More of God and less of me

Just got back from our camp, which seemed at this stage to be a success. There was lots going on – the campsite at Oasis in Mount Evelyn has transformed itself in the past few years from being a place that the kids whinged about having to go to again (it has been about 3 years mind you), to the point where they are now keen as to head back there next time we’re having a camp. The facilities are unreal – they’ve got a sweet as basketball court area and it’s seriously sweet!

But it probably goes without saying that the camp is not actually about the sweet facilities, nor it is really about the games and stuff. We had some pretty decent spiritual times with the guys: there were a few chances for the kids to get some hardcore prayer happening and quite a few took up the opportunity. We had some very solid talks from people, and a couple of the girls who got baptised a month or so ago gave testimonies, which was very huge and very, very powerful. The wisdom that God has put in some of our kids blows me away!

It was a really funny camp for me. I don’t know whether it was overtiredness or something spiritual or just general weirdness, but I found myself really down for most of the camp. It didn’t really make much sense, and it was strange because it was something that I was aware of the whole time. I’m not normally that aware that I’m being a pill until looking back afterwards. But most of the camp I was short with people, I was too competitive in games, I wasn’t really that nice to be around. I still had good chats with some kids, and I’m sure probably still did some good somewhere in there, but it was a really strange feeling. I felt almost like I was back to being a self-absorbed teenager again.

So when it came around to the Sunday afternoon talk I was quite worried that I was going to be flat, which the kids always seem to detect straight away and lose interest soon after. But the weirdest thing happened. Once I got up to speak, there wasn’t really that much of me in it at all. I’d been feeling rubbish, but this didn’t feel rubbish at all. It’s hard to admit that God might have been releasing the spiritual gift of teaching in me without feeling like you’re being an arrogant naff-head, but I really think that it was there.

And in the “waiting for the Holy Spirit” time, God was in it. There’s not much I understand about it, but I know one thing for sure. I’d given up on me delivering some brilliant talk to these kids, and somehow God took some of it over. Now that’s not to say I didn’t rescue some of it back for myself, or that there wasn’t a problem with afterwards seeing the beginnings of some nasty pride again when people were saying that they’d liked the talk. But I really don’t think it was all me speaking. (Edit – I also meant to add that obviously it certainly wasn’t the perfect talk, by any stretch – just that God was in it)

So, in the words of the penguin from Fight Club: “Slide”