![]() |
| The first time I went to Camp.... |
Have you ever noticed that there are some places that are always home? A place that, as soon as you arrive something just feels right?
For me one of those places is Camp Maskepetoon, along the north shore of Pigeon Lake. I went as a camper three time as a child and enjoyed myself greatly. I still have some very clear memories of wide games, of sleeping at outback, of the ghost story The Claw (which we were told the night before going to sleep at outback in 1980--probably not the best timing). I remember a talent show in 1981. I remember campfire singing (where I first learned to sing with glee about the sinking of the Titanic) and telling stories and jokes when we were probably supposed to be singing. We had great times.
Then 8 years later, in my second year of university, I was looking for a summer job. As an Education student I was looking for something that might be slightly career oriented. In the job centre in the Student Union Building was a listing for staff positions at Camp Maskepetoon and I thought it sounded good so I applied to be the Devotions Director. I got an interview (and can still name the three people who interviewed me 37 years later) and was offered the position.
Realistically, I had no idea what I was doing. I certainly had no idea that my life was about to be changed. It was just a summer job....right?
![]() |
| Cooking at camp can be...different |
I had a great summer. I went back the next year in the same job. Then ended up going back to work in the kitchen for a third summer at camp. Took a few years off, working summer jobs at a golf course clubhouse (which was great, good people but not the same). Then I needed something for another summer and applied to work in the kitchen again. Did that for 2 years.
Then was asked to be on the Board, which I did for three years before going off to finish my degree and start my career. While on the Board I helped hire three sets of staff. And because I had three days or four days off in a row every week (one of the blessings of shift work) I spent LOTS of time out at the lake visiting, singing, and helping with whatever needed to be done.
Camp changed me. Camp changed my life direction. If it hadn't been for those first 2 summers I might not have started to feel called to ministry. But it was more than that.
I made friends at that place. Friends that I have not seen for years but in June when we all gathered for a reunion the connection was still there. I grew spiritually at that place. Eveneings standing on the beach staring at the lake and the sky, nights at outback sitting around the fire, the (sort of) stillness of sitting in one of many canoes as the whole camp group canoes across the lake. Times that opened my heart and soul.
These were times of laughter. Times of hijinks == the time we hung a bunk in a tree, or the day in 1999 when I came out of the cabin to find that my car (which I had foolishly left the keys in) had been moved to the middle of the cabin area and mummified in saran wrap. There were games played, hiding in the bush, chasing each other around the sports field. It was a place where we were invited to be free to be who we really were. In a time of my life where I had few places where I felt really comfortable Camp stands out as that place. At camp I was free to make a fool of myself (arguably something that came naturally). Before camp I would never have seen myself leading campfire songs.
I would never have thought I might offer the first car I ever owned up for redecoration.
Many years later I moved back to Alberta. My daughters became old enough to go as campers. I convinced them to give it a try -- which was an easy sell as they had experienced church camping before -- and every year as we turned into the driveway to drop them off my heart sang. We always got there early enough to have time to walk around the site before leaving however many of them were staying that week/ I wanted, no needed, to walk around this sacred place, to sit on the campfire benches, to walk down to the chapel. Just to be there for that 45 minutes gave me some renewal.
ANd it worked again. this summer two daughters are on staff (one for the 4th summer) and one is volunteering. For some of us camp seeps into your bones and draws you back.
At the reunion for the 70th anniversary last month I was asked to say a few words about what camp meant to me. The first word that came to my mind was HOME. Wherever I go that place will go with me. Later this summer I am going to spend a week as Camp Dad and general helper. I look forward to seeing what a week at camp looks like now and how it is both the same and different as when I spent all those days there long ago.
If you get a chance to experience church camp ministry TAKE IT. Just be aware that it might affect you more than you expected.









