Campfire Call to Worship

 The last night of camp proved to be the best night of all. God began building His message in me all through the day. Like a smoldering fire that begins to build and grow, so did God's word in me. It felt like hot lava churning and belching from a volcano ready to explode. 

By the time we gathered for worship the natural light was fading fast. When it came time to preach, I could see to read the first few verses. After that I had to preach from memory because I could not see the text. I cannot explain fully what happened next. God's word burned in me so feverishly I could not preach any harder, with more passion, more on fire, or with greater forcefulness. It really felt like God erupted truth inside me like a volcano. I felt that truth down in the deepest parts of my soul. I preached like I would never get to preach again. Everything pint up in me had to come out. No holding back. I could not preach that same message in the same no matter how hard I tried. 

The theme of the camp was "ignited." The theme of the message that night was to spread the flame back home. During the invitation students were challenged to take seriously the call to spread the flame back in Sudan, TX. Adults were challenged to do the same. Students were asked to leave their seats and stand by the fire if they would commit to spread the flame. Several started getting up. They were all asked to sit down again while the challenge was made even harder for full commitment. Half a dozen got up a second time to stand by the flame. 

Turner handed each of them a long match. A second challenge was issued for the leader of the group to ignite their match and spread the flame. Matches were passed to all the group. One young lady ignited her match first and the flames spread around the campers. Then the students and adults were challenged for form prayer huddles and to pray for God's work to spread back home once the matches flamed out. It was so dark faces could not be made out in the dancing shadows of the campfire flames. Multiple groups huddled and prayed. Time became irrelevant. Tears flowed frequently. Arms were placed on the shoulders of the others in the prayer huddles. I sat back and watched God do His marvelous work among us. 

When all the groups finished praying nobody returned to their seat. They circled around the campfire and worshipped. Pure, sincere, authentic, emblazoned worship like I have not experienced in a long time. At one point I looked up at the towering cottonwood trees swaying back and forth in the wind. Each branch seemed like a hand held high in exaltation of the King of Kings. We sang. Then somebody would feel compelled to speak a word. Then we would sing some more. This pattern repeated for a long time. I think that one service lasted for two and a half hours. The majority of that time was the prayer and worship after the message. God truly saved the best for last.