It’s always a funny feeling to return home after serving in a camp. One is so ridiculously tired that crashing for a few hours and the subsequent zombie effect has a numbing effect on the experience of the past few days.
In this respect the St. Bern’s Camp is no different. But strangely, there is a longing within me, wishing that camp did not end. “Bittersweet” is a word that I think may describe it in secular terms, but it in itself is insufficient to convey the depth and length of emotion and disposition. Analogically, the experience was probably a drop of heaven, mixed in the vast ocean of humanness (much like the mixing of Eucharistic water and wine). Divine love poured out leading to moments of immense grace, but accompanied by other moments of doubt and brokenness. I can only attribute this to spending four days in front of the Blessed Sacrament, praying and interceding for the participants.
I had such a blessed time being part of the intercessory team, and I thank God for calling me to serve Him in such a manner. Praying for others (especially those who are initially strangers) is a beautiful and humbling encounter because of it’s inherent self-disinterestedness. The process is one where love is being purified, just like gold that is tempered in fire. There is also a quiet but lasting joy that arises from having complete dependence on God. As a facilitator, I can rely on my experience. As a musician, I can rely on my skill. But as a intercessor, I can only beseech God to teach me how to love and pray since the very act of interceding is so intertwined with the person of Jesus, the King of intercessors.
I was deeply affirmed and moved as the “Faithful God” mime was being presented by the service team. It is the story of my life. it is the story of all our lives. As my eyes rested on each individual member, it was as if their very lives were being poured forth – their personal hurts, pains, dreams, desires and loves, culminating in a living testimony of God’s walk with them, leading to where they were now. The invisible song of the heart that was playing was this: Faithful God, every promise kept. Every need You’ve met, faithful God. All I am and all I’ll ever be, is all because You love faithfully, faithful God.
Lord I thank you for the helping me see your faithfulness in my life. I pray for all those who have yet to do so – open our hearts to the Love that You are.
And I came to you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling. My speech and my proclamation were not with plausible words of wisdom, but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God. (1 Cor 2:3-5)