary. We will force them to make good decisions and to be diligent and responsive. We will insist they take responsibility for mistakes and we will reward them for outstanding service. We want each young person to have a true servant's heart and to put the needs of campers above their own personal desires.

From the 140+ staff, I pray that we do send out future pastors to places like Colstrip, Montana and Minnesota, I pray we send out missionaries to places like Congo, Malaysia, and to inner city work. My prayer for this year's summer staff is that the Lord would touch their palate with the taste of active ministry that would transform them into young men and women who will not be content to sit along the sidelines of the church as pew warmers, but will be actively engaged in soul winning and kingdom work.

Pray with me that from this group, in 20 years when they come back for their tour of camp, (as they push me around in my wheel chair), that they too can report in and say, “It was here at camp that the Hand of the Lord touched me and I knew I was going to be in the ministry some day!”

First Week of Camp

Fishing camp-- biggest catch of the week

Camp is off and running: 350 campers arrived Sunday afternoon; the rain held off until after the hot dog picnic and every mom and dad were gone. But true to form, we had a good shower that muddied up the roads and trails; for the kids, it created another adventure; to the housekeepers… it created opportunities!

There were so many new families bringing their first time campers to camp. We had underestimated the number of cars that would be arriving in a 2 hour period. Our new registration area in the Family Life Center worked well, but after the first week, we know we need to make some logistical changes for the upcoming weeks. For future Sundays parents should see even a smoother system in place to get their campers registered.

Our speakers this week are Damian Peasley from the Madrid Free Church and Tyler Parsons from the Sioux Center Free Church. Both are youth pastors and both have spoken at camp before. Our prayer is that each speaker will reach the heart of every boy and girl and that the Spirit of God would do a mighty work.

I have to tell you a story from Sunday. A mother approached me and introduced herself and went on to explain that the camp had given her daughter a full scholarship to come to camp last summer. The little girl had such a wonderful experience last year she had to come back for another dose of summer camp. The mother handed me an envelope with a lovely note stating how thankful she was for the experience her daughter had enjoyed last year, and included a check for $300 with a note stating they wanted to “pay forward so that another child could get the opportunity to come to camp on a scholarship”. Wow! Did that ever bless my heart! Thank you dear parents who understand how valuable one week can be in the life of a child.

Two different camps going on at the same time: Jr. High age campers and 4-6th grade campers; one group who acts a little squirrelly at times, but tries to mask it with a sense of coolness and lack of interest, and the other group who are still intrigued with life and are full of questions and energy. We love them both and know that no matter where they are, God has a wonderful plan for their lives and our prayer is that each child will return home renewed in their Spirit and with a clean heart to serve and to grow.

…. And just a reminder to parents…. Don’t forget to pick them up on Friday!!! We love them… but they will be plenty dirty, plenty tired, and will be ready for Moms and Dads to take them home and indulge them with regular showers and daily changes of all clothing! Sorry Mom, if you find your son’s suitcase unpacked from Sunday… we really do try to make him shower!

2nd Generation

I knew it would happen eventually; if I stayed around long enough, a second generation of workers will work for me; today it has happened.

Kendall Johnson from the Oakdale Free Church worked for us in 1986 as a counselor and doing maintenance. The camp was very small with only 10 paid summer staff workers. My memory of Kendall: while a counselor, I would see Kendall on the John Deere tractor doing something, moving something, but not with his kids. Kendall was from the farm, and needed a little tractor time each week just to keep him sane. He tore into fixing the tractor and left it in a pile of bolts and metal.

Today his son Josiah Johnson starts working for us. Josiah has attended camp all these years, and has finally come of age. We are bigger now with over 120 summer staff, so Josiah will be one of many and much harder for me to keep track of.

I actually like the idea of seeing a second generation come through Hidden Acres work force. Though we were tough and demanding on the first generation, these parents understand the process of growing up and allowing their children to spread their wings and to begin establishing their own pedigree. For many, this is there first real job.

Just so you know Josiah, I will be as tough on you as I was your dad; the only difference is that I am much older and slower and I don't hear much... good luck and I pray you grow in real knowledge and that you will develop new skills that will last a life time.

In Name Only

I did something last week that I had only done one other time in my lifetime; attended a Saturday night mass at a Catholic church in Northeast Iowa. I was on my yearly pilgrimage to the God’s country: turkey hunting, trout fishing, Mississippi River fishing, and mushroom hunting; it is a tradition that my family and I have enjoyed for over 20+ years. It is a trip that I can’t and won’t miss each spring.

This is a different year however; the first year that my dad won’t be making the trip to the cabin with us; he passed away last summer: we buried Dad just over the hill from the cabin in the Catholic cemetery at Wexford; one of the oldest Catholic churches in Iowa. The cemetery has grave stones that date back to the late 1800’s; with family names that I recognize from the community. I visited Dad’s grave for the first time on Saturday night; afterwards I walked to the beautiful old Catholic church and attended their 8 p.m. Saturday night service.

Many of the people who arrived a few minutes before 8 p.m. are my friends; I hunt on their land, and over the years we have grown to love them. I sat and cried as I listened to the “Hail Mary, full of Grace… “ repetition of the congregation. The people were very reverent as they entered the building, crossed themselves, dipped their fingers into Holy Water, then bowed before they sat down in the very uncomfortable pews; the kneeling bench was lowered and they bowed before the shrine of statues and prayed through their beads.

I had no idea what was going on throughout the service; the acoustics were poor, the Father was un-miked, and there was many rituals performed that I had no idea what or why of their actions. Good farm folk were very comfortable with the routine; I felt like a complete stranger who didn’t understand English. I felt very uneasy; but I stood when others stood, sat when they sat; most of the time I turned off my hearing aids, and bowed and prayed silently. But my heart ached as I prayed.

For over 150 years, this little stone church has been the meeting spot for countless families; it was where they were married, their children were baptized, where they participated in the sacraments, and where they were buried. For 150 years, people have attended a church and never understood the good news of salvation through faith alone. “For by grace are you saved, not of works, lest any man should boast.”

I spoke with one of the bachelor farmers on Monday and told him I enjoyed being in church with him on Saturday night. Johnny commented, “I can’t understand that priest. Couldn’t hear or understand a word.” I said, “Me too.” Nearly 80 years old, and not understand a word from the priest.

I attended New Albin Free Church on Sunday morning. There was no grand building to enter; because it was a temporary church, there was no sign out that indicated this was a church; the church was a bank meeting room; a lovely room with limestone walls, no ornaments on the walls, but only a piano, a portable lectern and a stack of hymnals. Coffee was on, cookies were out, and fellowship of believers was taking place. Prior to the service starting, family and friends milled about and visited with each other. There was life in the building.



4 hymns were sung: I knew everyone by heart; I didn’t need to open the hymnal. For the first time in months, I sang. “Tell me the old, old story; His Name is Wonderful, Grace greater that Our Sins, and Jesus, Name above all names” My heart was stirred from the words. The sermon was from the 1st three verses in Hebrews, of the 7 attributes of Jesus…. The one who provided purification from Sin. I understood this message. I understood each aspect of the service; I felt the Spirit of God working among His people as I sat in this room next to the bank on main street of New Albin.

What a difference: a beautiful church surrounded by a beautiful, old cemetery surrounded by beautiful timber and a nearby trout stream, and a main street bank building converted into a church for a short period. The 150+ year old Catholic church had no message, no spirit, no hand of the Lord. The bank building was blessed and anointed with proclaiming the Good News of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. One was a church in name only, the other, the Church that God intended.