Growing up, there was one week out of the year that my family looked towards with as much anticipation as Christmas morning.
We piled in the car around 4am on a Saturday morning and started the drive to Long Beach Harbor in California. The next day, we boarded the Catalina Express, and after two hours on the open water, finally arrived at our destination. As the ferry was being tied to the dock, we poked our heads around the sea vessel and strained for a look of Gallagher’s Cove. The welcoming pier, jetting out into the bright blue water, the desert island, reaching for an even brighter sky--this was where we would be for the next six days. Family Camp.
The Sherman family: Dad, me, mom, and Whitnee. Catalina Island, 1995.
InterVarsity's Campus by the Sea on Catalina Island was the place our family committed to intentionally serve the Lord together. It was where my Dad found rest and my mom remembered trips her family took to the cove. It was where I understood how to love the Lord and his people.
As a young camper, I remember walking off the boat and onto the pier anticipating the week of family camp. The super-cool college students greeted us with cheers and smiles and I wondered which one would be my counselor for the week. Like shopping at Christmas time and wishing that Santa would bring the right toy, us kids threw up secret prayers to heaven for the counselor we surmised would be the most fun. As a low-profile, but high achieving kid, I worked hard for my counselors to like me as much as I liked them. I made them crafts at the craft shack, coincidentally appeared where they were hanging out, and ate beyond when I was full so I could raise a bowl at dinner and have a counselor come bring more food. I listened intently to their stories, admired the clothes they wore, and even got a little nervous in their presence. They were the people I wanted to be like when I grew up.
When I graduated high school I was only sure of one thing: I was working at Campus by the Sea. It didn’t matter that I had no idea where I was going to college--I couldn’t wait to be one of the counselors in a staff shirt, greeting family campers on the pier, and running to and from the kitchen serving dinner.
The summer of 2008 was everything I dreamed it would be. For seven weeks I woke up to the rays of the rising sun on my face and the sound of the waves crashing on the rocky shore. I counseled the adorable 1st and 2nd graders, made life long friends, spent sacred moments with the Lord, learned to love hiking, and soaked up every moment under the mentorship of our program directors, Mama V and Papa Paul. My worldview was shaped in this place with these people. My love to serve was realized in Gallagher’s Cove. My faith was formed by the culture of those 7 weeks on the island.
Jake, me, Mama V, and Whitnee the summer of 2013--one week before Jake and I are hitched.
That was the first of four summers I spent on staff at CBS. As I returned to camp each year, I had the unique privilege to see children I loved grow, doubting teenagers come to faith, marriages heal, and families commit themselves to Christ. These summers were times of incredible growth; living in a remote cove with no access to technology preserves a unique environment and opportunity to pursue intentional community, appreciate nature, and seek the Lord. It’s an experience I long to share, feel responsible to protect, and ache for on a regular basis.
I'm a camp counselor by default. I can revert to those skills, those jokes, those songs, those conversations at a moment's notice. It's a persona and a way of life that was bred in me at camp and is part of me now. It is an ethic and ideal for Christian living--a picture of a future hope.
You'll get a good feel for a week at camp watching this highlight reel Jake put together from our summer at camp in 2013.