Last week I returned to the place where it all began. The Salisbury Diocese Youth Camp. One year later. Same place and a lot of the same people... and the same amazing stuff.
At the beginning of the week, the worship was somewhat half-hearted. Everyone was singing, but not really getting into it.
Of course, it escalated throughout the week. By Tuesday night, everyone was dancing as they praised God. I couldn't dance because I had to mess around with a laptop and make sure the words got onto the screen, but a couple of times, near the end, I just thought "Oh they know the words to this one" and got up out of my seat.
One night I was sat in the prayer tent with a couple of people I had met on the camp. One of them was a 20 year old called Jon, a fellow leader. The other was a camper called Michael, I think he is 15. Jon was new to the team. Michael was there last year, but I hadn't really spoken to him properly.
I started thinking about my dad. I suddenly got this urge to tell them everything. I hadn't really sat down and talked to anyone about it properly before. They sat and listened, they didn't mind at all. After I had finished talking, I told them I wouldn't be able to sleep. They didn't leave me there, they stayed there with me. I went and sat beside the big wooden cross that was hung inside the tent. They joined me, sitting on the ground. I felt really depressed. Jon hugged me and Michael sat silently, praying. I began to pray. I begged God to take the pain away and then I started to cry. I didn't cry for very long and after I had, the pain did go away. I think I had needed an opportunity to let my feelings out and God had provided it. Not only that, but he had blessed me with new friends.
We sat there until about 4am, talking. It's strange, I know I probably won't see those two for another year but I feel like I have this connection with them now, particularly Jon, who I spent quite a lot of time talking to on this camp. In fact, I have pointed him in the direction of this site so hopefully he will be joining us.
The last night of worship had quite an effect on me. The guy leading it told anyone who wanted to come closer to God to just stand up and then someone would go round and pray for them. I stood up and a girl called Eva came over and prayed for me. As we began singing again, I was overcome with emotion. You can stand there singing "Because of Jesus, I am forgiven, I am restored" and things like that, but only occasionally will it really sink in what Jesus has done for you. I carried on until the end of the worship and then went to the prayer tent.
Michael was in the prayer tent, he was busy praying. You could tell it had had an incredible effect on him. I knelt beside him, thanked God and cried for a bit. It took a little while for my emotions to get back to normal after that.