workcamp

I couldn't sleep. So instead, I just laid in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling and listening to the Galloways prepare for the beach. As I laid there, my mind drifted over this past week: Memphis Workcamp.

See, this is another thing that I have never been a part of but had to throw myself into. Crazy sounding, yes, but usually...ok always, worth it. But to be honest, I wasn't too confident about the positivity of this week. Monday night, surrounded by a lot of people I didn't know, I figured this was just something I would have to get through.

But then a moment came where it hit me. I look through human eyes a lot, and it wasn't until I was alone, covering up chipping, hunter green paint on the side of a house in a poverty stricken neighborhood that my eyes were opened for the first time.
I was a "co-crew leader" for a team of 10. Meaning, I goofed off with the kids and occasionally took care of some responsibility. And it was hot. And we had to scrape paint off of a house. On ladders. And there were wasps. But I will never forget this week. I will never forget the miracle and evidence of Jesus in that kids from all over the place, who have never met before, can come together and not only get along, but revive a house. From start to finish. I bonded so much with these kids and loved every minute I got to spend with them. But more importantly, as I put a coat of fresh, white paint on top of a decaying, old, chipping wall, I saw Jesus.
"He makes all things new."
And as I looked around and listened to all the voices crying out for Him in earnest on nights of worship, I felt alive. I felt incredible gratitude for existing in a place where kids are desperate for Him, and you can see it on their faces. You can see it in their closed eyes and softly swaying bodies. George said it almost every night, and it is so true. Hearing these kids reminds me of why I believe. I was so grateful that they haven't become jaded by the trials of the world just yet. That they can still worship and love in innocence and with their whole hearts. Because every time I see this and every moment spent with these kids is like rewriting my history. Mending my heart and fixing the broken.