Having faith like a Child! First timers at camp

Tonight, 250+ little campers arrived at camp; for many, this will be their first camping experience; for many it will be their first time away from home for 3 nights with strangers; for many, it will be their first 3 day sleep over in a fun cabin with 7 or 8 other campers. All in all, it is a great 3 days at camp.

For me, it was even more enjoyable to see 5 former counselors bring their little ones to camp! Wow! Mom and Dad wanted to give their child a similar experience that they experience as counselors back in the early 1990's. This is by far my favorite week; the kids want to be loved by their counselor; they want lots of action and fun, and they need extra sleep. The counselor loves this week also; for the counselor, they are ready to be smothered and wallered by their camper, and the 7 year old boys climb over their counselor as if he were a tree.

This is my prayer; many of these children have attended Awana's and have made some commitments to Christ; for others, this could be their first time in a Christian environment that will introduce them to the gospel. It is our prayer that each camper has their encounter with the Almighty... that these three days will be etched in their memory and heart as an encounter with the Savior.

I looked around tonight during the hot dog roast at these rosy cheeked children, full of innocence and promise; as I strolled amongst the tables I rubbed a few heads and patted a few shoulders, but I was really praying for these children. Praying that their days and years ahead might be full of positive Christian influences like they will experience this week. Praying that they would maintain purity in their hearts; praying that they would become strong Christian leaders with vibrant testimonies.
As a news junkie, I watch too much Fox news. I hear and see reports around the world and I can begin to fret and stew and worry and wonder. I wonder what my grand kids are going to have to endure; I wonder what these 250 campers will have to face in the days ahead. What can we do today to build up these young people with hearts and minds to discern what is good from evil, to discern what is best for them in the future? I know of nothing better than God's Word engrafted into their minds through memorizing... "Thy Word have I hid in my heart that I might not sin against thee."

In 10 short years, many of these first time campers will be of age to work at the camp; I am praying that the Lord will begin a good work in them that will be built upon at home and at church and in the future years at camp. We want these youngsters to develop into real soldiers of the cross.

Pray with me this week!!

earldtaylor@yahoo.com

Bone-head award

Our Poster Child: Joel Saleh

To the ultra sensitive, the Bone Head award sound a little harsh and judgemental; to the uncamped person, you might not understand the rational; to the camp staff, everyone knows and appreciates the bone head award; it is to be received as a badge of honor; as the camp director it is seen as a young person checking his or her common sense out at the door.

For over 20 years we have been announcing a bone head award at the end of each week; 20 years ago, I passed out chicken bone on a rope for the staff person to wear as a necklace. We don't serve chicken on Friday nights anymore, so there are few bones around for the necklace.

Let me share a few episodes I have witnessed:

1. Randy Baber taking my favorite 1983, red Suburban and wrapping it around a tree near the boys cabin. He said, "The road was too slick from all the rain we had." Randy lives in Des Moines after graduating from Emmaus Bible College.

2. P.J. Holmertz and other staff took 5 horses to the river in 1993 on a weekend horse ride... without permission. While at the river, the horses ate grass along the river bank that had been flooded during the 1993 floods. They returned to camp with the horses. On Monday, the first horse dropped over dead with botulism poison from the grass... by the end of the week, 5 horses were dead. P.J. is now the counselling pastor at Valley EFC.

3. Brent Bartels picks up one of the dead horses on Wednesday, and drives through the middle of camp with the horse hanging from the front end of the tractor loader.... right by the little kids standing by the flag pole.... children were crying over the dead horse!! Brent and his family lives in South Dakota.

4. In the 80's we didn't have a full time summer camp nurse; we also had very little medication to dispense. We had a small room where the medications were kept, and it was the responsibility of the counselor to dispense any pills that campers needed to take before a meal. Chris McGovern, ask his boys, "Who takes medications?" Caleb Merriman said he did... and so Chris gave Caleb the only medication from his zip lock bag to Caleb... Redlin... and Caleb didn't take Redlin... needless to say... Caleb was a little subdued for the afternoon... I called his mother Marty.... "Oh no problem..." she said, "He will be fine." And he was... Caleb ended up being a counselor at camp when he was out of high school. (Note: We now have RN's dispensing meds!!) Chris is now an banker.

5. Joel Saleh... do I need to say more? Joel received more bone head awards than any other staff: truck or tractor accidents, spilled paint, you name it... he attracted mishaps or accidents.... he is now a railroad engineer....

6. Ryan Sheldon from Oregon, had never driven a truck with a stick shift, or a tractor, but was put on the maintenance crew. His first day, he drove a truck through the large overhead door at the shop. Greg Johnson was the maintenance director in 2003. Greg stormed into my office..."I can't take them boys anymore!", he snorted... Greg moved to Wichita a few days later. Ryan is now a school teacher in Japan.

7. Jonathan Stamberg was on staff in the early 90's. A great kid, but absent minded. He was buzzing around in my personal truck, a Ford Ranger pickup, when he lost track of the road in the girl's cabin area and found a 8 inch hickory tree. The ranger had a nice creased look after that. Jonathan is a worship pastor in Atlanta Georgia.

The best thing about this is that we laugh about it heartily now! Though they destroyed property or possessions, these young people learned from their mistakes and misdeeds. Usually we were able to display large amounts of grace; none of these kids were ever fired from camp; they were reprimanded is some way, and life went on.

As adults, we all should be given a bone head award at least monthly; we all have fallen short of the mark; we all have goofed either at home or at work; a chicken bone around the neck might help us to remember longer and act slower.

Note: The list above is not exhaustive; these are only a few that come to mind this morning... more will be added as my memory kicks in.

earldtaylor@yahoo.com

My Dad: 80 wonderful years. Thank you Dad!

We buried my Dad today in Wexford cemetery south of Lansing, Iowa; a place that Dad loved; a trout stream nearby and a turkey hunting woods behind his grave. From the hill looking over the valley below, the sight was breath taking. My family has fished and hunted and vacationed in the hills south of Lansing for 44 years and Dad wanted that to be his final resting place. The entire two days of a funeral in Boone on Tuesday and the grave side service near Wexford, were wonderful; sad... but wonderful that my Dad's strong testimony and influence in people's lives were validated over these two days. We connected with family friends of over 50 years; so many spoke so kindly of Dad and what he meant to them.

I will share with you the eulogy I wrote and spoke at the funeral service on Tuesday.

For 80 years, Dad carried on life here on earth… born in a log cabin in Missouri, his early life was filled with wonderful memories of his Dad and especially his mother… life on Locust and Paw Paw creeks was extremely bare and poor, but filled with wonderful events and 7 brothers and sisters that shaped dad into who he was to become as a man… it was his mother's love and care that Dad spoke of so much as he grew older… her canning nearly a 1000 quarts of greens, and fruit, and vegetables… or his Dad’s rants and raves or hunts… or his tom boy sisters…. Or his big brother Everett who stuck up for him, and was his protector… and of course his colorful brother Earl… all were instrumental in creating the Waylon we knew… when he spoke of his dear sisters, he spoke as if they were Saints…except Peg…. When he spoke of Peg… he spoke with love and affection…and only said she was one of a kind….

Can I share of few word pictures of what mattered to dad?

Some of Dad’s favorites:
Loved the cabin…Loved to fish for trout..for 43 years… dad’s favorite place to vacation was in NE Iowa…
Loved to turkey hunt. He loved his hunting shack that Jane gave him..
Dad loved to garden… you could often find him hoeing early in the morning with just his shorts on. We all remember going to the garden with a knife and eating kohlrabies, or tomatoes… dad loved fresh tomatoes…corn, asparagus…
Loved to cook: favorite meals we always enjoyed with dad… chicken BBQ, fish, Indian fry bread, tacos… with the home made shells, wild turkey soup, wilted lettuce. And anything that gravy could be made from…

Later in life, he enjoyed going to Des Moines to the Sr. Golf tournament…. Vivian was dad’s autograph getter… Arnold Palmer and others.

Dad loved to go to Missouri… fish at Uncle Everett’s ponds, Memorial Day weekend… he would usereal lard to fry fish.

In the late winter you would find dad at Veterans Auditorium at the high school wrestling tournament, and in March, he would travel up to 500 mile to go to the national wrestling tournament… state tournaments for basketball, baseball…But in the summer… it was the St. Louis Cardinals… he loved to watch the Cardinals.

Dad loved any excuse to get together with his family; if you invited dad to a celebration, wedding, graduation, etc, he would be there… extended family knows what I am talking about… it was as if he could smell the cake. And once there, he became the life of the party. We are convinced that his 80th birthday party was what kept dad alive last winter.

Dad loved taking countless pictures of insignificant things… in multiple… of buildings, bridges, trees, flowers, or a deer or turkey at 700 yards. He bought his first reel to reel tape recorder in 1961… we still talk about our tape of eating supper with Grandma Ola Taylor… dad’s mom…. with grandma saying, “Look at the boy eat that sour kraut… "

Dad loved his morning paper… Des Moines Register… at the cabin we would drive nearly 20 mile to get several different papers for Dad to read throughout the day.

Most of you know Dad was a Missouri Democrat… true blue democrat… his mantra was the Republicans take from the poor and give to the rich…. Didn’t like big oil… we Republican children stopped discussing any type of politics with dad several years ago… we couldn’t convince him, and he us… I almost thought dad wasn’t real comfortable voting for Barrack Hussein Obama, and he sure wasn’t going to vote for a Republican, so he just decided to check out of life…

Dad was able to marry all his kids and all the grandchildren old enough…. At Randy’s… he was at his best… toward the end, he would forget to include important parts like kiss your bride or exchanging rings… but at each there was so much fun, and laughter and love…. Nobody cared… it was a treat to have grandpa a part of each wedding.

Dad loved to meet new people… He never met a stranger, but would strike up a conversation with anyone… dad was remembered by most as someone with a large laugh and a slap to his knee.

I have heard from many people that they loved Dad’s stories… he was able to draw from his rich, but poor, childhood so many stories of his brothers and sisters and his mom and dad. His last story to me was about farming in the early 50’s with Grandpa Harm, and milking cows by hand… the self cleaning cream separator… complete with sound effects of how it sounded when it was cleaning… and about a particular cow that was a real milker; when they sold her, they got $300 for her..

Everything that I have spoken of above were the activities that we remember him being involved in… earthly things.

But by far the most important thing that ever happened to Dad was his conversion on April 3, 1961 while on the job at the Grinnell high school construction site… eating lunch… that was the greatest event in Dad’s life… he did become a new creation in Christ..

From that point, Dad changed… a Missouri childhood friend when told Dad was a pastor said, "I thought he would have been a horse thief."

It was during that time our mother left Dad… leaving him with 4 young children to raise… and he did it so faithfully….cooked, worked in the factory, took us to the laundromat on Friday nights along with visits to Auntie Gladys… Gary on the floor watching a movie, and Karen and her yappy, nervous, Pomeranian dog… …(my sisters remember me sticking my arm and swiping candy bars from the machine at the laundromat… and dad whipping me for that!!!) Jane remembers dad even whipping her when she was 17 for a lie she told… Randy remembers the episode of his 61 Chevy and the souped of racing motor he put in without Dad knowing it, and how Dad handled that... and Vivian remembers well, how Dad kept track of her high school parade of boys wanting to date her.... Dad didn't stop disciplining us when we reached 12... but we always felt completely loved... we all knew when we had it coming to us.

We moved to Searsboro in the spring of 1962, where Dad met Dorothy… when they were married, life got back to more normal… he was called into the ministry… and his first church was at Pleasant Ridge north of Coon Rapids… Dad didn’t have much theological training… as a matter of fact… his 8th grade education was about it… a little training at Vernard… but it was Dad’s heart, his care, his compassion to the church people that made him a pastor, and not a preacher…for over 40 years… Dad served at 5 different churches…

Tomorrow, dad will make our last trip to the cabin… there will be no stops along the way in some Podunk town… just because he had never been there… no stop for groceries… no stops for a paper… we will bury him in a place dear to his heart… Wexford… near an ancient Catholic church, within a few hundred yards of his favorite trout stream, within a few hundred yards from where he shot one of his earliest morning turkeys… an ideal place… almost heaven type place…

But not quite… however, we do know that Dad is in heaven… his faith of over 47 years says, “I have gone to prepare a place for you… not here on earth where things grow old, things rust out, things stop working… I go to prepare a place where there will be no more pain, no more heartache, no more loss of hearing or weakness of knees, but a place of perfect rest. "

Though he loved to have his family with him at the cabin…. Fishing on the banks of Wexford, he would much rather see each of you in heaven… seek the Lord today… while he may be found…

Dad’s life was colorful… dad touched more lives with his warmth, his friendliness, and his compassion…What a wonderful legacy he created to be passed on down through the Taylor bloodlines: always be engaged in other people’s lives, give care and comfort to those in need, laugh more than you cry; work hard, but don’t be so driven and consumed that you overlook the mushrooms, and flowers, and clear fishing streams, or your family… and love the Lord with all your heart.! Pretty simple life philosophy… going a shore and finding it heaven.... waking up in heaven.... and finding it home.

Staff Alumni-Cream of the crop

Every year, I go back and reflect on past staff as I try to select names for the Wall of Fame: a list of former summer staff that I consider the "cream of the crop"; those who did above what they were asked to do; those who worked selfishly so that the camper's needs were met, in spite of how the counselor felt... whether tired or sick, or both.

We have a board of names located in the Family Life Center: it is a reminder for campers to remember old counselors they might of had, and it is a form of recognition to those who served so faithfully for several summers; typically, the kids whose names are on the Wall of Fame are staff that stuck with us for more than 2 years. They started in high school for very low pay, and they continued once in college for very low pay.

I want some healthy competition amongst the staff; I want them to want to win as a counselor or a dish washer or a maintenance person. I don't want them to think that second best is o.k., and they don't have to give out 100% to the campers or to the camp. They have only 5 days to make a lasting impact on the lives of the young campers; it is possible that some of their campers might never attend camp again, or go to an evangelical church again; this might be the only chance for this camper to accept Christ.

Cream always rises to the top; the best staff will always shine out from their peers; they will get the job done when the circumstances around them appear to be impossible; they will meet the needs of each camper. Even after 2 weeks of camp, I am seeing patterns of greatness; and sometimes I am seeing patterns of laziness. When I see the lazy, I am quick to go after it and push this staff to excel; (some call it yelling or admonishing... I consider it spurring on!) Pushing for cream, but will settle for half and half!

This week our speaker is Chris Rollman; a former counselor who is now a youth pastor in Wichita Kansas. I saw CREAM in Chris when he was 16; he was responsive, responsible, and diligent in his duties even as a Jr. Counselor. As he matured and grew older I saw him even become more of a leader and an inspiration to the campers under him. I spoke to a pastor that Chris did an internship with in Orange City and the pastor said, "Chris could get a job anywhere he wants; he is that good of a kid, and is so prepared for ministry that any church in the United States would love to have him on their staff." And I fully agree.

You will hear reports that I am bossy, pushy, demanding, a little growly at times at the staff; at the time, the kids think I am just the grouchy old man at camp that makes their life miserable. I am glad they think that at times; I do want them to remember my admonishments and direction later in life when they get a real job and start paying in for my social security. I want them to be able to reflect back and be thankful for some good training that helped them become productive citizens.

Cream always rises to the top; while uncared for milk usually sours!

earldtaylor@yahoo.com

Jr High Week

It is Jr. High week; they come in all shapes and sizes; they come in all stages of maturity; some appear to me should be in 4th grade, while others look to be old enough to be in high school; but they all come with the same spiritual needs. Each one will have an encounter with the Almighty this week; some may reject, but our prayer is that all would accept this encounter and respond with an open heart.

Many have heard my testimony; it was at a Jr. High camp in 1967, that I put my faith in Christ. I don't suppose we had more than 50 campers in camp that week; we had volunteer counselors made up of parents or college kids; I don't remember the speaker or my counselor's name, but I remember the last night sitting around the campfire. We were to pick up a stick, which represented sin in our life and walk up to the fire and throw it in; a little bit corny... maybe not so accurate theologically, but the effects were, that I left the campfire that night a new creation in Christ.

That is exactly what I want to happen this week to the nearly 200 Jr. highers.

Much has changed in 41 years; my biggest problems as a emerging teen was an upstart of a pimple or the way I looked with a mouth full of braces. I don't remember being tempted by the culture or the world, to engage in lifestyle choices that are considered wrong. We had our home, a couple of neighborhood farm friends; we worked walking beans, weeding the garden, scooping hog manure, mowing the yard with a push mower, and occasionally we would ride our bikes a couple miles to a creek to try to catch a bull head. We didn't own a tv, didn't get a newspaper, didn't know what a computer was, and we only used the phone when we absolutely had to contact someone. We chased ground squirrels in the neighbor's pasture, we built forts in the neighbor's barn, we still played softball anytime we could get a couple teams together, and we all ate supper together as a family... at home. We went to week long Bible school all the way through high school... which lasted from 9 am to 3 pm., and we had a big turn out. We attended church twice on Sunday and on Wednesday nights. I bought my first bike for $29, and I thought I had spent my fortune.

It almost sounds like I was Opie Taylor, instead of Earl Taylor; almost. We didn't know we had it so good. But we can't go back; our culture began to slide backwards in the late 60's, and it has been a downhill slide since then; we were taught to question authority, question our faith; question our nation. The results ain't very pretty.

Most would say that kids are smarter today; they have been exposed to more information, more cultures; they do have more of a world view than I had when I was 13. A big trip to me was going to Colorado in 1964. Kids know it all, live it all, and want to experience it all... before their 14.

Where does camp fit in today? It is still just a relevant today as it was in 1967. Young people come with the same emptiness in their heart; they come also with more baggage, more hurts, more disappointments in their lives: but regardless, they come in need of Savior. It is the camps role to meet these spiritual needs through the impact of God's Word, our speaker, and our counselors; it is the faithfulness of the staff that breaks down barriers, softens hard hearts through love and attention; but it is the Holy Spirit that work deep in the soul of each camper that will convict. It is our prayer that when campers leave Hidden Acres they will have had their campfire experience.

Pray with us this very important week; this might be the last week of camp for kids; we see fewer and fewer kids come to camp after they reach high school.... we don't want to miss an opportunity.

earldtaylor@yahoo.com

Keeping is Simple: Miracle Poles to the Gospel

The week is over; first week of camp; 340+ campers; 3 different age groups; 2 different speakers; arrived in a torrential rainstorm; left with a cool breeze to their back and a sun filled sky: WONDERFUL WEEK!

The counselors outdid themselves this week. As I went around Wednesday night after the storm checking the covered wagons to see if there was any water issues in the wagons and switching on a light for the camper's return, I was shocked at the amount of wet clothes and muddy shoes laying around the small confines of the wagon. But one wagon counselor comments sticks out to me from the week: Molly, on two occasions came up and shared, "One of my campers rededicated their life to Christ tonight!" She came into the office on Wednesday evening prior to the storm and told me of one campers decision: I was too preoccupied by the radar screen to celebrate with her.

We celebrate on Friday evening at the final staff meeting of the week; counselors report of those who accepted Christ and of those of rededicated their lives. The counselors tell of funny stories of the week, heartaches of the week, and victories of the week. Without fail, one or two cabins have an outstanding week where every camper make decisions for Christ; other cabins report one or two that made decisions. Regardless, lives are being changed by the impact of the counselor and the speaker. Young people are looking for good, positive Christian models to cling to and to believe in. Over and and over I tell the summer staff, "Guard your heart, guard what you say and how you behave during the week; you have many sets of young eyes looking you over and checking your testimony out... one miss-said word or action can/will/could keep one of your campers from making the decision of a life time... to accept or reject Christ."

I fished with the fishing campers this week at my pond near my house; it was the only body of water not muddied by the rains. The boys were young and inexperienced in their fishing skills; I could tell some had never really handled a fishing pole before. They came to camp with nice new poles that mom and dad had bought them. Some were the complicated type: open-face-type, while others were the typical Zepco 202's. It didn't take me long to go to the house and drag out my 10+ simple telescopic, fiberglass cane poles. The boys looked at me and couldn't figure out what you could do with a 14' stick with a string attached to it. I called them my miracle poles: after the first two boys caught 8 or 10 fish with the miracle poles, other boys threw their rod and reels down and asked, "You have anymore of those miracle poles Earl?" By the end of the fishing time, all poles were being used, and everyone was catching fish.

Miracles poles: there was no miracle involved here; it was just a simple system of pole, line, and hook. No tangled lines, no balled-up reels, just the essentials. Like camp: miracle camp: campfire experience at camp... nothing fancy... no complicated program... no big time speaker... just a camp fire and a group of counselors and kids singing and sharing testimonies..... and then a miracle happens where the Spirit of the Lord moves into young people's hearts and they are changed by a simple declaration, "I accept you Lord. Forgive me of my sins. Come into my life."

Like the miracle poles, we want to keep it simple here at camp. It is about the heart of the camper.... period. Counselors don't need to understand deep theological issues in order to share their faith with campers; they need only to be available to share the simple truth that all are sinners and that Christ loved you so much that He died for your sins ... you only must confess and receive Him.

Why can't life be that simple in the adult world of life: why do we struggle so much to share our faith with those we work with and interact with throughout our day? Perhaps we too need to throw aside the complicated rods and reels of our evangelistic approach and pick up the simple and effective gospel of Christ... and begin to share as if we were sharing to a small child.

Let's go fishing... for eternity's sake!

earldtaylor@yahoo.com

During times of heartache and distress: Tornados and Floods

I read a quote from Cedar Rapids Sheriff on Fox News this afternoon: "We're just kind of at God's mercy right now, so hopefully people that never prayed before this, it might be a good time to start," Linn County Sheriff Don Zeller said. "We're going to need a lot of prayers and people are going to need a lot of patience and understanding."

God's mercy. It is fresh every morning! We do want and need his mercy: EVERY DAY... even when the sun is shining,when the birds are singing, and when the strong winds blow or the waters are rising.

I am glad that even the world knows that they are at God's mercy; my prayer is that they cry out for his mercy in 6 weeks or 6 months when the mud is dry, the sheet rock is patched, and life is back to normal. I was so encouraged after 9/11 for about a month as we heard people call out for the mercy of God, but they soon forgot, and turned back to their earthly cares.

In a week, we will be hosting the Valley EFC men that are training for disaster relief; they will bring their trailer full of tools: chainsaws and other equipment to bring aid to those who are hurting; they were in Parkersburg 2 weeks ago cutting up down trees, etc. What an opportunity for these men to share their testimonies. I love this type of practical ministry.

My challenge to all is that we capitalize on this window of opportunity to share our faith; this is a season of questions and lack of understanding by the pagan world; to them things are falling apart all around them and there are no answers for them. Have the right answer ready: I don't know about tomorrow, but I know who holds my hand and shows His mercy to me even when I don't deserve it.

earldtaylor@yahoo.com

Til' the Storm Passes Over

We were anxious last night; and rightly so; by 8 p.m., word had come to us that a tornado had hit a boy scout camp near Omaha, killing 4 and injuring 40+ campers and staff. We went into red alert; I quickly returned to camp, and hovered over the radar screen, manned the phone, and listened to WHO. By 9:15, the rainstorm arrived, with plenty of rain, and moderate winds. We had the kids all corralled inside, and key staff members knew what to do if I made the call to move the kids to the basement or into inside locker rooms.

The Storm passed over leaving plenty of puddles, lots of lingering lightning; but the campers made their way back to their cabins donning garbage bags for makeshift raincoats; I saw one group of girl campers splashing their way to the covered wagons, singing and enjoying the aftermath of a intense rain storm.

Our hearts ache this morning as we read in the papers and listen to the news about the boy scout camp tragedy. Within 8 minutes of the first tornado warning from the weather people, the storm snuffed out the lives of 4 young people. My prayer is that these boys knew Christ as their Savior. My prayer is for the parents and families will be ministered to during this time and that something good can come from all this.

The safety of 340 campers, 120 staff can scare a person into fear and trembling. But I don't let it weigh on me; I learned many years ago that the same hand of the Lord that has guided me through situations can also be the hand of protection. We reacted with our God given common sense and had the children in a controlled situation, we monitored the storm, and we reacted according to a plan, but in the end, it is the hand of the Lord that can move mountains, can calm the seas, and can create storms or diminish storms. We are chaff in the wind.

Chaff in the Wind: even with all the technology around us, we have no more control over the weather than we do when it come to the sun rising or sitting; we can only be bystanders, watching and wondering; do we watch with an eye that doesn't see God's hand, or do we watch and see God's ultimate plan playing out in right in front of our eyes?

Should we grow tired of the rain, the mud, the excessive wet area? It grates on the nerve; but when the storm passes over and we know who is in control, we can rest, knowing that this is the same God that protected Israel by day and by night; he will do the same for us.

earldtaylor@yahoo.com

Capture the Flag- It must be Wednesday night

There is no other activity that we play at camp like capture the flag; and always on Wednesday; campers and staff would rather not eat for the day than miss capture the flag. All day long, there is a quiet buzz around camp; it starts with a bandanna around the head in the morning; and by supper time, it looks like we have a full blown war on our hands; camouflage, face paint, special hats... counselors come to camp with particular clothing and makeup packed just for this one night of fun.

I don't understand the game; I think there is a flag involved; I think there are couple teams chasing through the timber looking for each other's flag; I think each team can capture members of the other team. I know they get into lots of poison ivy, they get lots of scratches and bruises and bumps; and I know the kids love it.

Actually, I don't think all staff and campers are as equally excited about the game; I am almost certain there are a few die hard players; you can see it in their preparation; excessive camo, face paint, and packs are all necessary gear. There are others who get excited about the game, because it's what you are supposed to do; and others, they tag along for the social networking of the evening. It gives them a little time to hang with a few friends.

There have been other activities that have come and gone or at least only gets play sporadically. It appears to me for the boys, it gives them a taste of what it is like to be a soldier. For the girls... I have no idea why a dainty, pretty young lady would like such a game.

It is good that camp has certain traditions; each generation of campers has the same type of experience while at Hidden Acres. It is the type of experience that former camper parents will tell their children; "When you go to camp... you will play capture the flag or you will eat one of the camps famous chocolate chip cookies or a sticky cinnamon bun."

I don't want certain things to change at camp; I want the camp to hold on tightly to certain activities; capture the flag has been going on for 21 years; cookies for 18 years; cinnamon buns for 22 years. The sound preaching of the gospel of Jesus Christ.... since the beginning... 29 years.

Sound Biblical teaching and preaching goes beyond what is fun or tasty; it is essential to everything we do.

I don't like mixing other parts to the gospel either; I have to guard against the evil one trying to slip in something through the counselors; something they think might be innocent; something like a Harry Potter, or a yoga meditation: for many young Christians, everything can be mixed in with Biblical truth and still come out pure and sound. It won't get easier either. I see many compromises in the under 30 crowd; they are the same ones falling for the smooth talk of Obama, without understanding what he really stands for. They are so easily deceived; they lack a discerning spirit to know and understand what is best for them; and consequently settle for a luke-warm type of Christianity that lacks power and fervency.

Traditions: carpet ball, capture the flag, cookies and the life changing gospel of Jesus Christ: God's Word. Pray with me that I can be an influence on these young people with a loving spirit and a kind word.

earldtaylor@yahoo.com

Jr. Maintenance Boys- 1st Job

For the lack of a better title we called them the Jr. Maintenance boys; they were 14-15 year old kids who attended camp as kids, were still too young to be counselors; but they wanted to work at camp. Around 1990, the Jr. maintenance program began. Some of the first boys were Seth Peterson, Joel Saleh, Daniel Poyzer, Seth Anderson, P.J Holmertz, Ryan Graden,Brandon Wind, and Brett Wiuff. We paid them $25 a week, so that we could fire them if they got out of hand; we work their tails off. Garbage, weed whipping, mowing, firewood, and even slopping the hogs with scraps from the kitchen.

We didn't know what we were doing those first years; we yelled, pushed, pulled, and tried to get them moving in the same direction. Always, by the end of the summer, I was worn out from keeping them busy. Not one has ever come back to me and said, "I hated my time here working for nothing." Everyone reflects back on the good old days and laughs and knows that was great training for becoming a man.

Seth Peterson is now 31 and is the construction coordinator for us at the camp... he did all the electrical and geo-thermal on the family life center... plus alot more; Seth Anderson just graduated from medical school; Brett Wiuff is with Navigators in Oregon; P.J. Holmertz is a family counselor with the Valley EFC; Ryan Graden is the Program Director at Hidden Acres; Joel Saleh is a railroad engineer; Daniel Poyzer is a computer programmer; Brandon Wind is still wanting to be in a rock and roll band.

First jobs are interesting at best; a young person wants to do well; they want to be paid fairly; they want to be spoken of highly. Some meet those expectations, while others fail miserably. They boys mentioned above all survived their 2 months and developed into fine young men.

I recall my first job beside walking beans. As a Jr. higher, I gathered eggs at a Hy-Line chicken farm outside of Coon Rapids; I received $.75 per hour: $6 for a days work. I thought it was great; I scooped chicken manure, cleaned out waters, gathered eggs, and anything else Harold Hagge asked me. I moved up to a $1 per hour in high school loading hay bales for Sonny. By my sophomore year, I made a whopping $1.60 per hour working at the Hotel Muscatine for Mike Rewaldt, doing dishes and busing tables. While in my senior year in high school, I took an evening job in a factory, making an astounding $4.22 per hour. I had made it to the big time.

By today's standards, I was working for nothing. Today, baby sitters make more than I did while welding in a factory. But work is good for the soul. I had no self-esteem issues when I was young; I was needed by someone. Sonny or Harold was counting on me to be there and to work hard for them.

Tomorrow, summer staff will come in and work for 8 weeks; Senior staff will make around $160 per week, Jr. staff will make around $70 per week. Maintenance boys will make around $70 too; They work 10+ hours a day for 5 or 6 days. Sr. and Jr. counselors are at it 24 hours a day; they are taking care of children late into the night, and they are awakened early for trips to the bathroom or for other reasons. They may put in over 100 hours a week; you do the math; that is about the same pay I received in 1972.

And they love it. And it is good for them. The will move on into adulthood better for having spent their summers at camp. They will be better teachers, parents, church workers, or whatever else they add to their resume. Camp molds young people into thinking, problem solving adults that will one day reflect back on their camps days and say, "That was great training, and well worth the nearly $1.60 an hour I made!


earldtaylor@yahoo.com

First Night of Camping- June 1, 2008

The fire is burning; the mosquitoes are biting; the sun is just setting; and the birds are making their final good night calls; life is good in a tent. I may get to liking this simple life. After the first midnight thunder storm, I am sure I will sing a different song.

Lead staff arrived today at camp; these are some of the best; proven kids that we have moved into leadership roles; kids that have been here many years as campers and as counselors. We are depending on these kids to lead the remaining 100 staff who arrive on Tuesday. After that, it is full bore at camp.

One would hope that by sitting quietly by a campfire that some profound thoughts would come to mind; new discoveries would pop into my head; complicated systems would suddenly seem simple to my simple mind; new building designs would come to mind… I am sitting only a few feet away from where the new motel lodge will be built. But, probably nothing new will come; the fire will turn into embers, my eyes will be filled with smoke and I have been quiet for 30+ minutes. “Be still and know that I am you God!”

It is fun for me to sit right next to the site of the motel; not so many years ago I remember the site being used for something else. When I arrived at Hidden Acres, a large brick hog shed that had been converted into a shop area and a recreation area sat on this site. The original foundation can still be seen. Behind the hog shed, we had two mobile homes; one was used for housing, the other was used as a kitchen for the first camp in 1983. Over the years, the hog shed was torn down, an above ground swimming pool was erected, carpet ball tables were moved in, and even a few campers were parked on the site over Labor Day family camp. Finally, the last building that I will remember will be built here.

As I mentioned the hog shed and mobile homes, a conversations comes to mind I had with a young man in his thirties on Saturday. International Messengers were training short term missionaries that will go into Europe this summer. One young men that was helping with the training, an International Messenger staff member told me, "I accepted Christ here in 1983 during Basketball camp with coach Bob and with Mike Shea the speaker." 25 years later, this young man is still going strong in his faith; a missionary; a soul winner. And he still remembers his coach, speaker, and that he stayed in the old tentels. I was blessed with his testimony from this young man from Ft. Dodge. Those who remember that summer, can remember a summer of mud, back up sewer systems, and uncompleted lodge, and toilets that shocked you when you flushed. It is no wonder that the Lord took that building home through fire 5 months later.

What will kids remember 25 years from now? Are we going to leave such big tracks behind us that we will be remembered; or are we only going to leave a few scuffles in the leaves that won't be noticeable after a few years?/ My pastor talked about this this morning; Paul wrote, watch what I do. Our pastor told the story of a Christian man who told a seeker, "If you want to understand what Christianity is about, walk along side of me for two months!" I am not sure I could/would make that statement.

We are walking through this life; some are on the run; but regardless we better understand that we are creating tracks of some kind; will they be tracks that will lead others to Christ; or will they will be tracks that will be seen as hypocritical and full of empty words. Will campers some day return to Hidden Acres and remember who the camp director was, who the camp speaker was, or who their counselor was? My prayer is that is would be so; that they too would still be strong in their faith; ready with their testimony of how Christ met them in a special way while at camp.

earldtaylor@yahoo.com