I have a story to tell you, but first need to provide a little background information and set the scene.
I recently attended a Workcamp in Oakland, Maryland. Workcamps are weeklong home-repair projects involving volunteers from church youth groups. At each Workcamp, hundreds of teenagers and adult sponsors come to a community like Oakland, MD and spend five days repairing homes for elderly, low-income, and disabled residents.
This was my third Workcamp in as many years and this year I worked as a Staff Volunteer. In my role as Site Coach I was able to assist camp participants with questions and problems at work sites, offer encouragement and suggestions, and assists in activities back at the lodging facility. There are many other Staff Volunteer roles available. The volunteer staff typically arrives a day prior to the rest of the “campers” to complete preparations and review guidance from Group Workcamps Foundation. We taped signs to walls, moved furniture, caught-up on family and friends, and got to know the other volunteers whom we were just meeting.
A former member - Shari Telleen - moved out of state several years ago and encouraged the youth at her new church to join this Workcamp as well. She too volunteered but for a different Staff position. I was very happy to have a familiar person with whom I could share this “new” experience.
Once camp begins officially, the focus is on campers and the residents we were there to serve. This year, for the first time, both of my daughters were able to attend with our church youth group. Every morning and evening the whole camp gathers to prepare or reflect on the day. Songs of praise, scripture, and life lessons are shared collectively. It is hard to imagine a better environment for high school youth - considering the world we live in these days. As the week progressed, we heard campers describe how events of the day had moved them and provided a feeling of closeness to God. This is one of those stores.
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On Thursday evening, as campers pried themselves from post supper social activities and assembled in the High School Gymnasium for evening “Program”, the air was warm and saturated from day long rains. Slides on the screen showed various crews and residents at work and play. Cheers arose as familiar faces appeared. The crowd filed in and we were instructed to sit with our Youth Groups.
Somewhere during the first 30 minutes, it dawned on me that my two wonderful daughters were experiencing this gathering of Christian fellowship as individuals. No longer was “Daddy” holding hands, guiding them along, introducing them, and explaining what they were involved in. That simple realization brought a great sense of joy to my heart and tears to my eyes. Maybe that’s why Thursday evening is affectionately known as “Cry Night”.
The program tied together several themes which we had prayerfully considered earlier in the week: renovate, forgive, choose, love, peace and live. We sang. We prayed. We watched as a video played and a family considered the ultimate sacrifice to save the planet. The whole time, I cried. I thought, “Now Lord. I’m ready now - thank you!” I was so happy and at peace to see those two young women in fellowship with God. I hoped everyone would feel his presence in some way that evening - but I knew I was blessed and my heart was full.
At the end of the program, everyone was invited to silently experience several “stations” which related to the week’s themes. The gym was darkened, soft music played, and the slides provided a running explanation for each stop. Participants received a large nail - like you would use to build a house. At each station, you would collect an item or use the nail to express an emotion: We tied knots in crepe paper strips for personal relationships in need of repair; we scratched our nails into stones to relieve stress and feel peace; we etched names into small squares of paper for people we desired to share forgiveness with; we tasted the sweetness of life with Christ by briefly sucking on a lifesaver. After each station’s experience, we were to push our nail through that item. Knotted paper, lifesaver, & forgiveness notes, pierced by our nail finally had to be forced into a cross which had been standing in front of the audience for the whole week. The powerful imagery reminds us to give all our troubles to Jesus Christ.
I cried and prayed openly for about 20 minutes as I moved from place to place. As I rested near the exit - but still inside the warm, dark sanctuary - I noticed Brooke and Kallan, each at their own pace, with different groups of friends or individually, walking, kneeling, hugging, praying, crying, and smiling. Eventually the place had almost emptied, I was breathing normally and my eyes burned but the crying had stopped. I felt I could turn around and leave the gym, go outside and be with the campers as I had each of the previous nights. I was looking forward to playing, Frisbee, volleyball, double-dutch, 4-square or just talking.
I eventually crossed the lobby outside the gym and headed for the exit doors to the parking lot. Shari arrived at the same moment. The evening had turned breezy, the rain was gone and the temperature had dropped about 10 degrees. And as I breathed in that sweet, cool West Virginia mountain air I noticed her hands were cupped together. I asked what she was holding. She revealed a perfectly in-tact, deceased dragonfly. She explained that as she was watching over the lifesaver station, and picking up discarded wrappers, she noticed the dragonfly on the gym floor. It was surprising that with more than 350 people wandering around in the dark that it had not been stepped on. We both wondered how it had come to die, in that place, at that time. Regardless, she was excited because as an artist, Shari wanted to photograph the bug and use it in future paintings. She explained how images available on the internet never seemed to provide enough detail. Now she had a perfect specimen to work with.
Since her camera was in her car, I offered to hold the dragonfly while she used both hands to open the car and retrieve the camera. She walked into the parking lot. I continued up the sidewalk - past dozens of excited teen-agers, playing, laughing, and talking - toward the front entrance of the school. Our plan was to use the lobby lights to better photograph the bug. On the way there, I noticed my Kallan sitting on a bench just to the side of the front doors. She was with one of the girls I saw her comforting earlier during the program. They appeared to be relaxed, just enjoying some quiet time in each other’s company.
I figured I could lighten their spirits, and asked if they would like to see what I was now holding between my cupped palms. (Dad’s love to show bugs to little girls!) When I revealed the dragonfly, my daughter’s friend became quite emotional. “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed. “That’s so weird…. that is creepy weird!” Tears came to her eyes. This caught me off guard to say the least. And being admittedly out of touch with the current lexicon - I was uncertain if she was pleased or not until she said, “Can I take a picture?” My first thought was that photographing dragonfly’s was now very popular - but I didn’t get the memo. She produced a small digital camera and was able to capture a remarkable shot with only one try. I was mildly uncomfortable hanging around at that point, not sure what to say or do, so I made my way into the main lobby of the school where the lighting was better and waited for my friend to arrive with her camera.
We must have messed around for about fifteen minutes, using various pieces of furniture as make-shift easels & tripods. We tried different color backgrounds, turning and flipping the bug for better perspective. We searched for a Macro setting on her digital camera and played with the focus. I don’t know if any of those shots produced the quality she was hoping for. Finally, I suggested she fold the bug into a sheet of paper for protection until she returned home and could work with it more closely, under favorable conditions.
With that adventure behind us I wandered back out to the front of the school. My daughter and her new friend were still sitting on the bench just outside the door. Something inspired me to ask the girl about her reaction to the dragonfly. She looked up at me. Her eye’s welled up. My daughter reached over to put her arm around her shoulders and this is what she said:
“I came here because I have been mad at God. Ten years ago, God took my Grandma and then my dog away from me. When I was little, I would spend time with my Grandmother in the summer. I would always ask her to go with me to the creek and try to catch dragonflies. We never caught any dragonflies. I drew a picture of a dragonfly and placed it in her coffin at her funeral. I have been mad at God since then. I came to forgive God.
“When I saw that dragonfly, I knew God had forgiven me!”
We all cried some more, and I thanked her for telling me. I knew I had been touched by God. He worked through me to deliver an important message to someone who really needed it. As I left their company, I considered the powerful, little circumstances that came together that evening. I shared the story with many people that evening. I cried every time.
The next day, I met the girl again and asked her name which I had forgotten. It was Amanda. I told her what a powerful experience that was for me and shared with her, from my perspective, the events leading up to the moment she saw the dragonfly in my hands. We cried again. We promised to keep in touch. We praised God. I know we are both thankful.
Four of us, my former church member, my daughter, her friend and I are woven together forever in the fabric of God’s love. I know he works through us to perform miracles every day. I encourage you to be open to God’s grace and allow him to use you. It may make you cry - but it’s the best feeling you will ever know.
That’s how you know you are close to God!
