680 plus miles.

14 hours in the car.

Driving past what felt like every single "blink-and-you'll-miss-it" small town in the Midwest.

Winding up in a middle-of-nowhere camp with zip cell reception.

Why?

"...to make all men see what is the fellowship of the mystery..." (Eph. 3:9)

I spent the week prior to arriving at this beautiful place fretting and freaking out. All the planning and prep work that had gone into this event had me running in circles. I mean, how on earth does one truly prepare for a weekend of ministry in which you have to cook meals for 45-50 people, make sure everyone has what they need and is happy, all in a place you have never been to before and have very little idea of what to expect?

So I fretted.

Then we arrived.

And my mind was blown.

My soul was completely refreshed, and there were several moments over the weekend where I found my self near tears of joy. Everyone brought food, which was my biggest worry, and we had a beautiful abundance! I had so much help in the kitchen that everything ran like a well-oiled machine.




We played. We ate. We sang. We hugged. We talked. We smiled till it hurt and laughed till we cried.






We are the next generation. We are the heartbeat of the movement.

If not us, then who?