What I Learned At Camp

As a youth minister, this is my 3rd summer attending camps with our church kids. Being on this side of the fence is interesting. You're expected to be "The Adult" but be a part of all the kid stuff as well. I'm going to be 35 in September. My mind stopped maturing at age 13. So, mentally any underarm noise making, fart jokes, loudest burps, wedgy-giving is right up my ally. My 9 year old son thinks I'm the coolest dad on the planet simply because of my unmannerly manner. As each year passes, I love doing these summer camps more and more but, you have to take the good with the uncomfortable. The camp I'm at this week is a sports camp for 4th-7th graders. The RPM level on these kids is pegged at redline. I love it. My body doesn't. Tuesday, I'm doing the Track and Field stuff with a portion of my group. These kids are highly competitive and this is the perfect forum for them to push themselves faster and farther. Well, the coach got to a point where she was talking to the kids about long distance running. To demonstrate the concept the only way to really appreciate the idea is to...just do it! Up until now, I was hiding behind my camera, only there to memorialize the occasion with some action shots. Then came the challenge. "Dave, you gonna run with us?" Now, to these 12 year old boys asking, it was just an open invitation and a simple question. To me, it was a dare that hung on the last strings of my athletic pride. At first, I said "Aww, guys...thanks for asking but I have to take the pics." You see, what makes this situation tense for me is I'm standing there wearing brand new $80 Nike Running Shoes that I convinced Sarah I needed to buy last Saturday before camp. I bought them for the way they looked, not how fast or far I could run in them. I don't know how long it's been since my feet have moved faster than "stroll". What choice did I have? The coach yelled "Follow me" and I did. And did. And did. Dear Lord. I thought she was going to take it easy on these poor little 12 year old boys and the bald, panting freak bringing up the rear. Nope. If you ever wanted to see a simulation of someone having a massive coronary, you could've seen it in all its violent glory by the time we returned from our very long distance run. Don't ask me how far I ran because I couldn't tell you. Between the sweat stinging my eyes and the heavy gasping, it all came down to "I will not be 'that guy' who walked the last half." And I didn't. I finished. As I stood there, bent over with my hands on my knees, all I could hear was me gasping for air and the sound of my pulse in my head as I took in the sight of my new $80 Running shoes, once again. I should've spent the $80 on a new pair of legs and lungs. So, after my run, like any true athlete, I took a nap. I can't forget about the girls in our group. Now, I have about as much in common with an 11 year old girl as Nancy Reagan has with 50Cent. Understanding that, I was approached by them last night and they said they had a "surprise" for me. Can I share a little advice? Anytime five 11 year old girls come to you giggling saying they have a "surprise", chances are you won't be getting a cake made in your honor. More than likely, your masculinity will be stripped down and diminished in some way or another. So, when they approached me with this "surprise", I knew I was in for it and didn't even put up a fight. Like a lamb to the slaughter, they covered my eyes and led me to the girl's dorm lobby. That was when I was met with a tackle box of fingernail polish and all of the junk that goes along with it. One of them massaged my bald head as the others each took a hand (and foot) and proceeded to paint anything nail related. As I type this, I'm typing with painted nails. This is how 11 year old girls show love for their youth minister and I wear this polish with pride. Although, when I hit the Starbucks here on campus this morning, I'm sure the lady at the register had more than one theory as to why I handed her a $5 bill with painted fingernails. What I've learned at camp is that being a youth minister teaches me a lot more about myself than what I'll ever be able to impart to these kids. I wouldn't trade it for anything.