Familiar Carpet

This summer I got to spend 3 weeks at one of my favorite places in the world, it is a place where I have spent a portion of my summer every year since I was about 9. Camp Timberlake in Forsyth, Georgia.
Camp is such an amazing place where the expectancy for God to show up and dramatically change lives is higher than any place I have ever been.
Every summer I get super-charged from the nightly altar calls and I come home excited for school to start.
Returning to camp this year I began thinking.


Our “sanctuary” is a huge metal building clearly divided into 2 halves by a really ugly curtain that spans the width of the building. The first, being a basketball court, has been the site of more dodge-ball casualties than anyone cares to count though it seems that the threat of a ball sized scar to the face has yet to prevent any eager camper from jumping on the court in a frenzy.
The other half is the place of all the real excitement.
There is a stage up front, usually covered with instruments or puppet stages, and to the left and right of it are giant makeshift screens for use with the projector. About 10 feet from the edge of the stage is the shore of the sea of dying metal chairs which hold our butts in discomfort as our hearts are in metamorphoses.
The entire floor is clothed with what you could vaguely call carpet. Really it is a thin brown sheet that used to be carpet and only serves to further the distinction between the halves of the building. I know this carpet better than any spot on the entire camp.
The reason for this is simple. Every summer I spend every night of the week on my face, on that carpet.
It is the place where lives are changed, it is the place that all the good ole Pentecostal worship that everyone expects takes place.
As I was sitting in one of the services this summer I began to reflect on that old beaten carpet.
How many times had I myself had such encounters with God on that very spot?
How many of my sins were forgiven, promises were made and reassurances received on that very carpet?
Then I began thinking what that does to carpet. Thousands upon thousands of people, from almost birth to senior status, have wept for joy or sorrow on that carpet. I have seen people in such attitudes of worship that they would never want to be seen in public because a combination of tears, snot ad sweat have flowed off of them. And onto the carpet.
Despite the gross salt content of this carpet, I love it.
I love that carpet because it is where I continue to find who I am.

In a week I begin my senior year of high school.
A couple of years ago I would have laughed at anybody who said that I would be scared at the up-coming year because back then I had it all figured out. I really thought I knew everything.
Right now I have no idea where my feet will take me when they lead me off the graduation stage.
It seems as though my whole life has been crescendo-ing to this year and I really am excited at the amazing things God has planned for this year and for my life. I have always seen the big picture and now I just don’t know how to get there.
I am learning that I need to take the feeling of that familiar carpet in to unfamiliar territory.

I have learned a lot this summer, and am still learning.
I may not have the emotional encounters with God every day but He will never be too far away. I trust Him, wherever He leads me.